Can I tell you a secret?
You have to make sure you don’t tell this to anyone, because if this spreads, we just might see a revolution in local church worship leaders around the world.
And who would want that to happen? Shhhhh!
Worship Podcast & Blog
Can I tell you a secret?
You have to make sure you don’t tell this to anyone, because if this spreads, we just might see a revolution in local church worship leaders around the world.
And who would want that to happen? Shhhhh!
I’m ashamed to say it, but I don’t enjoy music as much as I used to.
I used to get lost on my piano for hours, zoning out in my creativity. I used to hang out with my guitar and experiment with new sounds. It was a language I once spoke and I’ve forgotten how to communicate.
I know that sounds bleak, but I’m commited to recapturing the joy of music.
If you’re a worship leader, you know what I’m talking about. Music has become business. As long as we can pull Sunday off and lead worship with music, that’s all the time we have to invest in it.
We use music as a means to an end, rather than a joy in itself.
But that makes sense, right? We’ve been conditioned that “worship isn’t about music”. We’re become so afraid of music becoming our idol that we nearly neglect it.
But guess what? That’s a bad idea. The more you can get lost in music, love it, recapture creative time, the stronger your ministry will be.
There’s a lot of factors that make a great worship song – melody, theme, structure, accessibility. But there’s an aspect to writing that we often overlook.
It’s your story.
The best worship song is the song you can sing from your gut – the lyrics that bleed from your heart – the melody that arises from your personal life experience.
I have a scenario for you. What happens when you gather a bunch of musicians in a room?
I like to call it an insecurity-fest.
We take our music very personally. Criticism can kill us. Our hearts sink to the floor when we see someone who’s better than us.
We like to take every chance we can get to impress someone…(in humility, of course).
It’s seems hilarious to write, but it’s so true: our art and our worth are inextricably linked.
But I’m about to drop a bomb on you.
You can turn back from this blog post now, if you’d like. I won’t be offended (actually, yes I will. I take this blogging thing very personally and if you don’t read it, I kick and scream and cry like a baby).
But here’s the truth: you’re not the best.
There’s an interesting paradox to ministry and leadership.
In order to lead, you must know where you’re going, have something to say, and stay focused for the long haul.
Yet the more you lead, the more you’re emptied. The leadership train doesn’t slow down.
It can be exhausting.
How does one stay refreshed, focused, and in a prime state to lead? You must close the door.
Consider this:
You can’t lead worship if you don’t catch a vision of God behind closed doors.
You can’t lead a team if you don’t hear from God behind closed doors.
You won’t have a God-honoring public ministry without thriving, private devotion.
Your leadership will rise and fall on your dedication to closing the door.