Daniel Darling's Blog, page 64

Repeat the Sounding Joy

Have you noticed lately that it’s the Christians who are often most cranky during the Christmas season? Complaining has almost become required. We hear sermons on how to deal with the stress of Christmas. We read ominous-sounding emails and Facebook posts on the so-called “War on Christmas.” And of course, cable news shows ramp up the debates on whether an elderly greeter in Dinkytown, USA, articulated her “Merry Christmas” greeting in a way that satisfies the Westminster Confession.

And let’s not even get into the tiresome annual debate about the chubby guy with the beard decked out in red from head-to-toe. Pastors, as part of their sober calling, are often summoned to decide whether using Santa wrapping paper is grounds for church discipline.

Is it just me, or have we Christians – the ones who know and believe God visited this sin soaked world in the form of a baby so He could save the world from sin – completely sucked the joy out of what should be the most joyous season?

My goal this Christmas season is to call Christians back to joy. Read five reasons why here:

Do You Really Believe This? On Santa Claus, Jesus, and the Unbelievable

It is during this season, the glorious Christmas season, that my wife watches her favorite channel the most. Unfortunately for me, that channel is not one of the ESPN family of networks, but the Hallmark Channel. I’m generally a fan of Hallmark’s usually wholesome television programming, stuff you can actually watch with your nine-year-old in the room, so please don’t misunderstand what I’m about to say.

Here it is: The endless string of Christmas rom-coms I’m forced to watch with my wife makes me want to channel William Wallace in Braveheart, rip off my shirt, and yell, ”Freedom!”

Maybe it’s the very simple plot lines (wealthy developer wants to tear down a small town’s sacred institution to build condos–oh, the horror–until a scrappy heroine saves the day with a pitched local campaign and then falls in love with the formerly evil developer), the overwrought sentimentalism, or the poor acting. Or maybe it’s just the difference between men and women. My wife can’t get enough of the Hallmark Channel at Christmas.

If there’s a message in every new Christmas special (and perhaps every Christmas movie ever made), it’s pretty simple: Do you believe? By “believe,” we typically mean that really joyful, spirited, wonderful people put their faith in Santa Claus at Christmas. And this faith injects a spirit into a normally grouchy, stressed, terrible world.

Christians have historically been all over the map with Santa, from denouncing him as a work of the devil (Santa = a rearranged version of Satan!) to moderate disgust, to passive participation. The latter is where I’d guess most evangelicals are now. And if you’ve read my work for long, you’ll know that I’m no Santa grouch. Like most parents, we make the annual pilgrimage to the mall to have our kids sit on the fat man’s lap. I’ve yet to talk to a prodigal who fingered Santa as the catalyst for his departure from the faith, so I think an honest engagement with Santa Claus is mostly harmless and fun.

But I want to circle back to the theme of most Christmas movies: Do you believe? It seems absurd to most rational people that a man in a red suit lives in a cozy home workshop at the frigid North Pole, and that he could possibly worm down every chimney and deliver gifts to good kids. It’s a pretty far-fetched idea. So rational people don’t actually believe it. Yet this part of Christmas makes us really want to believe it. Because, the story goes, if this were true, all would be right in the world.

Does that not sound just a wee bit familiar to another argument? I’m not suggesting the Santa myth is a perfect allegory of the Christian story or that to believe in Christ is the same as believing in Santa. We know the gospel narrative is not “be good for goodness sake” but that Christ was good for us, satisfying the law’s righteous demands and absorbing the punishment of a just God on our behalf.

But this question, Do you really believe this? Is this not the same question asked of us by the world about the Christian story? 

Of course, the substance of the Christian question is a more robust, more unbelievable premise than Santa: Do you believe God became a man, entered space and time, was born of a virgin, lived a perfect life, was unjustly crucified, stayed dead in a rich man’s tomb for three days, and then miraculously was raised to life and is now the reigning King of the world? 

The Christian story is buttressed by solid circumstantial evidence (many infallible proofs), and yet it is an unbelievable narrative. Perhaps we American Christians have gotten so used to the gospel story that we’ve forgotten just how incredible it is. But an increasingly secular society is asking us the question, Do you really believe this? It’s not an intellectual question they are asking. It’s not a search for archeological proof. It’s a rhetorical question of near incredulity. You can’t possibly believe this. 

Because rational people, educated people, progressive people just don’t believe that this man Jesus was the Son of God, that there really was a virgin named Mary, that the ugly intersection of humanity and divinity at the cross really is the pivot point of human history. Young people spend their parents’ hard-earned money at our finest educational institutions learning just how preposterous this is. Scientists write strongly worded rebuttals to the biblical narrative, because things like this just don’t happen.

And yet …what if it were true? Imagine if the story the Bible tells about Jesus is not allegory or myth, but actual historical record? What if the 500 witnesses who saw the nail-scarred Jesus after his resurrection were right? If this is true, then the world really will be made right. Evil really has been defeated, and a new kingdom awaits those rescued by the King. Lamb and lion really will lie down together. All races will one day come together in praise of God’s glory. Creation will once again be restored from its tumult.

In other words, if the real story of Christmas, the Incarnation, is true, it changes everything. In fact, I would argue, even if you don’t believe it to be true, you might wish it to be true. Maybe this is why we cling to fantasies like Santa Claus, like the Disney fairy tales. It reflects within each of us a deep, heart-felt longing for things to be made right.

Could it be that the nostalgia for the good old times is really us missing our original home, Eden, before sin and death destroyed what God made perfect? Could it be that our hopes for a world where things are magical and beautiful is a yearning for heaven? Perhaps this inspired Phillips Brooks when he wrote the famous words of “O, Little Town of Bethlehem” and the line, “The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee (Christ) tonight.”

To believe in Santa defies logic, to be sure. But to believe in the Christian story is also to believe the unbelievable. Not that Christianity cannot be logically explained. Not that the wisest believing scholars haven’t given it weight. But at the end of the day, to follow King Jesus, to be a Christian, is to bow the knee to a baby turned man, God in the flesh, fully human and fully divine. And the question of Christmas becomes rhetorical: Do you really believe this? 

Yes, with my life, my heart, and my mind, I do. And I hope you do, too.

 

The Power of a Mentor

You can’t underestimate the power of a mentor. I know that because six years ago, a man came into my life who would shape me in profound ways. This month I had the chance to write about this man, Bill Swanger, and his impact. Here’s an excerpt:

Bill became one of my best friends during my five years of pastoral ministry. On several occasions, early in my tenure, he saved me, literally. He showed me how to pursue change in a way that didn’t alienate members. He taught me how to deal with conflict in a graceful, humble way. More than anything, Bill showed me what it looks like to shepherd God’s people. “Make the ministry about God and about people, Dan, and you will do well,” he frequently said.

In my years of ministry I’ve had the privilege of meeting many church leaders. I’ve learned a lot from their years of experience. Some people collect baseball cards, artifacts, or books. But I collect mentors, downloading wisdom and grace for crucial life choices.

But none have impacted me like Bill. He never once said, “Want me to be your mentor?” He just stepped right in, meeting me for monthly breakfasts, lifting me up during trials, and serving me as a coach. Bill cried with me. Laughed with me. Grew with me. He opened up his life and shared his deepest frustrations and greatest triumphs. And even though he and I ministered in two different generations, the gap never hurt our friendship. It only enriched it.

Read the whole thing here: 

Preach the Gospel and Forget Politics?

Evangelicals are evaluating their posture in an increasingly post-Christian age. This is good, but there are some myths we’ve adopted that are unhelpful. In my weekly post for ERLC, I tackled five of these. Here is a common one: We should only preach the gospel and make disciples and not worry about politics. Here is my answer:

It’s true that no political party or movement can change the world. Sometimes political activism on both the left and the right can be overly triumphalist. Only the gospel, not political ideology, has the power to change hearts. Yes and amen.

But the gospel, if you notice, is a rather political statement itself. The gospel declares, first of all, that Christ and not Caesar is the ultimate King (Mark 12:17) and that even the most powerful rulers serve under the authority of King Jesus (Rom. 13:1). Even the most popular prayer in the world, the Lord’s Prayer, is really a prayer of revolution, declaring that there is another King and another kingdom that is not of this world (Matt. 6:9-13).So you can’t really preach the gospel and avoid politics. Politics are embedded in the very heart of the gospel. Furthermore, think about Jesus’ words in the Great Commission. The imperative is to “make disciples” and teach them “all that I have commanded you” (Matt. 28:19-20).

The gospel doesn’t simply punch your ticket to heaven; it empowers Christians for a radical new lifestyle, one that is at odds with the world (Jas. 4:4; Rom. 8:7).  The most nonpolitical Christian, if he is faithful, is a political statement to a world system that is under the temporary and restrained rule of Satan (Eph. 2:2).

The Church is to be an alternate society, an outpost of the kingdom to come (1 Peter 2:9). This means the gospel calls us not simply to make converts who have no effect on the world around them. The gospel calls us be agents of reconciliation, to be the hands and feet of Jesus, to live and work toward justice and righteousness, to seek the welfare of our cities, to advance human flourishing. In fact, a Christianity that has no impact on the world around it, according to James, is a dead, lifeless faith (Jas. 2:14-16).

I’m glad, for instance, that men like William Wilberforce and Martin Luther King Jr. and Deitrich Bonheoffer had a gospel big enough to demand justice for the innocents. To ignore injustice is to say to the 19th-century slave in America, to the 20th-century Jew in Germany, to the 21st-century unborn baby: “Be warmed and filled.” It’s a diminished gospel, a lifeless faith.

What our generation of evangelicals has to understand is that love of neighbor doesn’t mean only the politically safe endeavors of charity that everyone affirms. It might also mean having the courage to get involved in the socio-political structures that either advance or hurt human flourishing.

You can read the entire article here: 

A Theology of Technology

How do Christians handle technology? We we blindly accept it all forms as neutral? Do we withdraw in a sort of isolationist rejection? Fascinating questions we must tackle as faithful followers of Jesus during the digital revolution. These are the questions Craig Detwiler discusses in a fascinating new book, iGods. I had the change to chat with him this week over at Leadership Journal. Here’s a snippet of that conversation:

If you could counsel church leaders, how would you advise them to approach, in their teaching and personal life example, an adequate theology of technology?

As with entertainment, the temptation seems to be disengagement or overindulgence. How do develop a maturity that welcomes the wonders and gifts of technology without letting our devices drive our decision-making?

I’ve been rereading Scripture with an eye on technology, wondering how to translate enduring truths into contemporary terms. For example, can we call God the original technologist? Perhaps it is helpful to talk about Genesis in terms of engineering and aesthetics. We know that Jesus was more than a carpenter’s son, but do we also realize the Greek word for “carpenter” was tekton? Perhaps the “magic” that we associate with the iPhone isn’t so far removed from the original Designer.

I haven’t heard enough pastors talking and modeling digital discipleship. If our congregants spend hours each week involved in social media, then how do we follow God and craft a winsome witness via our smart phones? In the 21st century, we all have the capacity to be narrowcasters, with the possibility of becoming broadcasters. That is a remarkable moment to preach and teach within.

We also might find ourselves distinguished by our ongoing belief in the sacredness of the body, the need to relieve physical and psychic pain and suffering via presence—from chicken soup to bedside prayers. I’m confident the Spirit will continue to lead us towards acts of kindness towards our neighbors and into the farthest corners of the Internet.

You really should read the rest of this interview here:

Guest Post: Living Out a Risky Faith

I’m pleased to feature a guest post from my good friend, Owen Strachan.  Owen is a gifted communicator whose work appears in publications ranging from Christianity Today to Atlantic Monthly. He is executive director of the Council on Biblical Manhood & Womanhood and assistant professor of Christian Theology and Church History at Boyce College in Louisville, Kentucky.  He also teaches for the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary and is the author of Risky Gospel: Abandon Fear and Build Something Awesome.  He is married to Bethany and is the father of two children. You can check out the website for this book here: 

Something has happened in evangelicalism in recent years. We’re like the kid in the corner of the schoolroom with his head down. The teacher comes over to us and asks how we are and we only mumble in response. Recess comes and we walk listlessly around the playground. We feel depressed, we lack confidence, and nobody wants to play four-square with us.

Evangelicals need a shot in the arm today. We need some spring in our step. There are some folks out there who want to help us. They tell us that, if we buy their books and DVDs, we’ll learn the secret to being endlessly buoyant. Our troubles will evaporate; we might even become as rich as if we really pray hard. Other voices take us a different way. They tell us to play down our Christianity, to soften our faith, to focus on making friends and influencing societies. If we would stop representing ethics from a bygone era, we’d do ourselves a lot of favors, and get invited to a lot more dinner parties besides.

There’s another way we could go, though. It doesn’t involve chasing money, being relentlessly upbeat, or backing away from biblical conviction. It is a risk, though. It’s a challenge. In Scripture, Jesus calls us to a larger, bigger, surround-sound faith. He takes us by the shoulder, looks us in the eye, and tells us we can get on mission for him. In places like the Parable of the Talents in Matthew 25:14-30, the Lord of the Word challenges us to break with fearful Christianity, and to adopt a bold, aggressive brand of faith. We have a choice: we can be like the wicked servant who kept his head down, fearful of his great master, or we can be like the faithful servant who took his master’s investment and made more talents. The choice is simple; the options are stark.

We’re tempted in numerous ways today to be like the fearful servant. God seems like he’s out to get us. We’ve embraced a mystical faith that leaves us unable to make even basic decisions. We’re unsure whether to wear the white socks or the tan ones, and we’re nervous that if we make the wrong decision, we’ll mess up the work of the kingdom. We have no plan for our lives because the thought of long-term planning scares us. Better to keep our heads down, muddle through life, not make anyone really mad at us, and hope for God to zap us with wisdom and blessing from the sky.

The gospel offers us a better life than this. Don’t get me wrong: it’s a powerful gospel. It’s got a ton of horsepower. It will swallow us whole. But that’s the point: too many of us are looking for a solution to life outside of Christ and his call to follow him all the way with all our heart. What you and I most need is not a life of ease and comfort, where our daily troubles are gone. What we most need is a big vision of God that will push us onward and enable us to transcend our weaknesses. We need a dynamic Lord of heaven and earth and a plan for glorifying him with our careers, our families, our evangelism, our churches, and every aspect of our lives. Here’s the good news: Scripture gives us just this kind of plan.

This won’t look the same for every believer. God gives us his own specific calling on our lives. We often think of this as a bad thing–”Too bad I’m not her; then I could really be serving the Lord.” That’s backwards. God has given us our job, our family, our church, our friends. He doesn’t want you and me to be living someone else’s life and doing someone else’s ministry. He wants us to be faithful right where we are. He wants us to stop muddling through the day, the week, or the year, and to start approaching every minute of every hour as if it counts for eternity–because it does.

The solution for many of us who want to lead a more God-glorifying life is not going to be leaving where we are. It’s going to be staying in this place and working in Christ’s name. Evangelicals are really good at guilt. We constantly feel like we should be somewhere else; call it “Spiritual Dislocation Syndrome.” We should always be open to God’s leading, and he may call us to something far, far away. If so, great! But many of us need to approach the day-to-day existence he’s given us with greater purpose, purpose derived from the gospel of Jesus.

Maybe the risk God is leading you to take isn’t a career change. Maybe it’s that you need to risk your small vision of your life in order to honor him more thoroughly. Maybe you need to stop pursuing comfort, safety, and security, which we can easily make into false gospels. We think, “If I could just get along with my family, I’d be happy.” Or “If I could just like my career more, then I’d be content.” Or “If I could just get married, then my problems would be over.” None of these pursuits are bad in and of themselves. But here’s the deal: only God, and more of God, will make us truly happy. But to get more of God, you need to reframe your life.

It needs, in other words, to be about him.

How can you get there? What are the tips to happiness? Well, I’m not sure there’s a neat-and-clean checklist out there. I do know that if you truly embrace the call of the gospel, and if you find your identity in nothing but Christ and him crucified, you will find yourself remarkably free to serve your Savior. Christians are those who are loved by God. They know this truth, and it liberates them to lead God-intoxicated lives. There’s nothing holding you and me back from that. You’re not alone. You’re not stuck in the corner of the classroom. God has given his Son and 10,000 gifts to you.

Now all you need to do is open your eyes and start living in the power of the Spirit.

From Pulpit to Pew: On Joining a New Church

After five years in the pulpit and 30 years prior growing up in, working, and serving in my home church, I found myself in the oddly new position of looking for a place to worship. And so our quest for a new church began as soon as we moved from Chicago area to Nashville. After years of looking askance at those who “church shop”, I was in the buying mood. We felt it was important for us to find and get settled in a church as soon as we could, but we knew our search must be spirit-directed and guided by prayer. Our criteria was pretty simple:

It must be a church that preaches and teaches the Word of God (in a systematic, deep way.) We’re big on gospel-centered, expository preaching and teaching.
It must be proudly Southern Baptist.
It must be close to our house. In my pastoral experience, I’ve found greater distance from home to church usually prevents the type of community and closeness needed to become an essential part of a local body.

We also had some other criteria, but things that are not as much “deal-breakers” such as church culture, children’s ministry, welcoming atmosphere, friends who go there, etc. One thing we were determined not to do was choose a church based on flimsy things like the color of the carpet or the flavor of the coffee. We want to worship where God would have us worship, meaning we knew we wouldn’t find a church that exactly matches our preferences–and this is good because the point of worship is not me, but God.

So I created a spreadsheet of about 8 churches to visit, based on referrals from friends and web research and other criteria. Our plan was to visit all eight, then circle back and do second visits, just to get another look. But halfway through our search, something happened. We found a church we not only liked, but felt God calling us to join: First Baptist Church of Mt. Juliet. Angela and I went one after the first Sunday and said, “It’s okay if we just say we like this one and stay here, right?” And so we did.

There are a few reasons we feel compelled to worship at FBMJ. First, we just had a sense, after worshipping there, that this was the place for us. It was amazing, after talking with Pastor Andy Hale and his team, just how much we track with where God is taking this congregation: the desire to take the gospel to the community, to exalt Christ and seek His glory in all we do. Secondly, we really enjoy Pastor Andy’s preaching. By “enjoy” I don’t mean, “we found someone who politely affirms everything we believe so we leave feeling good.” By “enjoy,” I mean, we are fed by the rich, deep truths of Scripture every week. We’re challenged, convicted, and brought to repentance and confession weekly. Third, we have good friends who are involved at FBMJ. Jonathan and Beth Howe are longtime friends. Beth is the new director of children’s ministry at FBMJ. It’s helpful to have at least one family that you know very well attend church with you. Fourth, this church is close to our home, so we can be involved in activities and begin to build relationships with this body of believers.

Those are just a few of the reasons we like our new church home. There are many more. Mostly, though, we’re glad to join, get involved, to give and to take, to love and be loved, to nurture and be nurtured.

It’s a bit of a strange feeling sitting in a pew after being in the pulpit. I’ll admit there is a part of me that wants to get up and preach, but I know in this season of life God is wanting me to hear preaching rather than deliver preaching. And yet there is some relief in enjoying worship as a church member and not a church leader. Plus, I’m grateful to serve an organization at ERLC whose mission is to serve the Church.

 

What I’m most encouraged by is God’s work in every community, every corner of this world, building His church in big and small ways. There is much hand-wringing and debate about “the future of the Church”, but we have this sure promise from Jesus:

And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.

Matthew 16:18 (ESV)

Finding God in the Boring

Had a chance to interview my friend, Michael Kelly about his new book, Boring, which you should buy. Michael is a Director of Discipleship at Lifeway Christian Resources. He’s a creative speaker and author. If you have not read his book, Wednesdays Were Pretty Normal, you should. In that book, Michael walks thru the difficult journey he and his wife endured with their son, Joshua who was diagnosed with cancer at the age of 2.

In this video, we discuss the meaningfulness of the ordinary parts of our lives, how we glorify God in the mundane details of everyday.

Mark Buchanan’s Writing Rhythm

Mark Buchanan is one of my favorite authors. He’s a pastor, a teacher, and a man who can really turn a phrase. I had the chance to interview Mark last week for Leadership Journal. One of the questions I asked was this:

What is your writing rhythm? Are you an early morning writer, a late-night writer?

I write almost everything I produce—books, blogs, or articles—in a 4–5 hour block every Friday. I awake around 6:30 AM. I exercise, shower, eat, make coffee, read 2 chapters of Scripture and a few pages each of theology and history. Then, around 9 AM, I fire up the computer, and buckle down. I usually write until 2:00 PM (with a brief lunch break around 12:30). I try to finish shorter magazine pieces (under 1000 words) in a single sitting. Longer pieces, in two. When I”m working on a book, I don”t grant myself permission to leave until I’ve produced a minimum of 1500 words. Most trade books are 65,000 words. At the rate of 1500 words a week, I need 43 weeks to complete a book—roughly 10 months.I do, however, block out two to three 5 day writing blitzes when I’m moving toward a book deadline—at least one just to write, two if needed, and one just to edit the complete manuscript. For the writing marathons, I write 12-14 hours each day, and require of myself a minimum of 4000 words a day—so I can write roughly a third of a book in one 5-day block. In the editing marathon, I typically edit about 10 hours a day.

Read the entire interview here:

5 Tips to Establish Yourself as a Writer

I have people ask me all the time how to get started writing. I suspect there are many who enjoy putting words together and just don’t know how to get going. Maybe they are intimidated by the idea of writing a book or a long-form piece to a journal or magazine. Or even the idea of “blogging” and social media scare them. Here is the best advice I can give them. I hope this helps you if you are reading it:

1) Get started somewhere, even if it’s small. My advice now is to just get started. Create a blog and start putting your best stuff online. Michael Hyatt’s book, Platform is a great way to get started, though I advise you not to be intimidated and think you HAVE TO DO ALL OF THIS RIGHT NOW. Start with a free service like Tumblr, Blogger, or any of the others. Select a nice template, come up with a creative name and maybe tagline and then GET STARTED. Besides blogging, you might try to query some magazines or periodicals. The best way to do this is to purchase Sally Stuart’s Christian Market Guide. Find publications that might be a good fit for your writing style. Start, maybe, with devotional publications, curriculum publishers, etc. You might also consider guest-posting on popular blogs that offer content in your niche. Blogs are consistently in need of new content, so you might contact the proprietors and see if they are interested in your ideas. But do take risks and get started.

2) Publish that first piece. I talk to a lot of would-be writers and I hear the same thing, “I have this thing I wrote, but I’m not sure . . .” My advice is to get that piece of writing as good as you can get it and then publish it on your blog. Then get started writing another piece and publish it on your blog. The only way to get better at writing is to . . . write. You need to write hundreds, then thousands of pieces before you get good. Then you’ll discover that you’re only marginally good and need to write another hundred, if not another thousand to get better. But, for Heaven’s sake, stop perfecting that first piece like it’s the Mona Lisa. It’s probably not. Publish.

3) Have confidence that in time, good writing gets noticed. It’s my own personal law of creativity that the best stuff gets noticed. So before you try to sell yourself ahead of time, write in the trenches, write in obscurity for a good long time and actually get good at writing. Trust the process and know that if you consistently put your best content online, if you grow, if you’re open to critique and change, then you’ll get discovered. You will. Case in point: I’ve been writing for about 15 years. But I’ve only been seriously blogging for about 5 or so. I still don’t have one of the most highly trafficked blogs in the blogosphere, but after I committed to working hard and putting good stuff online, I got noticed. People starting reading my stuff, linking to it, passing it along. I think this goes back to a good theology of work. We work, we develop our gifts, not so we can get a fat contract or be rich and famous, but to the glory of God. The work itself matters, not who sees it and what happens. God sees it. So do your best work, even if only one human reads it. And, typically, you will get noticed and good things can happen.

4) Don’t be the one who pesters everyone to tweet, link to, or give you attention. Maybe this is a pet peeve of mine, but don’t be the guy who on Twitter tags someone famous and says, “You might like this . . . .” or “I write this, can you tweet it out.” Look, if you’re writing is good, people will notice. That’s not to say there is something wrong with promotion or marketing. Not at all. If you believe in your message, you want it to get out there. Still, there is a crass way to do this that skips all the steps it takes to be good enough to be well read. Don’t take that shortcut. Write well and you won’t have to convince anyone to read your stuff.

5) Don’t build your platform on outrage. There is a increasingly rich market for “evangelicals who are not like other evangelicals.” Controversy sells and generates clicks. And for a short season, this formula works. But over the long haul, if this is your game, you’ll end up running out of steam and having to generate outrage to keep your rapid fan base happy. But is this the way of Christ? Is the way to glorify God with your gifts? And do you want to be that guy know solely by what you are against? Now, an important caveat to those, right now, queuing up blog posts to say that I’m part of a secret cabal stifling dissent: there is a place for thoughtful, robust, substantive, even satirical critique. But always check your motives and make it your mission to be creative, tell your story, take risks, and use your gifts to glorify God.