We’ve all been there. The service ends, and you've poured your heart out, giving everything you had. Then, someone says: “Too loud today.” “Not enough hymns.” “You seemed off.” “Why do we always do that song?” It’s painful to give your all, only to have it picked apart. Even when we tell ourselves we’re fine, the sting lingers. We’re human. We care. And sometimes, that’s the hardest part. Psalm 118:6 says, “The Lord is with me; I will not be afraid. What can mere mortals do to me?” What Matters Most? David understood something we often forget: while people may have their opinions, God stands with us. Opinions will always exist. They come with the territory of leadership. The bigger truth? These opinions are not obstacles; they are not gates that can halt the work God is doing. They are simply noise—echoes of insecurity, unmet expectations, or a desire to feel in control. This doesn’t mean we stop listening altogether. However, it does mean we get to choose whom we listen to. There’s a difference between helpful feedback and shame disguised as criticism. For example, “I missed that old song” is a connection, while “You’re ruining worship” reflects a desire for control. As worship leaders, we’re not here to please people—we’re here to serve God and shepherd hearts. Sometimes, that will mean disappointing people with grace. Let’s be honest: we’ve all tried to mold ourselves into something others want us to be. We’ve attempted to be less expressive or more traditional, less spontaneous or more polished. It’s exhausting. You weren’t called to be everyone’s favorite; you were called to be faithful. - Not every opinion deserves your energy. - You are called to please God. - People’s preferences are not your purpose. Practical Steps: - Curate your inner circle. Surround yourself with trusted voices who know you and can speak truth into your life with honesty and love. Not every comment deserves a place at your table. - Lead from your identity, not from insecurity. Spend time in prayer before each rehearsal and service to ground yourself in who you are in Christ—not who others want you to be. - Debrief intentionally. After each service, reflect on what happened. Ask yourself what felt good and what needs to grow, not from a place of fear, but from a desire to grow in God. - Start each day this week with Psalm 118. Speak it aloud and remind yourself that you are not alone. - Fast from people-pleasing for 7 days. When the urge to over-explain or over-apologize arises, take a breath and let it go. - Journal daily about what God says about you, not what others say. Write it until you truly believe it. Here’s the hard truth: you can either lead with your eyes on God or with your eyes on the crowd. You can’t do both. This week, make a choice. Let every song, every setlist, and every imperfect moment be an offering—not a performance. Stand firm in who God made you to be, and trust that it’s enough.

One Thing It can change everything about the way you lead worship—and no, it’s not a better arrangement, smoother transitions, or even a team that shows up on time. It’s an undivided heart. The kind of heart that doesn’t flinch at uncertainty. That isn’t obsessed with performance. The question doesn’t drive that, “Did it go well?” but instead lives and leads from the deeper question: “Was I faithful?” Psalm 86:11 says, “Teach me your way, Lord, that I may rely on your faithfulness; give me an undivided heart, that I may fear your name.” Let’s be honest. So many of us have learned to rely on outcomes—how the service flowed, if the vocals were tight, if the tech worked without glitches. These things matter. But they are not most important. We live in a culture—even within the Church—that celebrates the external win over the internal formation. Here’s what no one tells you: You can lead a flawless service and still leave the stage completely disconnected from the God you just sang about. That disconnect is where burnout lives. It’s where resentment festers. It’s where comparison takes root. But what if you stopped measuring your success by applause, by perfection, by how many people were “moved,” or especially by your own standards? Is There a Scoreboard? Do you get points on the following: Did I show up with a whole heart today? Did I stay present with God? Did I not sweat when things went wrong? This is what an undivided heart does. It doesn’t compartmentalize. It doesn’t perform faith while ignoring doubt. It brings the whole, messy, honest self to God. And then to the team. And then to the congregation. It’s vulnerable. It’s unpolished. It’s real worship. Jesus wants your whole heart Let’s Get Practical: 1. Prioritize time alone with God over planning. Planning is sacred—but not more sacred than presence. Get quiet with God before you get strategic with your team. 2. Redefine a “win.” At the end of every service, ask: Did we honor God’s presence? Were we connected as a team? Did I worship, or just lead? 3. Speak from your scars, not your script. People don’t need a perfect leader. They need a present one. Let your story and your struggle point to God’s faithfulness. 4. Build team culture around formation, not function. Yes, rehearse. Yes, train. But also, check in with hearts. Pray together. Debrief emotionally—not just musically. For Spiritual Growth • Practice silence weekly. Let go of the need to produce and simply listen. • Journal your leadership struggles. Notice where you’re performing instead of being. • Ask for accountability. Have one person who asks, “How’s your heart, not just your setlist?” • Sabbath. No shortcuts here. If you’re leading from an empty soul, you’re not leading at all. Stop measuring your ministry by the highs and lows of each Sunday Go All In Stop auditioning for God’s approval. You already have it. Stop trying to impress your church. They need your presence, not polished perfection. Go all in. Bring your fear. Bring your fatigue. Bring your doubt, your joy, your hunger, your tired hands, and your weary heart. God doesn’t need your perfect performance. Leading worship is not about how well you execute the plan. It’s about how well you stay rooted when the plan succeeds or fails. Yesterday’s service was either a powerful source of encouragement or a challenge that left you feeling a bit drained. It might have been both. Regardless of how smoothly you navigated transitions or the unexpected hurdles you faced, today marks the beginning of the real work. Monday matters because it sets the direction and vision for where you want to be by the upcoming Sunday. This is your moment to reset. Remember, your strength comes not from yesterday’s outcomes, but from being firmly rooted in God’s Word today. “Teach me your way, Lord… give me an undivided heart.” — Psalm 86:11 Stay grounded. Grow steady. - Branon Dempsey

Worship Is Humility on Its Knees What we do onstage only matters if try to live life surrendered offstage. Here’s what most won’t tell you: Worship isn’t about how high you can sing or how tight your transitions are. It’s not about vibes or viral moments. “May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer.” – Psalm 19:14 Worship is about posture—your heart on its knees before the King. We’ve built stages that look amazing. We’ve polished our teams. We’ve scheduled services down to the second. But what if the one thing we’re missing is the one thing God wants most? Humility. Not the false kind that shrinks back. But the holy kind that falls forward. The Weight of Worship Is Too Heavy for Ego You can’t carry pride into the presence of God. It cracks under the weight of glory. And here’s where it gets raw: We don’t always know we’re carrying it. We start out leading worship to serve. Then somewhere along the way, we start needing the affirmation. We start chasing the moment instead of the One who makes the moment matter. But real worship doesn’t need a spotlight. It needs surrender. It begins with “Search me, God.” It ends with “Not to us, but to Your name.” Psalm 19:14 doesn’t say “may the crowd love the set.” It says: “May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight.” This is personal. This is sacred. And this is why humility isn’t optional—it’s the only way in. Worship Isn’t a Role. It’s a Response. You don’t lead worship because you’re gifted. You lead because you’ve been gripped by the gospel. Your songs are shaped by your secret place. Your leadership flows from your repentance. You can’t take people where you haven’t gone. When was the last time you knelt—really knelt—without a mic, without a team, without a plan? Not because it looked good, but because you felt small in the best way. That’s worship. That’s where power is born. Real Worship Is Loud in the Quiet We think power shows up in volume. But often, the most powerful worship sounds like silence. The kind that says, “God, I have no words. Just take everything.” That’s the moment your pride dies—and your ministry comes alive. When worship leaders lead from a place of humility, the room changes. It’s no longer about performance. It becomes presence. And presence can’t be manufactured. It comes when God recognizes Himself in your posture. Practical Ways to Lead from Humility Let’s ground this. Here’s how to stay on your knees—even when you’re holding a mic: 1. Confess Before You Rehearse. Open your team meetings with real heart-checks. Not “how’s your week?” but “where’s your heart?” Start with repentance. 2. Take the Lowest Seat. Choose the back of the room. Carry cables. Show up early. Not because you’re less—but because Jesus washed feet, and so can you. 3. Break the Platform Mentality. Remind your team often: we don’t perform—we participate. We don’t build a set—we build an altar. 4. Live Offstage Like It Matters More. Because it does. Integrity fuels authority. Private surrender fuels public leadership. A Challenge for You This week, don’t focus on sounding better. Focus on bowing lower. What we do onstage only matters if try to live life surrendered offstage. Take 15 minutes before your next service. Go find a quiet room. No phone. No guitar. No production checklist. Just you and the Lord. Pray: “God, reduce me. Replace anything in me that craves credit with a heart that longs for communion.” Let your next set be shaped by that kind of worship. The kind that trembles. The kind that’s costly. The kind that looks like Jesus. Final Words Worship that’s driven by pride will burn you out. But worship led from humility will set you free. Don’t settle for polished. Go for presence. Don’t aim for excellence without awe. Let your heart break open on your knees—because that’s where worship begins. You’re not leading people to music. You’re leading them to surrender. So start with your own.

I understand the struggle of showing up to worship when life feels heavy. There are days when I don’t have the energy to lead with passion, not because I don’t love God, but because my spirit feels parched. However, here’s the profound truth: God meets you where you are, even in those moments of weariness, and especially then. What If You Showed Up Anyway? Let’s face it: many of us have dragged ourselves to lead worship on days when our souls are starving. You’ve prayed with weary lips, smiled while feeling hollow, and opened services quietly asking, “Where are You, God?” And yet… You still showed up. That matters more than you can imagine. Faith isn’t always fiery; it often looks like perseverance in the face of fatigue. “As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God?” — Psalm 42:1–2 Worship doesn’t always manifest as a shout. Sometimes, it’s a deep sigh. And God hears both. Worship Isn’t the Reward—It’s the Response Psalm 42 doesn’t declare, “My soul dances for God.” It proclaims: “My soul pants for You.” No pretenses, no polished performance. Just raw, breathless longing. That’s the essence of real worship in the wilderness. You come empty, you show up exhausted—and God meets you there. Not because you’ve performed perfectly, but because He loves you enough to satisfy your thirst. When you stop striving to “feel spiritual” and embrace your truth, the Holy Spirit begins to do what only He can: Refresh, refill, and restore. More Than A Feeling—It’s a Promise We've mistaken presence for emotional experience. The Holy Spirit doesn’t come and go based on how “into it” we feel. He isn’t defined by goosebumps or chills during a chorus. He is the Living Water that flows unceasingly. Sometimes, when you’re worn down and barely hanging on, He finds you first. You thought you were seeking Him, but in reality, He was already pursuing you. Real Worship Leaders Lead From Real Places You're not just leading songs; you’re modeling surrender. So, if all you have this week is a quiet whisper of, “God, help,” lead from there. If all you can offer is a heart that showed up despite feeling nothing, lead from that place. Don’t try to perform healing you haven’t received. Lead with honesty. Lead from your place of need. God often accomplishes more through your vulnerability than through your most polished rehearsals. Those you lead don’t need a perfect worship leader; they need someone present, someone who understands what it’s like to thirst for God and still choose to sing. Pathways to Lead Worship leaders, here’s how to infuse this truth into your ministry and your soul: 1. Start Your Rehearsal With Silence Allow the first minutes to be still. Don’t rush into warmups. Sit with God, open your hands, and let your team breathe. Invite the Spirit to guide you before the setlist. 2. Share Honestly With Your Team Model vulnerability. If you’re tired, say it. If you’re struggling, name it. Give permission for your team to show up as they are. That’s when worship becomes sacred, not staged. 3. Create a “No Mic” Time Weekly Just you and Jesus—no rehearsing, no planning. Show up with your soul and let it be enough. 4. Pray Psalm 42 Out Loud Speak it slowly and meditate on it. Let it guide not just your worship theology but also your heart posture. Steps for Spiritual Growth: Show up before God, even when you feel empty. Turn off the lights. No music, no preparation. Just sit on the floor and share what’s dry, what aches, and everything that feels heavy. Don’t fake a fire. Offer Him your thirst. Then let God find you. Let Him refill what life has drained away. Allow the Holy Spirit to rejuvenate what you felt was lost. Then respond. Worship—not because you feel like it, but because He is always worthy. Final Thought: You are not less spiritual because you feel empty; you are human. You are not disqualified from leading because you’re weary; you are real. And real worship flows from real need. So come thirsty. Come worn. Come genuinely. Let Him handle the rest because He always will. You’re not chasing after God. He’s already running toward you.

Let’s be honest: leading worship is not for the faint of heart. Neither is ministry alone. You are God’s modern-day Levite. You show up with vulnerability. You show up balancing the tension between Spirit and structure. You give the best of yourself each week and fight battles to serve God in worship. The struggle is real. Sometimes, you’re the first to arrive and the last to leave, feeling physically exhausted and spiritually spent. You keep the team together, take criticism, smile through your own heartbreak, and then do it all again the following week. Some Sundays feel like revival, while others feel like survival. I want to talk about those survival Sundays—the ones where a storm rages quietly inside you. On those days, you walk onto the platform, carrying a storm in your soul, and still say, “Let’s worship.” "Here’s a truth that remains unchanged, regardless of the weather: He is your shelter." The Weight You Carry There’s a unique loneliness in leadership, especially in worship ministry. You’re seen but not always known; you’re heard but not always understood. The songs you lead stir up healing for others while you silently grieve your own losses. You carry pain that doesn’t fit into lyrics or flowcharts and wonder if anyone notices that you’re hurting too. But God does. Isaiah 4:5–6 says: “Then the Lord will create over all of Mount Zion and over those who assemble there a cloud of smoke by day and a glow of flaming fire by night; over everything, the glory will be a canopy. It will be a shelter and shade from the heat of the day and a refuge and hiding place from the storm and rain.” Let’s unpack this passage. It paints a picture of God’s active presence—visibly covering His people, surrounding them with a canopy of glory. A shelter. A shade. A refuge. A hiding place. You might not always feel covered, but you are. You’re Not Weak As worship leaders, we often believe we have to be the strong ones. We lead people to God, so we should be okay, right? But Scripture never asks you to be unshakable; it asks you to abide. There’s a huge difference between holding it all together and hiding under His covering. When the heat of pressure bears down—whether it’s due to expectations, comparisons, or unspoken criticism—God offers you shade. Not a place to fake it, but a place to rest. When the storm hits—whether due to conflict in the team, a hard season at home, or that anonymous email that stole your sleep—God offers you a hiding place. Not to run away, but to recover. "You don’t have to tough it out. You’re allowed to be human. You’re allowed to need God’s shelter. That does not make you a weaker leader; it makes you a more honest one." The Canopy of Glory I love the word “canopy” in this verse. In Hebrew, it’s “chuppah,“ referring to a bridal covering—a symbolic tent where a covenant is made. In other words, God’s covering is personal, relational, and intimate. It’s not a cold, indifferent umbrella. It’s a place where God says, “I choose you. I will not leave you exposed. I will not let you do this alone.” The glory of God isn’t reserved for the big worship moments when everything clicks. His glory shows up as covering—in the quiet, in the confusion, and in the moments where you’re running on empty but still choosing to show up. God’s glory covers you, even when the setlist goes off the rails, even when the tech fails, even when the feedback stings, and even when your hands are lifted, but your heart is breaking. His glory still rests on you. Storms Don’t Disqualify You They strengthen you. If no one has told you this lately, you can be in a storm and still be in the will of God. Think about Noah, Jonah, and the Apostle Paul. Just because they were in the tempest and the flood, didn't mean they were without God’s shelter. Jesus was right there with them. Too many worship leaders think they’ve failed when life gets hard, as if they did something wrong or are no longer worthy to lead. That’s shame talking—not Jesus. Jesus never said storms wouldn’t come; He said we’d have a shelter when they do. If the disciples got caught in storms while walking with Jesus, you’re in good company. The presence of the storm doesn’t mean the absence of God. In fact, it’s often the very place He reveals Himself most clearly. If you’re weathering a storm right now—internally, relationally, or spiritually—don’t give up. Don’t isolate, and please don’t let shame keep you from shelter. The Invitation: Come In From the Rain So let me ask you, leader to leader: - Where do you go when the pressure gets heavy? - Do you allow yourself to rest in His shelter, or do you keep performing? - Are you leading from overflow, or just surviving on fumes? God is not asking you to grind through this season alone. He’s saying: come in from the rain. Let Him cover you. Let Him be your hiding place. Let Him remind you that you’re not defined by your last set or your loudest critic. You are seen. You are safe. You are sheltered. Pray with Me: “God, be my shade when the heat of leadership wears me down. Be my shelter when the storms of life feel too much. Cover me with your glory—not because I earned it, but because I belong to You. Thank You for being my shelter.” Final Thought: Leadership is hard. Worship ministry is sacred ground, but also gritty ground. There will be seasons of fire and seasons of rain. But whatever the forecast looks like, remember: He is your shelter. Branon Dempsey

Some mornings, showing up can feel like a challenge. The setlist might seem uninspired. The team might be distracted. In those moments, it’s natural to question the impact of what you’re doing. You rehearse those songs. You lead with a smile. But deep down, you might feel drained or even wonder, “Is this enough?” You’ve reached your limits. You’ve poured out everything you have, yet it can still feel like something's missing. “To all perfection, I see a limit, but your commands are boundless.” - Psalm 119:96 Here’s the reality: perfection has its boundaries, and so do you. This isn’t a sign of failure. It’s simply being human. Consider this wisdom from Scripture: “Do not wear yourself out to get rich; do not trust your own cleverness.” - Proverbs 23:4 Though we’re not talking about financial wealth, we can draw a parallel to our pursuit of perfection. Don’t exhaust yourself trying to be flawless or pushing beyond your limits to deliver a perfect worship service. This passage encourages us to embrace God’s wisdom and recognize the importance of restraint. Remember this: You are not meant to shoulder everything. You’re not expected to be perfect. God’s capacity knows no bounds, and His words surpass our limitations. So don’t give up; instead, take a moment to pause. When your strength wanes, His remains. When your words may feel inadequate, His Word brings life. When your songs seem small, His Spirit moves powerfully. You don’t lead worship because you’ve got it all together. You lead because you know the One who brings everything together. You guide people to understand that God loves and accepts them just as they are—through their failures, disappointments, and struggles. Otherwise, we should not be singing the words of faith if we are not believing and demonstrating them ourselves. So pause. Don’t wear yourself out. Knowing your limits is a sign of being human and a faith of knowing God.

Don't Be Afraid To Rest As worship leaders, it's essential to remember that after pouring out our hearts in service, we must also seek to be filled. The service may be over, but the worship continues. Like Easter for example. It's a significant event. Lights, music, full seats—energy is at its peak. Then, like any other Monday, a new week arrives. The lights turn off, and the room falls quiet once again. It can feel like a crash. The adrenaline fades, leaving you to wonder, "Now what?" Here’s the answer: He is still the Rock. The same Jesus who conquered death is the same Jesus who holds you now—after the cross, after the tomb, after the stage is cleared. He hasn’t changed. He doesn’t need the crowd or the noise. You may feel exhausted, unnoticed, or question whether your offering was enough. “My salvation and my honor depend on God; he is my mighty rock, my refuge.” ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭62‬:‭7‬ ‭NIV‬‬ But Psalm 62:6 reminds us: "He alone is our Rock." We don’t build our faith on the highs or the excitement of Easter services. We build it on Him. As worship leaders, it's essential to remember that after pouring out our hearts in service, we must also seek to be filled. The Easter service may be over, but the worship continues. Don’t be afraid to rest. Take time in prayer and reflection, allowing God to replenish your spirit, so you can continue to lead with joy and strength. Embrace His presence and let it renew you for the journey ahead. Reflect on the Sacrifice Take a moment to meditate on the significance of Easter. Remember the depth of Christ's sacrifice and the joy of His resurrection. Prioritize Personal Worship Set aside time for personal worship. Engage in songs and hymns that resonate with your spirit. Engage in Scripture
 Dive into the Word of God. Find passages that speak to your heart and situation. Let the scriptures remind you of God’s promises and His unfailing love, which can rejuvenate your spirit. Invite the Holy Spirit
 Ask the Holy Spirit to fill you anew. Invite Him into your daily routine, trust His guidance and strength. As you navigate the days following Easter, remember that being filled is just as important as pouring out. For your ministry: - Anchor your setlists in purpose, not just in performance. - Focus your rehearsals on presence, not perfection. - Keep reminding your team: it’s not about the stage that matters; it’s about the foundation of Christ. For your soul: - Make space to rest without guilt, pressure, or the need for perfection. - Shift from "doing" to "being" with God this week. - Reconnect with the One who never needed you to perform—He just wants you to be loved. This week, step away from the production and into His presence. Sing a song without a microphone. Re-read Psalm 62, this time aloud—in your car, your kitchen, or in your quiet room. Let the words ground you; let them resonate louder than applause ever could. As you sit in the afterglow of Easter, remember: The Rock didn’t move. The Fortress didn’t fade. The Savior didn’t change. Let your worship rise from that place, and let your ministry be filled by His Spirit and His truth. He is still the Rock, and He will fill you once again, and forever. As you navigate the days following Easter, remember that being filled is just as important as pouring out. Embrace the process of renewal, allowing God to refresh your spirit so you can continue to lead with grace and love.

How do we honor the congregation's feedback while confidently staying true to the vision that God has given the worship team? As worship leaders, we carry a necessary tension within us—a dynamic interplay between leading and listening, between vision and the voices of our congregation. It’s vital that we remain true to the vision God has imparted to us while also valuing the experiences, stories, and desires of those we serve. Feedback can often feel like a blessing, but there are times it might hit us unexpectedly and feel like a curse. Perhaps someone questions a song you were inspired to share, or they mention that worship felt “off,” despite the dedication your team brought to the preparation. These moments call us not to defensiveness but to a deeper discernment with ourselves. This also gives us insight into the one offering the comment. Let me must say: people will always have their comments, but 99% of the time it’s not about you. It’s something that triggered in them. If it is a comment you can grow and learn from, embrace the wisdom. If not, take it as a grain of salt, but let it still season you. How do we lead with both courage and humility? “Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him, and he will act.” – Psalm 37:5 (ESV) Psalm 37:5 reminds us: “Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him, and he will act.” This is an active, robust trust—one that roots us firmly in the vision God has given us, while also keeping our hearts open and receptive. We are not called to dismiss the voices of our congregation; neither are we meant to be led by them. Instead, we are called to lead with love and clarity, anchored in God's vision while being attentive to how He may be speaking through His people. It doesn’t mean you become a doormat to other people’s comments, it means that you look at it as an opportunity to grow and learn. "We are not called to dismiss the voices of our congregation; we are called to lead with love and clarity Balancing feedback and vision requires adopting these three postures: Curiosity over criticism What if we approached feedback as an opportunity rather than a threat? Instead of becoming defensive, let’s lean in with genuine curiosity. Discernment over defensiveness Not every piece of feedback is the absolute truth, but some can provide real insight. The key is to take it to God first. Not every comment needs to alter our direction, but every comment is a chance to ask, “God, what are You saying here?” Clarity over consensus Our calling isn't to create a playlist that satisfies everyone; rather, we are tasked with fostering an environment where God is honored and lives are transformed. This may not always garner applause, but clarity brings peace and purpose. Take it as a grain of salt, but let season you Questions to Consider: 1. Where have I experienced tension between congregational feedback and the worship vision God has given me? 2. Am I listening from a place of fear or a genuine desire to grow? 3. What feedback should I prayerfully consider, and what might I need to release with love? Lead with both vision and vulnerability. Seek God’s wisdom to discern what to embrace and what to set aside. Anchor yourself in the divine mission He has entrusted to you, ready to listen with a heart positioned for growth—not out of a need for approval or people-pleasing, but to please Him. He is the One we trust to act when we commit our way to Jesus.

Stillness isn’t just a poetic invitation to slow down; it’s a command. It’s a bold and holy interruption in a world that glorifies hustle, production, and performance—especially within worship culture, where the lights, setlists, and seamless transitions often take center stage. Here’s the truth: stillness is disruptive. It can be uncomfortable and vulnerable. “Be still, and know that I am God.” —Psalm 46:10 When God says, “Be still,” He’s not simply asking us to stop doing for the sake of rest. He’s inviting us to lay down our armor—the armor that tells us if we can prove our worth, we’ll be worthy; the armor that whispers if we keep moving, we won’t have to feel the ache; the armor that believes control equals safety. In worship, stillness can feel like exposure. No backing track. No crowd energy. Just you. Raw, real, and unfiltered. This can be terrifying, until we remember who is inviting us into that space. God doesn’t call us to stillness to deprive us; He calls us to be present and to listen as He invites us. In the stillness, we are reminded that we are not God. We don’t have to hold it all together. We don’t have to be the moment; we just have to be in the moment—with Him. Stillness is where striving ends and surrender begins. It’s where the noise fades and truth rises. It’s where the facade cracks just enough for light to break through. What if stillness isn’t the threat we’ve made it out to be? What if it’s actually the safest place we could stand? Perhaps the vulnerability of being still isn’t a sign of weakness; maybe it’s the bravest thing we can offer in worship. Because when we finally stop, we can hear Him whisper again: “I am God. I’ve got this. I’ve got you.” Personally: Where in your worship or your life are you avoiding stillness? What might it look like to bring your unpolished, vulnerable self before God today? Set aside five minutes today to be still. No music. No words. Just you and God. Notice what comes up and allow yourself to be led into His worship. Follow Him into the invitation of His silence, where you can hear His words most clearly.