Several years ago, I had just finished leading worship for a big event that had taken a huge amount of my emotional and physical energy, the better part of six months to plan and execute, and a significant amount of ministry capital, when a letter arrived in my mailbox (an actual letter, in my actual mailbox) addressed to (you guessed it …) me.
As any humble worship leader would do, I hoped that this letter would contain high praise for my incomparable musical and spiritual prowess, list specific ways I was awesome, tell me particularly impressive things I had done and possibly contain a financial blessing (i.e. “cash”).
I opened it up, ready to receive the flattering praise of an adoring
fan congregation member, and instead read the following (I’ll summarize for time’s sake):
1. That was the worst thing ever.
2. You are the worst worship leader ever.
3. You have ruined everything.
4. Did I mention you are the worst worship leader ever?
5. Grace and peace to you from God our Father.
Let’s just say it wasn’t the glowing letter I was hoping for.
I immediately wrote this person a response that said:
1. That was actually the best thing ever.
2. I’m actually the best worship leader ever.
3. You’re an idiot.
4. Did I mention that I’m the best worship leader ever?
5. May God’s richest blessings be showered upon you.
Then I felt better. And then I crumpled that letter up and threw it away. Then shredded it. Then threw it away again. Then I wiped the servers. Even though the letter was handwritten. It’s never a big deal to wipe servers, apparently, as we all know.