I’ve been in a season of silence from God for more years than I can count. At first, I assumed He had stopped speaking. But over time, I’ve started to wonder—maybe it wasn’t that He went quiet. Maybe I just stopped listening. Maybe I never really knew how to recognize His voice in the first place.

This isn’t a teaching post. It’s not filled with clever turns of phrase or bullet-point answers. It’s a question. And not a light one.

I was thumbing through an old notebook the other day—the kind filled with sermon notes that rarely get revisited. You know the type. Like a blurry fireworks video from the Fourth of July or a photo of the neighborhood’s Christmas lights. Captured in the moment, but rarely replayed. This particular notebook was from 2019, and I had taken it with me to The Gospel Coalition Conference that year.

In America today, many of us are quick to form strong opinions—about everything. And worse, we’re quick to form strong opinions about each other. Politics have become so polarizing that friendships, families, and entire communities are being torn apart over issues that often have very little effect on our actual day-to-day lives.

Warning: This is an extremely honest post.

I love my country. I love the celebration. The fireworks, the barbecues, the flags, the music—there’s something beautiful about a people coming together to honor the idea of freedom. But beneath the surface, there’s also something else I carry on days like this: a deep, quiet ache that most people never see.

At the heart of the Protestant Reformation was a bold claim: every believer, guided by the Holy Spirit, has the right and responsibility to interpret Scripture. The Reformers didn’t trust Rome to preserve sound doctrine. They believed the Magisterium had become corrupt, adding to Scripture and distorting the gospel. Their solution was to return to Scripture itself—sola scriptura.

How should Christians respond to Pride Month?

Maybe not with a fight. Maybe not with a post.

What if the most unexpected response… is compassion?

This post is an excerpt from Chapter 1 of my book, Common Protestant Objections to Catholic Doctrine. In this chapter, I begin to explore the foundational differences between Protestant and Catholic views of authority, tradition, and the Church. Drawing from my years as a Protestant pastor and my journey into the Catholic faith, I walk through some of the most common objections I once held myself—and how I came to see them differently.

📘 If you’d like to read the full book, it’s available now on Amazon:

👉 https://a.co/d/6uTmh1B

In a time when deconstruction has become a common response to church hurt, disillusionment, and doctrinal confusion, many are walking away from the faith traditions they once trusted. But what if the roots of this movement go deeper than we think?

In this blog, Kevin Mays explores the surprising irony that Protestantism itself is built on deconstruction—tracing its history of splintering and reinvention across thousands of denominations. With honesty and insight, he shares how his own journey through doubt and questioning didn’t lead him away from Christianity but deeper into its historical roots—eventually into the Catholic Church.

Read now and reflect on whether the Church Jesus founded is meant to be endlessly reinvented—or faithfully preserved.