So, I’ve been looking for worship pastor jobs.
(Shameless plug if you know of an LGBTQ affirming church looking for a bald one!)
It has been an interesting ride.
I’ve sent countless emails, resumes and video examples.
In this whole process, I’ve self-identified as a worship leader.
That’s how I present myself several times a day and in every email I send.
I’m beginning to think this might be a bit dangerous.
Self-identifying as a worship leader and not having a worship leading job creates some cognitive dissonance.
I’ve started wondering if I really am a worship leader.
Am I actually qualified?
Do I have enough experience?
Am I good enough?
Why is nobody looking for a worship pastor right now?
Am I unhireable?
Why isn’t this working?
I’m totally biased, but I think I’m at least a decent worship leader.
I think I would be able to add value to a church and lead worship well.
These are the thoughts that play in my head as I’m going through this search.
And I don’t think these are bad questions necessarily, but they could be harmful.
You see, in the repeated questioning of my abilities and qualifications, I’ve started to question my overall value or identity.
That seems like a touchy-feely thing to say.
I probably would have judged myself at some point for saying that.
But that was when I had a position I could tie my identity to.
Though it may be touchy-feely I think it’s true.
When my identity, purpose and value are wrapped up in “worship leader,” my perspective gets twisted.
So, I’ve had to look elsewhere.
I don’t love to say that “God told me,” but I do know what four separate people have told me.
Without knowing any of the self-doubt, identity stuff I was wrestling with, four different people have said, “Maybe you’re not a worship leader.”
At the time, that was completely unhelpful to hear and only made me question myself more.
So, what am I?
If not worship, then what?
I’m definitely more qualified to be a worship leader than anything else.
I’ve applied to marketing jobs and graphic design jobs and project management jobs and executive assistant jobs.
All to no avail.
This whole head game started to shift when I was reading a friend’s blog.
His subtitle/description of himself caught me off-guard.
It read, “Just a guy that Jesus loves.”
I dug that.
It turned my attention away from myself.
It put the attention on the bigger picture, the larger narrative, ultimate reality.
I’m here because God arranged for me to be here.
Breath.
Heartbeat.
Parents.
A universe capable of sustaining human life.
None of those things did I create or arrange for.
I’m here because somebody else wanted me here.
Made in the image of God.
Loved and invited into the redemption of heaven and earth.
Called to be a force for good in a broken world.
I’m here because I am wanted.
Full stop.