Born of Dust and Design
This specific blog post is geared toward anyone who believes in the importance of men and wants to understand the intent and structure for which God created them.
In today’s social climate, there’s a lot of language, opinion, and influence surrounding emotions, mental health, and men. There has been a great deal of noise, and at times, that noise can be just as loud as the silence surrounding men and their role in society.
From the individual level to their place in families, households, and even within the church community, there have been tainted narratives and distorted behaviors that have deeply affected humanity. Yet, we see in Scripture what God made man for and how, from the very beginning, He established their purpose with divine intention.
This reflection stems from observing several gentlemen whom I deeply honor and respect, men I’ve had the privilege of knowing closely in different seasons of life. Some are married, some single, some dating, some healing from what was, and others still wondering what will be, whether they realize it or not.
Yet, they’re all connected by the following: the tension between strength and silence, between being depended upon and being truly known.
When I was growing up, I rarely witnessed a man express himself emotionally. I witnessed men providing and protecting to the best of their ability. Also living lives that felt deeply personal, separate, and silent.
For many families, emotions are not a language easily spoken. Whether shaped by experience, upbringing, or unspoken expectation, the ability to express what one feels is often molded by the atmosphere of the home, by a father’s tone, a mother’s comfort, or the absence of either.
The environment in which one grows up or spends a significant amount of time, laced with the emotional rhythm established there, forms more than behavior; it shapes the very blueprint of emotional intelligence itself.
“Then the Lord God formed man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and the man became a living being [an individual complete in body and spirit].” Genesis 2:7 (AMP)
In the beginning, when God formed man from the dust of the ground and breathed into him the breath of life, the Word says that man became a living soul. From the very start, purpose, order, and presence existed, a divine intimacy between Creator and creation.
Before there was woman, there was the entrusting and ordinance of man’s purpose to lead, to tend, to protect, and to walk in communion with God. Leadership, then, was never meant to be about dominance; it was meant to be about responsibility, to cultivate, to care, and to reflect the nature of the One who gave him, man, breath.
And God blessed them [granting them certain authority] and said to them, “Be fruitful, multiply, and fill the earth, and subjugate it [put it under your power]; and rule over (dominate) the fish of the sea, the birds of the air, and every living thing that moves upon the earth.” Genesis 1:28 (AMP)
Throughout Scripture, God, in many cases, places men or allows them into positions that required not only strength but sensitivity. A kind of emotional and spiritual awareness that aligns with obedience. Nathan, for example, carried the courage to confront David about his integrity after Bathsheba, risking his life to speak truth.
Elijah, though a prophet of power, trembled in fear and hid in a cave until the Lord let him hear His voice. It was not in the fire or the wind, but in the whisper. Elisha longed for a double portion, a deeper inheritance, not of status, but of spirit.
Jeremiah lamented through rejection and despair, still faithful to preach to those who would not listen. Job wrestled with loss and questioned God openly, only to find that suffering and faith were parallel in existence.
Then there is Jesus, who wept. Who felt deeply, loved wholly, and yet remained the standard of strength, authority, and compassion. His tears did not make Him less of a man; they revealed the fullness of His humanity and the heart of His divinity.
Later, we see Saul, transformed into Paul, a man once hardened by religion, remade through encounter. The same man who once persecuted believers became the one to write of grace, love, and the renewing of the mind.
Solomon, the son of David, whose wisdom still shapes our understanding of leadership, emotion, and discernment, reminds us, that knowledge alone is not enough, that wisdom must be guided by reverence for God.
Together, their stories trace a thread through time, men called to lead, to feel, to repent, to rebuild. Each one mirrors the truth that emotion, when yielded to God, becomes strength, not weakness.
When God breathed life into man and gave him purpose, He also gave him the privilege of responsibility, to tend, to protect, and to walk in communion with Him.
“God blessed them and said to them, ‘Be fruitful, multiply, and fill the earth, and subdue it; using all its vast resources in the service of God and man; and have dominion over the fish of the sea, the birds of the air, and over every living thing that moves upon the earth.” Genesis 1:28 (AMP)
Before there was woman, there was the entrusting and ordinance of man’s purpose: to lead, not by control, but by care; to govern, not by dominance, but by devotion; to reflect the nature of the One who gave him breath. This is intentionally repetitive.
Yet when sin entered the world, there was a severance, a separation, not only between God and humanity, but between man and his own design. The fall fractured communion, and in its wake, many men still wrestle with distance: the distance between what they feel and what they show, between who they are and who they long to be.
Across generations, that fracture has echoed, shaping the ways men seek closure, walk in avoidance, or navigate the weight of unspoken emotions.
Some have held silence so long it has become their strength, when in truth, it is exhaustion.
Even after the fall, and to this day, God’s intent has never changed. He remains intentional in restoring men to the purpose He first ordained, not to rule apart from Him, but to live in reflection of Him. He is still redeeming the way men operate, think, and lead.
The restoration begins where it always has, with surrender. To lead again in spirit, a man must begin where all restoration begins, in surrender.
Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right and steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me away from Your presence and do not take Your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of Your salvation and sustain me with a willing spirit. Psalm 51:10–12 (AMP)
To every man who comes across these words, pause and consider:
How have you carried the responsibility of being a man, in your life, in your home, in your relationships, in your faith, in your mind?
What have you learned to suppress that God is now asking you to release?
Because the same God who formed you from dust still calls you by name, and He has not finished restoring what He once entrusted to you.
As the men in Scripture revealed their hearts through moments of courage, fear, honesty, and surrender, I wanted to listen to men today, to hear how those same emotions echo in our time.
I invited a few gentlemen to share what that work has looked like for them: how they have learned, struggled, and grown in expressing emotion, in faith, and in life.
Their words are not studies or statistics; they are reflections of real lives, shaped by the homes they were raised in and the beliefs they have come to know. The link to their stories is below.
With love,
- Jivean, Of Paper and Light
© 2025 Jivean Martinez. All rights reserved. Please do not copy, repost, or share without written permission.
