What You Might Be Feeling (But Haven’t Had Words For)
And how to start the conversation you’ve been avoiding.
I didn’t see it coming!
I sat across from a worship leader I’d been pastoring for years.
He’s one of those people who seems to carry the room.
He is gifted, faithful, kind, always willing.
But something in his eyes was different that day. It made me uneasy.
He fidgeted with his coffee cup and finally said:
“I love our church, and I know that there is always someone to sit with. But it feels like, unless I’m serving, no one really cares about me. They see me, but they don’t know me.”He wasn’t angry.
He wasn’t bitter.
He was just tired of feeling disconnected from the church he played such a big role in.
We all have questions we’re too afraid to ask, don’t we?
You love your church.
You believe in the mission.
You want to use your gift for God.
But there’s at least one question that keeps rising in the back of your mind… It’s one you’re too afraid to ask out loud:
“Am I being pastored… or just used?”
“Do they know me… or just use my gift?”
“Would they notice if I left the church?”
And then there’s this one -
“If I start a conversation, are they going to question my heart or even listen to what I have to say without getting defensive?”
You’re afraid of sounding ungrateful, of rocking the boat, or being penalized for voicing your feelings, whether it's through missed opportunities, relationships, or a sense of belonging.
So you push the question down.
You keep serving.
You keep smiling.
You keep showing up.
And you stay silent.
But something inside you keeps whispering, “Isn’t there supposed to be more than this?”
You are probably right.
Church is meant to be more than just showing up and ‘serving.’ It’s a community where we seek God together. A place where you care for me and I care for you.
Every church is made up of individuals. Each with their own hearts, minds, and needs. At its best, the church is an environment where everyone feels heard, cared for, and spiritually nourished.
The Quiet Ache Behind the Platform
✅ You show up, week after week.
✅ You design, you rehearse, you serve, you solve.
✅ You help create environments that move people closer to God.
✅ You take the critique and the constant demand to keep improving.
✅ You strive to bring your best.
✅ You want people to encounter Jesus so much.
❌ And you wonder if other people long for you to be in Jesus’ presence, the way you desire it for them.
It’s so easy to get lost in the service and feel forgotten in the process of making Sundays happen.
Many creatives feel this tension:
“I’m growing as a contributor… but shrinking as a disciple.”
We give everything we have and start to wonder if anyone notices, or cares, when we’re spiritually running on empty.
When the Sunday Service Isn’t Enough
We’ve all seen it:
The talented worship leaders, sound engineers, singers, or producers.
They give their all, and then some!
They’re everywhere, doing it all.
And then, out of the blue, they ‘suddenly’ step away.
Some leave the church.
Some leave ministry.
Some leave the faith entirely.
And it knocks us about. Because they looked okay and did “all the right things”.
But what was missing?
The truth? Most people don’t crash out of nowhere. They burn out quietly over time. The fire that once burned so brightly dulls to embers before going cold.
Behind so many stories of people walking away from the Lord is a deeper reality:
They were platformed instead of pastored.
Praised for their gift, but often never really known as a person.
There was stuff going on, but no one knew.
While this isn’t always the case and people make choices about their own lives and relationships with God, it does happen… all too often.
This shouldn’t be normal. And it doesn’t have to be your story.
What You Might Be Feeling (But Haven’t Had Words For)
I’ve had these conversations over the years, and sadly, some key themes arise.
We are all just doing our best, pastors and creatives alike, but often the right conversations aren’t being had. Conversations that can feel direct or scary, about what we lack in our community or in our spiritual growth.
And I say this from experience, knowing that people I have led (or Cass has led) have felt these things too, and I have felt these things myself.
Conversations around things like…
A need for spiritual formation, not just scheduling.
I don’t want to just “serve faithfully.” I want to grow spiritually.
But I can’t do that if all I ever hear is, “Can you do one more thing?”Permission to be a person, not a performer.
I’m not just a role to fill or a vibe to create. I’m a human.
Please don’t only reach out when something breaks, or keep leaning on me when I'm the one who's breaking.A longing to be invited, not just instructed.
I want to help shape the vision, not just decorate it.
Invite me into the story early. Let me bring who I am and what the Lord has shown me about Himself, not just what I can do.
(Yes, even our production friends in black out the back… some of the best pastors we have had the privilege of meeting have often been relegated to a sound desk when people fail to see the gift on their life.)A culture of care, not just “excellence”.
Creativity requires risk. Risk means sometimes you won’t do what someone else sees. Please don’t shame me when things don’t go as you planned, but couldn’t, wouldn’t, or didn’t communicate.
Mid-week presence, not just Sunday pump.
I need someone who sees me Monday to Friday, not just on Sundays.
Someone who shows up when there’s nothing to gain.
What Happens When You Don’t Say Anything?
You’ve probably had these thoughts:
“It’s not that big a deal.”
”There’s no point. They probably won’t listen anyway”
“They’re doing their best. I just need to deal with it.”
“If I say something, I’ll sound ungrateful or they won’t let me serve again.”
But here’s the truth:
The Church is better, more vibrant, and more God-fearing when everyone is able to bring their whole selves, as we work together to bring heaven to earth.
This isn’t about complaining.
It’s about choosing honesty.
Choosing health and longevity.
What Happens When You Do Start the Conversation?
You could storm into your pastor’s office with a list of grievances and let them have it. But we both know that won’t do anyone any good (especially if they’re already feeling overwhelmed).
Or, you could rock up to them on a Sunday and ‘tell it like it is’. More passive-aggressive style. It might sound like a good idea, but that will for sure put a bigger divide between you.
Instead, you could initiate a different kind of conversation, one that begins to shape a healthier, creative culture.
But how do you do that?