Worship Podcast
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.
Earlier this year I realized that personal growth doesn’t happen unless I plan for it.
Having good intentions isn’t enough. Even firsthand experience isn’t always the ticket. Those who develop are those who are intentional about learning and applying.
We all have dreams. Our problem is that years go by without us doing anything about it. We don’t take the first step.
It’s like we are hoping for God to tell us what to do, show us how to do it, inform us when to start, and then to do the work for us. Sounds ridiculous, right?
Do you want to be promoted?
Of course you do. There’s something distinctly human about being recognized, rewarded, and celebrated for our achievement.
Especially for musicians and creative types, we dream of the day when we take our rightful place on the pedestal.
I remember the first time I participated in the National Fine Arts program, performing a Dino Kartsonakis piano solo. The song was “My Tribute (To God Be the Glory)”.
Now, aside from the fact that this song really tugs at people’s heartstrings, I played it fairly well. Musicians and music teachers knew I was gifted and the non-musical thought I was a genius.
In my little world of Assemblies of God Western PA, I became somewhat of a musical celebrity. Score. Expectations in my mind rose to grand heights of dominating the mountain of musical achievement for the rest of my life.
My problem? I was an addict.