I was a teenager when I decided to be a musician within the church. Thankfully, I went to a church that nurtured my talents and bolstered my weaknesses into strengths. Then, I went to college, where I failed Music Theory before I passed it, and where I cried outside of my voice teacher’s office every week.

There are statistics about church planters, how many succeed and how many fail, and who is more likely to experience each. We have plugged our ears to those numbers and plodded along, seeking faithfulness despite the smallness and obscurity of the ministry to which we belong. 

Each morning before dawn, I walk downstairs, avoiding all the creaks in the floorboards, and I turn on the Christmas tree. I strike a match and light a candle. I shove back the darkness with a small flame.