Building Walls Against the Flood: Luke’s Story

I was thirteen the first time I saw pornography. It happened behind the snack bar at our neighborhood pool, where I worked my first summer job. A few older guy–friends I looked up to were hanging around after hours. One of them asked casually if I’d ever watched porn. I said no, that it was wrong. He shrugged, pulled out his phone, and passed it around.
They laughed like it was nothing. But I remember being frozen, ashamed, confused, and too embarrassed to leave. I didn’t want to be the weird kid who made it awkward.

So I said nothing.

Living a Double Life

Later that night, alone at home, curiosity got the better of me. That was the beginning. Curiosity crept in, and within months I was descending into a dark spiral alone in my room, searching for more: more depraved, more hidden, more addictive.

It split me in two.

Outwardly, I was the charismatic son, the accomplished A-student everybody liked. But inwardly, I became compulsive, deceptive, and increasingly isolated. I lied to my parents, my brothers, my friends, even myself. Pornography warped my imagination and hollowed out my sense of worth. The worst part wasn’t even the guilt—it was the double life. I didn’t know who I was anymore.

My family eventually installed Covenant Eyes, but at the time, I found ways around it, using different browsers, exploiting loopholes, and generally staying one step ahead. I became a master of the cover-up. But it couldn’t last forever. One night, at a breaking point, I found myself in my room, completely unraveled, depressed, and numb. I opened my journal and drew what I can only describe as a ghost, an empty version of myself standing just behind the physical one. In the sketch, crowds were cheering the confident, put-together version of me, while the ghost stood behind, haunted by the truth: I was still trapped.

Finding Freedom

That night, the Lord broke through. No lightning bolt, just a quiet collapse of my resistance. That was the night the war began to end. Soon after, Covenant Eyes added Screen Accountability (screenshots, not just filters) and suddenly my hiding places vanished. My parents saw everything. I finally confessed. And for the first time in years, I stopped performing. I was known and still loved. That grace marked the beginning of freedom.

Covenant Eyes not only exposed my sin, but it also empowered me to fight it. It stripped away my excuses, ended my isolation, and gave me a chance to rebuild my life. As I began walking in integrity, I noticed something I hadn’t seen before: I wasn’t the only one fighting.

Other young men around me were flailing too, desperate, ashamed, silent. I saw the same haunted eyes I once met in my own mirror. They weren’t weak. They were starving. That realization changed me. Suddenly, my own healing wasn’t enough. The need was too great to ignore. My generation is being devoured by pornography, by pop culture, by dopamine loops that reward passivity and punish virtue. We are watching the collapse of fatherhood and the slow erosion of manhood itself. And into that vacuum, the porn industry has rushed, offering violent fantasy and counterfeit intimacy in place of purpose and real love.

What these young men need isn’t escape. It’s Christ.

And I couldn’t shake the thought: What if one day my son looks me in the eye and asks, “Why did you do nothing?” That question still sits heavy on my chest. And so I build.

I began with Agora, a group for younger men in my hometown, named after the Greek word meaning “gather together.” Every Tuesday night, my family’s garage became a sanctuary of transformation. We opened Scripture together, confessed sin, and held each other to the standards we claimed to live by. If someone admitted to a slip or identified a gateway we acted immediately. We would take the phone, lock down the access point, and pray over the man.

Witnessing Miracles

Over time, months turned into years. I witnessed miracles.

• Carter, once paralyzed by insecurity and trapped in a compulsive addiction to pornography, joined the wrestling team, began leading a devotional group, and now stands as a leader among his peers in the fight for purity.
• Brent, who struggled with secret online habits, deleted all social media and was accepted into the U.S. Air Force Academy.
• Jackson, once obsessed with digital validation, took down his shirtless Instagram account, stepped away from hookup culture, began dating a godly woman—and within a year, married her.

These victories mattered.

Leading a Movement

In January 2024, I formally launched a Christian men’s formation brotherhood at Hillsdale College, built on the prototype I began in high school, Agora. What started in my garage has grown into a nonprofit organization with a national vision.

We believe pornography deforms the soul. It numbs holy desire, hollows out ambition, and divorces strength from virtue. Acting on that conviction, we partnered with the college health services to help fund Covenant Eyes for every man in LXF. Each member received an account and was paired with an accountability partner. We chose to make purity and transparency standard, not exceptional.

Members are held to high standards: journaling through Scripture, memorizing creeds and poetry, and cultivating disciplined lives. Our motto is Timete Deum Solum, “Fear God Alone.”

The movement is growing and men are changing. But through all of it, every Tuesday night gathering, every Crucible, every accountability check-in, what surprised me most wasn’t what changed around me. It was what God changed in me. I went from secretly bingeing pornography in my room and bowing my head in shame during church worship, to confessing sin openly, leading my brothers in devotionals, and standing without fear in the presence of God.

The desperation that once suffocated me became the fuel that drives me.

Reclaiming Strength

I’ve seen what pornography does to men. It rewires their affections, erodes their courage, and convinces them that freedom is impossible. But I’ve also seen what Jesus does to men. I’ve seen what pornography does to men. And I’ve seen what Jesus does to them. He reclaims their strength. He restores what sin tried to destroy. He makes them whole. When Christ brings a man out of darkness, there is no going back.

Covenant Eyes was crucial, not just in liberating me, but in equipping me to help liberate others. And by God’s grace, I will spend my life building walls against the flood—and building men who will not drown in it.