A New Season

For nearly 12 years, I’ve had the privilege of serving on the drums at church. helping lead worship, growing alongside incredible musicians, and being part of something bigger than myself. And for almost 11 of those years, I’ve shared pieces of that journey here through videos. It’s been a meaningful ride, and I don’t take a single moment of it for granted.

When I think back on all those years, a lot comes to mind. Early mornings, late-night rehearsals, learning new songs, building relationships with other musicians, and stepping on stage week after week with the same goal: to serve and help create an environment where people can worship. There have been moments where everything just clicked. When the band was locked in, the room was engaged, and you could feel that connection that goes beyond music. Those moments are hard to put into words, but they’ve meant a lot to me.

I’m deeply thankful for every opportunity I’ve had to serve. I’m thankful for every person who’s poured into me, challenged me, and helped me grow, not just as a drummer, but as a person. There are lessons I’ve learned along the way about preparation, humility, teamwork, and consistency that have shaped me in ways I didn’t fully realize at the time. I’ve tried to pass some of those lessons on through the videos I’ve shared, and I hope they’ve encouraged someone out there along the way.

This past weekend marked my last time playing for a while, and it was a special one for me.

Going into Sunday, I knew it would be my last time behind the kit for this season, and something shifted. I wasn’t overthinking like I normally do. I wasn’t trying to prove anything or play everything perfectly. I just played. And because of that, I think I enjoyed it more than I have in a long time.

The interaction with the band felt natural. The energy on stage was real. Worship felt genuine. I found myself leading from behind the drums in a way that felt free rather than forced. It reminded me of why I started doing this in the first place.

I love music.

I love how it brings people together.

And I love being able to contribute in a way that supports something bigger than myself.

A few people knew it was my last Sunday for a while, and their encouragement meant more than they probably realized. Sometimes it’s the small conversations, the quick “I appreciate you,” or the simple acknowledgment that sticks with you.

After service, I shared a video update, and the response has been really encouraging. A lot of kind words, a lot of support, and a lot of people reaching out. I’m grateful for that. At the same time, I’m learning to receive those things without letting them define me. That’s been part of my growth in this season, being thankful for encouragement, but not dependent on it.

Because if I’ve learned anything over the past year, it’s that identity and value can’t be built on feedback, good or bad. That’s something I’m still working through, but I’m more aware of it now than I’ve ever been. I’m reminded of what it says in Proverbs 29:25, that the fear of man is a trap. I’ve fallen into that trap before, letting opinions, responses, or lack of response shape how I see myself. I don’t want to live there anymore.

And that brings me to the shift.

As I step into the clinical phase of my graduate program to become an LPC, life is about to get very full. Between a full-time job, classes, internship hours, and family, I’ve had to take an honest look at what I can realistically give my time and energy to.

And the truth is, something had to give.

As much as I love drumming, and I truly do, I don’t feel like I can give it the preparation and attention it deserves right now. For me, that matters. I’ve always tried to approach playing with a level of excellence and intentionality, and I don’t want to do it halfway. Colossians 3:23 says to work at everything as if you are working for the Lord, and that has always been my mindset when it comes to playing. If I can’t give it that level of focus right now, then it’s time to step back.

So for this season, I’ll be stepping away from drumming.

That wasn’t an easy decision. This has been a big part of my life for a long time. But I also believe there are seasons where you’re called to shift your focus, even if it means stepping away from something you love. Ecclesiastes 3 reminds us that there is a time for everything, a time to step in, and a time to step away. I believe this is one of those moments.

This isn’t goodbye to church, far from it. I’ll still be there with Cindy and the boys, just in a different role. Instead of being behind the drums, I’ll be in the room, present in a different way. And honestly, I’m looking forward to that.

I think this season is going to be a reset in a lot of ways.

A chance to focus on school and continue growing in a new direction.

A chance to be more present with my family.

And maybe even a chance to rediscover the joy of playing music without some of the pressure that can come along with it.

Because at the end of the day, music has always been something I love, not something I want to feel weighed down by.

That love hasn’t gone anywhere.

If anything, I think this break will help me reconnect with it in a healthier way.

I’m incredibly grateful to God for the gift of drumming and for every door it’s opened over the years. I’m grateful for every stage I’ve played on, every musician I’ve shared it with, and every opportunity I’ve had to serve.

And I’m especially thankful for all of you who’ve followed along—whether through videos, conversations, or just quiet support from a distance. It means more than you probably know.

This isn’t the end of the story; it’s just a new chapter.

I don’t know exactly what it will look like yet, but I’m trusting the process. I’m trusting that this season has purpose, even if it feels different from what I’m used to.

Here’s to growth.

Here’s to new seasons.

And here’s to trusting where God leads next.