The Path I Didn’t Know I Was On

Thoughts on the Road

Apart from the good chats and jamming to music, my favorite thing about road trips is the clarity of mind that comes from sitting with my thoughts for hours at a time. The ever-changing scenery provides a backdrop that allows my mind to process things I might not take the time to sit with otherwise.

Recently, I spent 20 hours over three days driving through rural NSW, VIC, and SA. There’s something about the vastness of the open road—the rhythm of the tires, the shifting landscapes—that invites reflection. With no distractions, I found myself unpacking thoughts I hadn’t fully processed, especially about my role in worship and production.

Losing and Finding Myself in Service

For much of my life, I found my identity in what I did. Whether it was leading worship, running sound, or managing lyrics, my connection to God felt deeply intertwined with my ability to serve. When I wasn’t actively contributing, I struggled to feel like I had a place.

But over time, I started to see things differently. I wouldn’t say there was a single defining moment, but rather a slow reframing of my perspective. I began to recognize that my worth wasn’t in my function—but in my sonship. I wasn’t valuable because I was serving. I was valuable because God calls me His.

This realization changed everything. Instead of service feeling like a requirement, it became an overflow of love. Instead of striving to prove my worth, I found freedom in simply being.

A Sobering Realization

There’s a tension in this, though. On one hand, it’s freeing to know my identity isn’t tied to my abilities. On the other, it’s humbling to realize that the skills I’ve spent years refining don’t hold much weight in the lens of eternity.

That doesn’t mean they’re meaningless—but their true value comes from how they serve the Kingdom. My ability to mix sound or create an immersive worship experience isn’t important on its own. It’s important because it clears the way for people to encounter Jesus.

This shift in perspective has given me a new way to view my role. I no longer see my skills as something that define me, but rather as tools—tools that allow the gospel to be heard, worship to be unhindered, and people to experience the presence of God.

Letting Go of the Weight

If you’ve ever felt like your worth is tied to what you do, I get it. It’s easy to fall into that mindset, especially in tech ministry where the work is often unnoticed unless something goes wrong. But your value isn’t in your ability to serve—it’s in who you are.

For me, learning this took time. Even now, I catch myself slipping back into old habits, feeling like my significance is tied to my role. But when that happens, I remind myself of the truth: I am a son before I am a servant. My relationship with God is not based on my contribution.

This is why I believe churches should focus on valuing people above their skills. Every role in ministry has its challenges, but tech ministry can feel particularly isolating. If we create a culture where discipleship comes first—where people are seen and known beyond what they bring to the table—then service becomes an overflow rather than an obligation.

If you’re struggling with this, maybe it’s time to take a step back. Even for a season, consider rediscovering your relationship with God outside of your service. Who are you when you’re not behind the sound desk? When you’re not leading? When you’re not working in the background to make sure everything runs smoothly? The answer to that question is more important than any role you could ever fill.

A New Way Forward

Since shifting my perspective, I’ve found a deeper joy in what I do. Because I no longer serve out of duty, I serve from gratitude and love.

I’ve also been intentional about staying connected to God outside of my service. Regular worship at home, small group environments where there’s no expectation to “perform,” and simply creating space to just be with God—these have been essential.

Now, I see my role differently. My skills are not the end goal. They are simply the vehicle. Whether through sound, worship, or production, my heart is to create a space where people can encounter God clearly and without distraction. That is the true value of what we do—not in how well we execute, but in how well we point people to Him.

And that, I believe, is enough.