A Normal Kind of Failure

If engaging in God’s mission leaves you feeling drained, isolated, or quietly battling imposter syndrome, you aren't failing. You’re normal.

We’ve been conditioned to believe that ministry suffering equals personal failure. But 2 Corinthians offers a radically different paradigm: weakness isn't a glitch in kingdom work—it’s the exact "clay jar" reality God uses to display His power.

Cruciform labor knows no boundaries. Whether you’re a cross-cultural worker, a lay leader, or a creative finding your footing, carrying heavy loads in hard soil is exhausting work. I have walked through false starts, shifting roles, and complex seasons that made me question my place in the mission.

Fatigue isn't proof that God is done with you. It’s an invitation to anchor your confidence in resurrection life rather than your own strength.

Oral Irony

Recently, I was at a local library for a book sale. 

One book caught my attention: A book about musical harmony. 

Reading about singing will never make you an expert on the matter.

On Decapitating the Imagination

One of my lowest moments as an artist was when I led a worship team years ago.

I told one of the other worship leader not to do a certain song because it contained a metaphor in it. And that metaphor itself was not in the bible.

I reasoned that not everyone would understand the metaphor (which is ridiculous now that I remember).

This was my lowest art moment because it is the fruit of decapitating the imagination.

Paul uses roughly 30 metaphors just in his 3-chapter letter to Titus. Think about that: a letter explicitly written to bring order to a chaotic church relied heavily on poetry, mental imagery, and the arts to get its point across.

When I killed that song, I thought I was protecting the integrity of God’s word. Little did I know I was policing the very vehicle God designed to make doctrine stick.

Do Not Love The World…

But love the people.

Love the community and culture you reside.

They are not the same as loving the world.

Permission to Scream

“The pain I feel now is the happiness I had before. That’s the deal.”

— C.S. Lewis

With the news of Glen Hansard’s death this week, I found myself revisiting some of his live performances.

I remember first seeing Once and getting chills when I heard him sing Say It To My Now.

I wasn’t alone.

Glen’s authenticity trickled through his fans ever since. I love seeing these live clips of his unplugged versions of this song.

Glen had a depth of wisdom about songwriting, performing, and community.

It’s actually been many years since I’ve listened to Glen’s music. Life goes by I guess. But deaths come with reminders. This is why Lewis’ quote rings with me, “The pain I feel now is the happiness I had before. That’s the deal.”

Thanks Glen for being part of my creative DNA.

Always Losing Heart (and Never Praying)

In Luke 18:1-8, Jesus tells his followers a parable so they’d always pray and not lose heart.

It is quite easy to reverse these: always be weary and never turn to prayer.

Sometimes, customizing a story as a response to a precise angst is the most Christlike thing you can for someone.

Don’t Charge Joy Tax

[Some language]

I recently heard Derek Sivers talk about the starving artist,

The starving artist pours his heart into a project that’s incredibly valuable to him, but not (yet) valuable to others. That’s why no money comes.

While one goal of making art is for one’s own joy and pleasure (see the worship wheel), there remains is a social aspect as well.

Art's social purpose is to create value for others, while recognizing it won't reach everyone.

Ross mistook everyone’s delight as true and genuine interest in his craft. But Phoebe actually enjoyed it. Ross thought it was for everyone. But only one was a true believer.

Artists experience true freedom comes when we don’t expect others pay the cost of genuine delight in your craft.

Sermons: Oral Art Hierarchy

An exposition of a modern Sunday morning church service would indicate that the preacher is the central artist and their sermons are the oral art of choice: 

• The sermon takes up the most time of a service.

• The preacher has had years of training for this craft.

• Entire institutions exist to help sharpen this craft (it’s just another kind of art school).

• Many Christians “church shop” depending on their critique of the preacher’s “performance.”

• The space of the room is designed with the pulpit as the center or main focal point. 

• Most churches reflect the age, ethnicity, and culture of their primary preacher.

• The central artifact of value (scriptures) are embedded within this context of oral arts.

It is not wrong to think this way. In fact, once we do accept sermons as oral art forms, we’ll honor the realm of beauty allocated to our gatherings in a new way.