The Drift
- Jon Hodgin
- Jun 22
- 3 min read
BY JON HODGIN | JUNE 22, 2026
I’ve spent a lot of time on rivers over the years. Whether navigating the intense whitewater in Colorado or taking an epic, freezing-cold trek down the Buffalo River here in Arkansas, I’ve learned a universal truth about moving water: The moment you stop paddling, you lose control.
On a river, there is no such thing as holding your ground. If you pull your paddle out of the water to just float and relax, the current takes over. At best, it allows you to slowly drift. At worst, it sweeps you right into a strainer, a boulder, or a rapid you aren't prepared to face. Our life with Christ is an upstream float. If you stop paddling when going upstream you are moving backwards. You will be losing ground.
The exact same thing happens in the spiritual lives of men, especially during the summer.

The Seasonal Retreat
Right now, we are in the middle of summer. Schedules get chaotic. Vacations are planned, routines are broken, and the natural rhythm of our weekly huddles starts to fracture. It is incredibly easy to look at this season as a time to mentally "check out" and head to the barracks for an extended rest.
We tell ourselves a lie: "I’m just taking a quick break. I’ll engage back with my brothers and get intentional again in the fall."
But isolation doesn't wait for the seasons to change. The spiritual battlefield doesn't take a summer vacation. When we step away from consistent, intentional brotherhood, we don't just stand still. We begin to drift.
What Does the Drift Look Like?
The drift is rarely a massive, sudden plunge into catastrophic sin. It’s quiet. It’s subtle.
The Drift of Numbness: We slowly replace deep, vulnerable conversations with the "illusion of safety" found in our screens, video games, or streaming platforms.
The Drift of the Facade: We stop talking about the heavy weights we are carrying and default back to the easy, surface-level "everything is good with me" nice-guy persona.
The Drift of Autopilot: We stop actively protecting our families spiritually and acting like deployed warriors, choosing instead to just cruise through the days as comfortable civilians.
Before you know it, you wake up and realize you are spiritually atrophied, completely isolated, and miles away from the path your Commander called you to walk.
The Briefing: You cannot fight a real enemy with a seasonal commitment. A Band of Brothers isn't a social club that pauses when the weather gets warm; it’s a tactical unit that stays locked in.
Put Your Paddle Back in the Water
If you look at your life today, on this 22nd of June, and realize you’ve been drifting for the last few weeks, today is the day to make a course correction. You don't need a massive 20-year master plan; you just need to take the next lit step in front of you.
Here is your deployment order for the next 24 hours to kill the drift:
Drop the Text, Make the Call: Call your Battle Buddy or a brother from your group. Don't talk about sports, the weather, or your summer travel plans. Ask him directly: "What’s the heaviest weight you're holding right now, and how can I help hold the shield?"
Audit Your Escapes: Identify the one comfort-zone escape you've been using to sedate yourself lately and intentionally turn it off tonight.
Stand in a Gap: Find one practical, concrete way to serve your wife, your kids, or a neighbor this week. Don't just intend to do it—put it on your calendar.
The current of this world is strong, and it is pulling hard toward passivity and isolation. Grab your paddle. Lock eyes with the man next to you. And let's get back to the mission.
Don't fight alone.




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