“Without you, what am I to myself but a guide to my own self-destruction?” – Augustine

Want to know about what’s happening boots on the ground? This is where you’ll find stories, reflections, and what I have been reading on.

Dear Faithful Partners in the Gospel,

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

I sit to write these words with a cough still rattling in my chest and my mind turns first to the unchanging faithfulness of our King, who sustains His frail servants not by our strength but by His sovereign grace. “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor 12:9). These past weeks that verse has moved from a familiar text to a lived anchor—one you yourselves have helped drive deep through your prayers and generosity.

For several weeks I have been wrestling a stubborn, brain-sapping illness: constant lethargy, a cough that will not quit, and a fog that makes even simple tasks feel like wading through mud. Bloodwork revealed nothing conclusive; the doctors shrug and call it “viral” or perhaps walking pneumonia. Whatever the name, it is a lingering shadow. On top of this, my little Abigail has been battling a painful UTI that has turned our home upside-down with sleepless nights and a toddler’s tears. It is tiresome for a man to be sick, and loathsome to watch his daughter suffer. Yet in the kind providence of God, the work has not stopped. My beloved Sion has carried the load with quiet courage—coordinating outreaches, answering texts at midnight, keeping the ministry’s heart beating when mine could barely manage a pulse. Brethren, pray for us. “Is anyone among you sick? Let him call for the elders… and let them pray over him” (James 5:14). Your prayers are already moving; the fog is thinning, the cough is weakening, and Abigail is on the mend.

But let us lift our eyes from the sickbed to the battlefield the Lord has set before us at Michigan Tech.

The opportunities are many and the hour is urgent:

• I have a meeting scheduled with the Provost to press for an official Bible-study course to be added to the university curriculum—an open door, if the Lord wills it.
• We have dramatically expanded our winter Hot Cocoa outreach: next semester we will add hot food for the statue-building contests and broom-ball tournaments so that conversations stretch longer and more Bibles go into cold hands.
• And most strategically, we have set our hearts on a house at 315 Reservation Street in Hancock—directly across the canal from campus, in the very path of thousands of students walking to classes and events.

This house is not a real-estate venture; it is a bulwark for the gospel, a garrison against the roaring lion who prowls this campus with terrifyingly unchecked. We once sheltered a young woman who came to Christ but lived in a dorm openly hostile to the faith; we found a Christian family willing to house her rent-free for the rest of the year. That is the kind of shepherding this house will make possible week in and week out.

You know the darkness that stalks this generation. Pornography—that vile serpent coiled in every pocket and screen—has sunk its fangs deeper here than almost any campus I have seen. Add to that the crushing isolationism of an engineering culture that whispers, “Your value is your GPA; speak of Christ and you are intolerant.” The result is shattered consciences, secret chains, and young men and women who arrive as lambs only to be devoured. They need a place set apart from the world’s mocking gaze—rooms where men can confess lust without shame and be armed for war; circles where women can weep and be rebuilt in the image of Christ; quiet corners for prayer that storms the gates of hell. Without such a refuge, how shall they “flee youthful lusts and pursue righteousness, faith, love, and peace” (2 Tim 2:22)?

And now, comes the news that has strengthened and encouraged me: we have, against every obstacle, struck a deal for 315 Reservation Street! The seller, bless his bewildered heart, does not yet understand the strange creature called a “non-profit ministry” and seemed convinced we keep treasure chests in the garage. Yet the Lord overruled every objection, every raised eyebrow, every “Where’s your cash?” and the path now lies open before us.

This is no human work; it is the direct fruit of your obedience. One family—moved in the night by the Spirit—has already laid down ten thousand dollars as a firstfruits offering. Others have sent gifts accompanied by notes that say, “The Lord woke us and said, ‘Send it now.’” Your sacrifice shames my illness and steels my soul for the fight ahead. As Paul wrote from a dungeon, “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me”—and, I add, through your hope you give me, His strengthened people (Phil 4:13).

We are not yet across the finish line. Closing costs, minor renovations, and ongoing expenses still loom. But the God who stirred that first $10,000 will not abandon the work He has begun. If He lays it on your heart to help—whether with a one-time gift toward the down payment, a monthly pledge, or simply sharing this letter with your church, your small group, your social media—know that every dollar is a spear cast at the kingdom of darkness and every prayer a battering ram against the gates of hell.

Brethren, the time for timid half-measures is past. The students of Michigan Tech are perishing for lack of a shepherd and a shield. By God’s grace, 315 Reservation Street will become both.

Stand with us. Pray for healing in the Charbonneau home. Pray for favor with the university. Pray that souls would flood through these doors hungry for the Bread of Life. And give as the Lord enables, for the night is far spent and the day is at hand.

May the King who stooped to serve us while we were yet enemies now multiply your reward a hundredfold.

Until He comes or calls.

In His unyielding service,
Brandon Charbonneau
Founder & Director
Serve The King Ministries