The Walk: Real Stories of Faith

Worship Leader Magazine

The Walk from Worship Leader Magazine is a podcast of real conversations with worship leaders, artists, pastors and believers, hosted by worship leader, songwriter and pastor Kurtis Parks. Each episode is about the moments when faith was tested, obedience cost something, and God showed up. Guests include Tauren Wells, Lecrae, Jenn Johnson, Matt Maher, Aaron Shust, Leanna Crawford, Ginny Owens and 150+ more. We talk about calling and surrender, worship leading and songwriting, church hurt and healing, unanswered prayer, and what it looks like to walk by faith in everyday life. Whether you lead worship every Sunday or you're just trying to follow Jesus through a hard season, The Walk is here to encourage you. Faith isn't just a moment. It's a walk, and you don't have to walk it alone. Presented by Planning Center. Show notes and more at worshipleader.com/podcast-network/the-walk

  1. 14h ago

    Carl and Laura Lentz: What It Took to Put It Back Together

    Carl Lentz led Hillsong NYC — thousands in a weekend, celebrity mentorships, an Oprah interview — until his extramarital affair became national news and, as he puts it, "that chapter that God had given us to entrust just collapsed." Six years later he and his wife Laura have written Overcoming Infidelity, and in this conversation with Kurtis Parks, Carl talks about what the years since have actually required. He opens by naming what Instagram never showed: a church that was "way bigger than us," led by a man who "had some serious cracks everywhere." The difference, he says, is what you do with them. "There's a couple deep in my soul that I made a decision to ignore and to overlook and to allow to fester. And eventually that leads to extraordinary pain." His summary is blunt: "When you let sin do what it does unchecked, the collateral damage is severe." Carl rejects the idea that fame changes people. "Fame isn't really the thing that changes anybody. It just is a big spotlight, exposes who you've always been." He adds that the claim is always made by someone who has never had influence. On gifting he's equally direct — charisma "functions in sin, out of sin, good, bad," and what sits underneath it is what needs care. His warning to leaders: handle the things you don't want to handle, because eventually they will handle you. He talks about preaching from open wounds rather than scars, and about refusing to live in shame over what he did. "We can't curate our testimony. So if I'm gonna stand on my testimony that Jesus is the redeemer and he's the God that can lift every head, well, I gotta do it now too." He describes the discipline of holding one story about himself instead of three: "I'm healing, God's redeeming. I can do nothing about the past. I can do everything about the right now and where I'm headed." He also takes apart the label that follows him. "God is the one that gives grace. We can destroy our reputation, our platform, but grace is a gift from God given without merit. You can't fall from grace." On critics he's unbothered — "I'm not in that courtroom, brother" — though he's careful to add, "I definitely care about what people think. Anybody who says otherwise, I don't trust them. It's how I care." The back half is practical. On telling their children, the hardest chapter to write: "As the guy who started the party, you can't leave when the songs get a little bit uncomfortable. You gotta dance through it all." On marriage: "Marriage is beautiful. It's not hard. We make it hard" — and most contention, he says, traces to somebody not sharing a thought or a feeling until the distance stacks up. On doing it alone he's emphatic that it can't be done, and offers to celebrate anyone who proves him wrong. And on accountability culture in the church, he walks through a checkbox conversation and shows how easily he used to pass: "You know how to lie too." Honesty is the goal. Accountability is only what helps you keep it. "Accountability is not the goal. Honesty is the goal. Accountability is what helps you maintain honesty." — Carl Lentz IN THIS EPISODE The cracks were always there. Carl describes a church that was "way bigger than us" led by a man with "serious cracks everywhere" — and says the difference between leaders isn't whether they have them, but what they do with them. Fame is a spotlight, not a solvent. "It just is a big spotlight, exposes who you've always been." Charisma is morally neutral. "That functions in sin, out of sin, good, bad. It's the stuff that the charisma's under that requires extraordinary care." Preaching from open wounds. He distinguishes scars from open wounds, and admits he was doing the second while believing he was doing the first. The disgrace argument. "You can't disgrace another person. God is the one that gives grace." One story instead of three. "If I believe a different story, my kids lose again. Laura loses again." Gratitude on the calendar. "There's a two-minute break right there at twelve thirty to be grateful." Accountability culture doesn't work on its own. "You know how to lie too." CHAPTERS 00:00 Welcome01:14 What Instagram Never Showed03:34 Why They Wrote The Book04:58 Charisma And Responsibility08:40 Preaching From Open Wounds12:51 The One True Story15:07 You Cannot Fall From Grace25:07 Victim Or Builder32:38 Telling The Kids40:02 Honesty Over Accountability ABOUT CARL AND LAURA LENTZ Carl and Laura Lentz are the authors of Overcoming Infidelity: 10 Conversations to Help You Heal the Hurt (Simon & Schuster), written in alternating chapters so that both the partner who committed the infidelity and the partner who experienced the betrayal are heard in their own voice. For years they led Hillsong NYC. Today Carl works as a church consultant and coach helping people reclaim their identity after marital failure, addiction, and other personal crises, and Laura works as a coach helping women heal from betrayal, rebuild trust, and find their voice. They co-host the Lights On podcast and live in Tulsa, Oklahoma with their three children. LINKS Carl Lentz on Instagram — https://www.instagram.com/carllentz/Laura Lentz on Instagram — https://www.instagram.com/lauralentzCarl Lentz on Facebook — https://www.facebook.com/CarlLentz4/Lights On podcast — https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/lights-on-with-carl-lentz/id1747789103Lights On on YouTube — https://www.youtube.com/@lightsonwithcarllentz SPONSOR This episode is brought to you by Planning Center: the all-in-one software to help your church schedule volunteers, plan services, and stay organized. Start free, no credit card required. https://www.planningcenter.com/?utm_source=worshipleader&utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=the_walk&utm_content=episode_194_carl_and_laura_lentz Discover more Christian podcasts at lifeaudio.com and inquire about advertising opportunities at lifeaudio.com/contact-us.

    Carl and Laura Lentz: What It Took to Put It Back Together
  2. 6d ago

    Danny Gokey: Jesus Over Politics, Country, and Everything

    Danny Gokey did this interview from his car, minutes after walking out of a recording session, and apologized twice for the signal. It's a fitting entrance for someone who tells Kurtis later in the episode that he almost never cancels anything. He's in a new season professionally. After a first post-Idol deal that fell apart, he was dropped, and remembers thinking that if you can't make it off American Idol, maybe you can't make it at all. He signed elsewhere and had a good run, then Capitol, and is now with Red Street Records. He repeats what the label head told his manager back then, apparently without irony: I don't know why I'm signing Danny Gokey, but I believe I'm supposed to. Please don't make me lose money. He says he's got a lot of new music coming, and that this batch feels like the best work he's done. The reason why leads to the best story in the first act. On American Idol he sang whatever got a reaction, the growl, the gravel, the Michael McDonald and Michael Bolton textures, because that's what drew applause. Then he was in a studio with producer Bernie Herms, who stopped him mid-vocal and said that would sound great if he were Michael Bolton, but he wanted to know what Danny Gokey sounded like. Danny was thirty-three, and says nobody had ever asked him that. That question started the work of finding his own voice, and he credits the years since with turning experience into something like mastery. Then the conversation goes where you'd expect it to and doesn't flinch. Talking about his single "Jesus Over Everything," co-written with DOE, Danny says Jesus brought meaning to losing his first wife, Sophia, to the show, to remarrying. He walks through Joseph and Job to make the point: what makes suffering survivable isn't an explanation, it's God being in it. When Kurtis asks how he actually walked through it, Danny is direct. He had faith God would heal Sophia. It went the opposite direction, and it turned into a funeral. He was angry at God, and he says a lot of it was ignorance and assumption, that God had abandoned him. He lands on John 6, where the hard teaching drives the crowd away and Jesus asks the twelve whether they'll leave too, and Peter says where else could we go. That, Danny says, is where he was: mad, and staying. He warns about the thing he thinks does the real damage, assigning your own meaning to loss. This must mean I'm unlovable. This must mean God won't save me. Once you attach a meaning that came out of your own hurt, you miss what's actually happening. The hope section is worth the episode for worship leaders. Danny points to studies on hope, to Romans 15:13, and offers a picture he clearly uses a lot: faith is the engine, hope is the gasoline. Hope is a vision, but internal rather than external, and it's what lets you see a better day before there's any evidence of one. He describes losing Sophia as feeling like an amputation of the soul, and says hope was the thing that kept him moving through it. He also connects belief and hope tightly: your core beliefs drive whether you're hopeful or hopeless, and wrong beliefs bring wrong emotions. He includes himself in that. He's been in hopeless places, believed wrong things, and says he's responsible for his beliefs, decisions, actions, reactions and feelings, which he notes is not what our culture teaches. The middle of the episode is warmer. His parents made him sing, and he didn't want to. He remembers being twelve in the back seat, hearing his dad lean over to his mom and say your son's got a good voice, and being genuinely surprised. His first solo was at a water park karaoke stand, "Tutti Frutti," a scrawny kid with a growl, a crowd, high fives, and then straight into the wave pool. A youth pastor pushed him toward singing, and years later a pastor told him he was leading worship that day, to which Danny said no I'm not, and was overruled. That leads to fatherhood, and the most quotable stretch of the conversation. His kids are thirteen and seven. He says the thing he'd tell a new dad is to model what you say, because kids see the frustrations and the interactions whether you intend them to or not. He's honest that touring cost him moments he wishes he had back. Then the framing: everyone is waiting for the macro moment, the career break, the money, the family unity, and nobody watches the micro moments, even though every decision is a micro moment that creates the macro one. Kurtis brings up The Liturgy of the Ordinary, and Danny takes it further: the ordinary is where you'll spend the most time, so it's where it counts. There are good road stories too. In Richmond he got second and third degree burns on his leg an hour before a show when he knocked over a steamer, went to the ER, got the doctors to move him because twelve hundred people were waiting, and did the show an hour late, on pain pills, doing the choreography from a chair. He also describes a bout of vertigo this year severe enough that he feared something worse, and says the only thing he's cancelled all year was an eyewear expo his company had put $80,000 into, because he was on the freeway when the spinning started. The eyewear line, incidentally, came from Idol: everyone else had tattoos and cool hair, and he had glasses, so he bought a bunch of pairs and changed them every performance. He closes on what he actually cares about now. He still leads worship at The Belonging Co, and says the new album leans more worship-heavy than anything he's done. His heart is the gospel, plainly: heaven and hell, the harvest is plenty and the laborers are few. He tells his wife's story. She didn't grow up in church, went to a service at twenty-one on the way to the club, understood one line of the invitation, prayed, went to the club anyway, and never stopped going back to church. She struggled afterward with why nobody had told her sooner. That became a song called "Tell Somebody," and a podcast he's building under the same name, alongside a ministry project called Hope Hill. And when Kurtis asks how to actually be bold about it, Danny gives a one-line answer that doubles as a masterclass. He gets in an Uber and asks: do you go to church? That's it. It opens every time. "Most people perish in their comfort zone." - Danny Gokey ABOUT DANNY GOKEY Danny Gokey is a three-time GRAMMY nominee and Dove Award winner who first reached a national audience as a Top 3 finalist on Season 8 of American Idol. A former church worship director, he built one of the most durable careers in contemporary Christian music on the back of chart-topping songs including "Hope in Front of Me," "Tell Your Heart to Beat Again," "Haven't Seen It Yet" and "Rise." He has toured for a decade alongside Natalie Grant at Christmas, leads worship at The Belonging Co in Nashville, and runs his own eyewear line. Now signed to Red Street Records, he released the single "Jesus Over Everything," co-written with DOE, in 2026, with more new music on the way. He is also developing a podcast called Tell Somebody and a ministry project called Hope Hill. IN THIS EPISODE The label head who signed him and said please don't make me lose moneyBernie Herms asking a thirty-three-year-old Danny what his own voice sounded likeWhy "Jesus Over Everything" is about Joseph, Job, and meaning rather than explanationFaith he had that God would heal Sophia, and what happened when it went the other wayJohn 6, Peter's answer, and staying angry without leavingWhy assigning your own meaning to a loss makes you miss what's actually happeningFaith as the engine and hope as the gasolineRomans 15:13 and what it means that God holds your hopeBeing twelve in the back seat and hearing his dad say he had a good voice"Tutti Frutti" at a water park karaoke stand, and straight into the wave poolMicro moments, macro moments, and what he'd tell a new dadSecond and third degree burns an hour before a show, and doing it from a chairWhere the eyewear line actually came fromHis wife's story, the song "Tell Somebody," and the one question he asks in every Uber LINKS Danny Gokey: https://dannygokey.comJesus Over Everything: https://ffm.to/jesusovereverythingJesus Over Everything (official video): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f0vmq4ZV_E4Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/track/3CmSJA1TslbtlScrR9ZAfKFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/DannyGokeyOfficial/Red Street Records: https://www.redstreetrecords.com/Kurtis Parks: https://www.kurtisparks.comWorship Leader: https://worshipleader.com SPONSOR This episode is brought to you by Planning Center, the all-in-one software that helps your church schedule volunteers, plan services, and stay organized. Start free, no credit card required: https://www.planningcenter.com/?utm_source=worshipleader&utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=the_walk&utm_content=episode_194_danny_gokey Discover more Christian podcasts at lifeaudio.com and inquire about advertising opportunities at lifeaudio.com/contact-us.

    Danny Gokey: Jesus Over Politics, Country, and Everything
  3. Oct 21

    Michael Sarver: Shame Is the Number One Battle of My Life

    Michael Sarver moved to Nashville in February after a lifetime in Louisiana and East Texas, and the conversation opens the way conversations with new transplants do, with gumbo, hot chicken, and the strange feeling of no longer needing to book a flight home. Then it goes somewhere else entirely. He grew up Pentecostal, and jokes that the first place he went after the hospital might literally have been church. Music was around him constantly: live drums, real instruments, a choir he loved. But it didn't become his until he was eleven. His mother had remarried, and what looked like a good thing became an abusive one. Michael describes running to his room and turning music on, and finding that it shifted the atmosphere and shifted his spirit when he was frightened and in pain. That's when he learned music was more than a sound. Not long after they got out of that situation, he auditioned for a church choir with a minimum age of thirteen or fourteen, and got in at eleven. His first time leading was a Larnelle Harris song with what he remembers as about fifty key changes, and he says that was the day it went from wanting to do this to knowing it was his. At fourteen he wrote his first song, "Broken Pieces," the night before a Sunday special he'd already picked a Phillips, Craig and Dean song for. He credits Steven Curtis Chapman as the reason he writes at all, someone taking the noise in his head and putting it on paper. He's written over 3,800 songs since. While other kids played football, he went straight home and taught himself to sing like Michael English and the guys from Avalon, always finding somebody stronger and pushing until he could do what they could do. He's candid about the rest of it: legal trouble as a late teen, being bullied for years over his religion and for how little his family had, and real church hurt. He calls religion a poison that almost destroyed his faith. When his sister invited him to a church in Jasper, Texas, he sat there judging the pastor's wife for wearing makeup and the women for wearing pants, and recognized he was doing to those people exactly what had been done to him. What broke it was a worship rehearsal. The presence of God showed up in a room full of people who wore makeup and cut their hair and grew beards, and it undid the framework he'd been handed. That church is also where he met his wife, though not the way you'd guess: the man who kept shaking his hand every week and telling him somebody noticed him today, the one Michael found mildly annoying, turned out to be his future father-in-law. American Idol happened almost by accident. He drove twenty-plus hours across Texas to Arizona to support his sister-in-law's audition, and made it himself. He went back to the oil rig between rounds, sweating it out and waiting for the next call. What he thinks made the difference was worship leading. On group night, when everyone around him fell apart, he was the one feeding lines and holding it together, because that's what he'd trained to do on a platform. He also had something most contestants didn't: he didn't need the show. He had a wife, two kids, a church he loved and good money on the rig. When producers went looking for the story about his dad leaving when he was two, he told them that wasn't a tree they were climbing today. He finished in the top ten of Season 8, and speaks warmly about Danny Gokey, who he says held him up during it. Then the part he doesn't soften. He signed with Dream Records and went country, because everyone said country, the accent, the size, the Texas of it all. He explains it as a branding decision, sound and image as two brands that have to marry. And he says plainly that it was the wrong one. Not a detour God used, not a season of preparation. He says he liked being famous, chased what he thought would bring the most credit, and left his actual purpose behind. Around six years ago, right as COVID cancelled everyone's tours, he stopped. He gave back a large signing bonus, walked away from a deal, and spent his energy winning back a family he'd nearly lost and a wife he says he wasn't the man she deserved. The restoration came slowly and through a local church, where he had no desire to sing and got asked anyway, ended up as worship pastor, and learned to tell someone kindly that singing isn't their gift. He says the shepherding changed his character more than the music did. Around year four he wrote a song called "Layers," about looking back through every layer of his life and seeing that God was already there before he ever asked Him to show up. He didn't think it was a worship song, and he started praying about why he'd written it. That song is the seed of both EPs. He deliberately broke the rule about a cohesive body of work, because being true to layers meant being true to every style that shaped him. "Storms Don't Bother Me" is up and encouraging. "Fire" is a nod to the old gospel sound he grew up on. "Limitless" is built on the prodigal son but is actually about his own son, who went through a short season where it looked like he was walking away. Michael and his wife chose not to say I told you so. He asked one question, do you want to go home, and his son said yes, and that was the end of it. His son gave his blessing to tell it. He ties it to the limitless love of a father, natural and heavenly, and to the thing he calls his number one battle: shame. The two EPs are seven songs each, which he chose on purpose. Layer One released August 21 and Layer Two follows on September 25. "I actually made the wrong decision because I liked being famous." - Michael Sarver ABOUT MICHAEL SARVER Michael Sarver is a singer/songwriter and worship leader who was a Top 10 finalist on Season 8 of American Idol, going from the oil fields of East Texas to a national stage. He released multiple country singles and toured nationally before stepping away to serve as a church worship leader. He made his Christian music debut in 2025 with "Warrior," followed by "Victory Song," "All I Need," and the 2026 singles "Wonderful God," "Count It All Joy," "More Like You" and "Limitless." His seven-song EP Layer One released August 21, 2026 on S&G Music Enterprises, distributed by WieRise Music, with Layer Two following September 25. He has written more than 3,800 songs and now lives in Nashville with his wife and family. IN THIS EPISODE The year music stopped being background and became the safest place in his houseAuditioning for a church choir two years under the minimum age, and getting inWriting "Broken Pieces" at fourteen, the night before a Sunday specialSteven Curtis Chapman, Michael English, Avalon, and 3,800 songs laterChurch hurt, and catching himself judging people the way he'd been judgedThe worship rehearsal that dismantled what he'd been taughtThe man at church who wouldn't leave him alone, and who he turned out to beDriving twenty hours to support someone else's audition and making the show himselfGoing back to the oil rig between rounds of American IdolWhy worship leading is what carried him through group nightWhy he calls the country years the wrong decision, in his own wordsGiving back a signing bonus to go win his family back"Layers," and the realization that God was already in the room"Limitless," his son, and the only question he asked him LINKS Michael Sarver: https://michaelsarvermusic.comLayer One: https://ffm.to/wmzbj1jYouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@MichaelSarverOfficialWieRok Entertainment Group: https://wierok.com/Kurtis Parks: https://www.kurtisparks.comWorship Leader: https://worshipleader.com SPONSOR This episode is brought to you by Planning Center, the all-in-one software that helps your church schedule volunteers, plan services, and stay organized. Start free, no credit card required: https://www.planningcenter.com/?utm_source=worshipleader&utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=the_walk&utm_content=episode_193_michael_sarver Discover more Christian podcasts at lifeaudio.com and inquire about advertising opportunities at lifeaudio.com/contact-us.

    Michael Sarver: Shame Is the Number One Battle of My Life
  4. Oct 14

    Red Rocks Worship: Why Worship Leaders Leave Too Soon

    Tyler Roberts has been at Red Rocks Church for sixteen years, which in worship ministry terms makes him an elder statesman. He says so himself: everything looks the same, but everybody keeps getting younger, which can only mean one thing. Red Rocks started in 2005 with a plain goal, to be a youth group for adults, and a tagline they still use: make heaven more crowded. Tyler's arrival in 2010 tells you what the early days felt like. The church met in a rented red barn at the back of a theme park, a quarter-mile walk from the parking lot, with a wedding chapel on one side and a haunted house on the other. He auditioned on Halloween, singing "Our God," with a miniature train going by outside and a man in a Jason mask running around with a chainsaw while girls screamed. That was a normal Sunday. The origin of Red Rocks Worship is less glamorous than people assume, and better for it. When the church went multi-site around 2011, there were suddenly two campuses, two worship teams, and nobody really in charge. Tyler is candid that they handled it badly at first. The fix was a question: what if we prayed together and wrote songs together? They started meeting Fridays at 8:30, praying for half an hour, then writing, on the theory that a song all of them liked could be sung at both campuses. The songs were mostly not good, he says, and he advises against going back to listen. What happened next was an accident. Around 2013 the staff wanted to record a Sunday-after-Christmas special called Holiday Hangover so nobody had to come in that weekend. Leadership asked whether the worship team had any songs, didn't much care what they were, and recorded them. Weeks before it aired, someone asked whether they could put it on iTunes. For one day only, the Rooftop EP was the number one Christian and gospel EP there, because the whole church downloaded it. Then those songs came back around on the weekend and the church already knew them. They had become the congregation's songs. Tyler's picture of a Red Rocks Sunday is worth the episode for worship pastors. They like to throw good parties, and they describe themselves as a front porch for prodigals, taking the father in the parable literally: he threw a party the moment the son came home. So song one is loud and full of energy, songs two and three go upward into high praise, the message lands, the response time leans into songs like "The Lord Is With Me," and then they send people out. We're not here to just play church and have a big audience, he says. We're an army. He walks through the multi-site structure in useful detail. Every campus has a worship pastor who sits on the campus staff, reports to the campus pastor, and dotted-lines to central. Those pastors own resourcing, developing, recruiting and pastoring their teams; central supplies the set lists, the Ableton sessions and the creative. Brussels, now ten years old, has grown into its own thing. He's honest that they've failed more than they've gotten it right, and have tried to fail forward. On set lists, the rule is at least fifty percent Red Rocks songs, sometimes seventy-five, sometimes all of it. They write to fill gaps in their own church, and right now the gap is song ones. When they bring in an outside song, it usually comes out of the message. Then Kurtis asks the question every church that releases music wants answered: why do your people actually sing your songs? Tyler refuses to give a formula, and says plainly that what the Lord chooses to breathe on is what He chooses to breathe on. But he does explain "The Lord Is With Me." Pastor Shawn Johnson learned a few years ago that he has a rare form of Parkinson's disease, and asked the team for a song to go alongside a book he was writing about it, something people could anchor to in the hardest season of their lives. They wrote it, the church preached a series on it, and suddenly everyone's story was connected to one anthem. Tyler says he doesn't even have to set it up anymore. That leads into the strongest charge in the hour. When the team writes, they're in the lobbies, down front at the end of service, in Thursday morning prayer watching their own people's names scroll on a screen. And they're in Scripture, which Tyler says too many worship leaders neglect. He isn't talking about charisma or being able to sense and shift a room. He's talking about a depth you can't gain, weren't born with, and aren't talented enough to supersede, and he includes his own dry seasons in the indictment. The record is called Promised Land, and the title came out of the worst six weeks of his recent life. The church forced him to take a sabbatical, which he'd never done and isn't good at. Two weeks in he was going crazy, sitting on his bed while his wife was at work and his kids ran wild, telling God that this gift didn't feel like a gift. What he found underneath was that his identity was wrapped in what he did, that he needed the validation and the affirmation, that he had to be doing things to feel like enough. The answer he got back: the promised land isn't on the other side, or in the standing ovation, or in the approval he'd been chasing from certain people. It's the presence of God, which he can't outrun, because Jesus already did the work. Then, as it happened, they recorded at Red Rocks Amphitheatre, which Tyler is careful to say is not the promised land. But twenty years earlier, Pastor Shawn and some of the founders stood at the top of those same rocks, looking out over Denver, crying, asking people to give to a church that didn't exist yet. There's video of it. Ten thousand people came, nearly all of them their own church, sold out, on a November night that should have been snowing and somehow wasn't. Production ran three hours behind on lighting so there was no real soundcheck. They went full send and hoped God would be in it, and He was. At one point they cut the band and let ten thousand voices carry "The Lord Is With Me." He closes on faithfulness. A mentor once told him deep roots grow great fruit, and you can't grow deep roots if you keep getting ripped up and replanted. Every move is traumatic; the plant spends its energy finding water again instead of bearing fruit. He's clear that God does call people out, and that some people are called to a place while others are called through one. But if you're on the fence, don't take a step until you hear clearly, and the way he's known it wasn't time was never an audible voice, just the absence of peace. Jesus is the Prince of Peace, so follow peace. Tyler left a dream job, a full-ride scholarship, his family and a house he'd just bought to come to Denver. None of it made sense on paper. He's felt no peace to leave since. "Some people are called to a place and some people are called through a place." - Tyler Roberts ABOUT TYLER ROBERTS Tyler Roberts is worship division director at Red Rocks Church in Denver, Colorado, where he has served for sixteen years and helps oversee both the church's campus worship teams and Red Rocks Worship, the church's recording collective. Founded in 2005 with the vision of making heaven more crowded, Red Rocks Church now spans four Denver-area campuses with a fifth on the way, plus locations in Austin, Texas, and Brussels, Belgium, and prison campuses in Colorado. Red Rocks Worship has released songs sung in churches worldwide, including "Good Plans," "Living God," "Never Gets Old" and "The Lord Is With Me." Their live album Promised Land was recorded at Red Rocks Amphitheatre in November 2025 during the church's twentieth anniversary celebration, and released in 2026 on Provident Entertainment. IN THIS EPISODE A church that met in a rented red barn at the back of a theme parkAuditioning on Halloween with a man in a Jason mask outside holding a chainsawFriday mornings at 8:30, praying first and then writing songs to stay unifiedHow the Holiday Hangover special accidentally produced a number one iTunes EPA front porch for prodigals, and why the father threw a partyHow the multi-site worship structure actually works, campus by campusThe fifty percent rule for set lists, and writing to fill their own gapsThe story behind "The Lord Is With Me" and Pastor Shawn's diagnosisWhy he thinks worship leaders are neglecting the one thing they can't fakeThe forced sabbatical, and what he found underneath his need to achieveTen thousand voices at Red Rocks Amphitheatre, with no real soundcheckDeep roots grow great fruit, and why replanting yourself is traumaticCalled to a place versus called through a placeWhy they released multiple versions of one song, and the key change that fixed it LINKS Red Rocks Worship: https://www.redrocksworship.comRed Rocks Church: https://www.redrockschurch.comRed Rocks Worship on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@redrocksworshipRed Rocks Worship on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/redrocksworshipKurtis Parks: https://www.kurtisparks.comWorship Leader: https://worshipleader.com SPONSOR This episode is brought to you by Planning Center, the all-in-one software that helps your church schedule volunteers, plan services, and stay organized. Start free, no credit card required: https://www.planningcenter.com/?utm_source=worshipleader&utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=the_walk&utm_content=episode_192_tyler_roberts Discover more Christian podcasts at lifeaudio.com and inquire about advertising opportunities at lifeaudio.com/contact-us.

    Red Rocks Worship: Why Worship Leaders Leave Too Soon
  5. Oct 6

    Jordan St. Cyr: I Wrote Fires Before I Walked Through One

    Jordan St. Cyr grew up in Niverville, Manitoba, a town of about 1,200 people with six churches in it. He says a place that small keeps people's radar for what's fake and what's real very keen, and that's why his music has to be honest, conversational, almost blue collar. His dad was the worship pastor. His mom worked in children's ministry. There was never a dramatic conversion moment, just a home where it was obvious Christ was the center of everything. The first word he heard his dad use for God was loving heavenly father, which lands differently once you know his dad grew up without one. Jordan compares his own faith to marriage: he and his wife will hit nineteen years this year, and looking back he thinks, you idiot, you had no idea what that yes meant. He expects to think the same thing at forty years. Jesus got his heart as a five or six year old and keeps getting his yes daily. He was the athlete first, not the singer. That ended around fifteen or sixteen when he found himself batting against a six-foot-three pitcher and decided he was done. A buddy talked him into auditioning for the school's Wizard of Oz, mostly because there were girls there, and that same friend brought a guitar to rehearsals. Jordan picked it up and never put it down. When he sang at the church Christmas play, his parents were sitting in the back row and had no idea he could sing. Then comes the part that reframes everything. Jordan wrote "Fires" during a season of songwriting camps, after a year of country conferences convinced him he needed to say the name of Jesus in his work. Nobody bit on the song. He was too old, he says, and his numbers weren't high enough. His radio promoters initially turned him down because they didn't want to take food off the table of a guy with four kids. He put the money aside himself and released it independently on Easter weekend of 2020, which he calls about the worst financial bet an artist could make. It became a hit. And it was written six months before the birth of his youngest daughter, Emery, who was born with a rare brain condition. He used to feel guilty that a song about fires hadn't come out of his own experience. He now believes God gave it to him for his experience. Emery has been four years seizure free. On songwriting and style, Jordan credits the town he spent decades trying to escape, and the twenty years of construction work he cursed more than once. He describes his upbringing as a safe harbor and a diving board, and says of his parents, who came out of a lot of trauma and moved to a small town to recalibrate the family, that he got to spend what they saved up. Kurtis stops him mid-sentence and tells him to write it down, which he does, live on the call. The two new singles get their turn. "Wild Love" is about the pursuit of God, and Jordan explains why wild is the right word: when you're in your sin nature and your shame, the love of God is foreign, otherworldly, something that pierces the veil rather than something you solve your way into. He follows it to a striking place, saying it's practically a prerequisite to be a screw-up, because no perfect people are allowed. He grew up as the churchgoing brother with brothers who partied, and credits his parents with threading the needle of not accepting bad behavior while never affirming self-righteousness in him. His own posture now: your sin doesn't bother me, because I've got enough of my own. "The Storyteller Man" is his upbringing set to music, right down to the green Dodge Monaco with the rear-facing seat, a detail he confirmed by calling his dad mid-write. The song name-checks Billy Joel, Elton John, Bruce Springsteen and Bob Dylan as the world's best storytellers, and then points past all of them. As Jordan puts it, people call him the storyteller man, and he isn't. He's a storyteller telling you about the greatest one. He closes on working with producer Paul Mabury, which he describes as terrifying, and on what it taught him: anything good is low and slow, like a good brisket. A full record follows next year, plus a Christmas project aimed at candlelight-service intimacy rather than big production. And what he most wants right now has nothing to do with music. He wants a Habitat for Humanity day so he can go swing a hammer, and maybe to sing at an old folks' home. It doesn't need to be on camera. It can be held sacred. "The hard things of this life are the greatest teachers." - Jordan St. Cyr ABOUT JORDAN ST. CYR Jordan St. Cyr is a Juno Award-winning artist, songwriter and storyteller from Niverville, Manitoba, now based in Nashville. His breakthrough single "Fires" spent 45 weeks on the Billboard Christian Airplay chart and reached the Top 5, followed by his multi-week No. 1 hit "Weary Traveler." He is a 16-time GMA Covenant Award winner and won the 2023 Juno for Contemporary Christian/Gospel Album of the Year. He spent two decades in construction before music became his full-time work. Signed to BEC Recordings, he released "The Storyteller Man" and "Wild Love" in 2026, both produced by Paul Mabury, ahead of a full album. He and his wife Heather have four children. IN THIS EPISODE What a Manitoba town of 1,200 taught him about telling the truth in a songHis dad, who grew up without a father, teaching him to call God a loving heavenly fatherQuitting sports at sixteen, auditioning for the Wizard of Oz, and picking up a guitar he never put downPlaying dive bars in Winnipeg at midnight and leading worship at 7 a.m.Being told he was too old with numbers too low, and releasing "Fires" independently anywayWriting "Fires" six months before Emery was born, and the guilt he carried about thatWhy he says the love of God is wild, and why being a screw-up is close to a prerequisite"I get to spend what they saved up," written down live on the callThe Dodge Monaco, four legendary storytellers, and the one the song is actually aboutWhy anything good is low and slow LINKS Jordan St. Cyr: https://www.jordanstcyr.comWild Love: https://jordan.ffm.to/wildloveThe Storyteller Man: https://jordan.ffm.to/storytellerEvery Reason To Believe: https://jordan.ffm.to/everyreasonHands To The Sky: https://jordan.ffm.to/handsPray For You: https://jordan.ffm.to/prayforyouMy Foundation (album): https://jordan.ffm.to/myfoundationMerch: https://jordanstcyrmerch.myshopify.comBEC Recordings: https://www.becrecordings.com/jordanstcyrInstagram: http://instagram.com/jordanstcyrFacebook: http://facebook.com/jordanstcyrmusicTikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@jordanstcyrYouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCbR1q9f7-C1itmIVpE9nHLwSpotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/4RbkVdTJEHZEfppvxBD6IlApple Music: https://music.apple.com/us/artist/jordan-st-cyr/441238969Kurtis Parks: https://www.kurtisparks.comWorship Leader: https://worshipleader.com SPONSOR This episode is brought to you by Planning Center, the all-in-one software that helps your church schedule volunteers, plan services, and stay organized. Start free, no credit card required: https://www.planningcenter.com/?utm_source=worshipleader&utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=the_walk&utm_content=episode_191_jordan_st_cyr Discover more Christian podcasts at lifeaudio.com and inquire about advertising opportunities at lifeaudio.com/contact-us.

    Jordan St. Cyr: I Wrote Fires Before I Walked Through One
  6. Sep 30

    Orlando Palmer: The Prosperity Gospel Has No Room for Pain

    Orlando Palmer records as IAMSON, produces, writes for other people, and is married to the gospel artist DOE. He and Kurtis start where you'd expect, on what it's actually like when two artists share a house. His answer is more interesting than the question: when they're commissioned to write professionally, it snaps on immediately, because both of them were raised in this and know how to work a room. At home, safe and comfortable, it takes much longer. DOE runs lyrics past him for a theological read, and he says he's grateful she trusts him with that. He also admits that before they ever spoke, he critiqued a cover she'd done of one of his songs. They still talk about it. Asked which part of the work makes him come alive right now, he doesn't pick the one he's best at. He picks performing live, because it's the thing he needs to grow in. He's been drilling keyboard sounds and breath control and learning material to the point where he isn't thinking about the piano while he's singing. The goal, as he puts it, is to practice enough that you can be present to the audience. The center of the conversation is mental health, and Orlando doesn't soften it. He names the prosperity gospel as the thing that ruins it: a framework where praying a specific prayer is supposed to produce an immediate result, with no process and no theology of suffering. He calls that especially damaging in the mental health conversation. When he writes about anxiety, he's writing with specific people in mind, his parents' generation, for whom it was even more taboo and who may not have had or sought resources; men who need permission to be soft and vulnerable and to feel their emotions; his own cousins, and Black men raised in environments where the only available responses were violence or argument. His summary of the whole project is one line: it's all about giving people language. He traces where the songs come from, and it isn't a strategy. God gave him a passion for the piano and for words, and he started writing because he needed the songs himself. Then something clicked and it became a love for the church too. He talks about ADHD not as an obstacle but as the shape of how he was made. He'll read a book and stop after chapter four, not from boredom but because he's overwhelmed with information and needs time to process. What he's landed on fairly recently is that he doesn't have to become an academic theologian to be useful. Romans 7 means more to him because he expressed it through music. That's how he prays, and it's enough. The theological heart of the episode arrives when Kurtis asks how he'd write about the cross. Orlando says he'd go straight at the humanity of Christ, and try to get inside where Jesus actually was in that moment. That opens into the best exchange of the hour. Most Christians, he says, hear the question as striving upward to get to where God is. But the point of the incarnation runs the other direction. He descended so that we could be known. Once that lands, there's safety, and from that safety he can behold mercy and kindness and grace. Then the weight. Orlando says he's been thinking about the weight of God's glory, precisely because he knows the weight of depression and darkness. He's careful about the claim: it isn't that the presence of God removes everything, it's that there's something weightier there, something more transcendent than his own comfort. Sometimes it's just bread for today, a reminder that it's going to be okay. Kurtis takes it to Isaiah's exchange of heaviness for a garment of praise, and Orlando lands it as a warm blanket that covers you. The last stretch is about tradition. Orlando was recently on staff at an Anglican church, and he says it formed him more as a Christian than any other experience: access to the history of the faith, the church fathers, the hymnody. Be Thou My Vision will make him cry. Be Still My Soul, It Is Well, 'Tis So Sweet. What it gave him was scale. He doesn't have to be innovative or be the superhero. He gets to be part of a great cloud of witnesses that was there before him and will be there after. His encouragement to anyone worried about the state of the church: there's nothing new, and we have access to the stories of God's faithfulness and to the mistakes, so we don't have to make them again. He closes on his album, which is called Forgetful. It starts with a traditional Pentecostal song he heard in Trinidad, "Jesus I'll Never Forget," the kind grandmothers sing. Then it turns: I can't even remember where I put my healer. Sometimes I forget that God is good. And then it comes back around, because the Holy Spirit is the one who reminds him. Even when he grows old and can't remember, the Spirit will keep him. He says it's about ninety percent done. "He descended for us to be known." - Orlando Palmer ABOUT ORLANDO PALMER Orlando Palmer is a songwriter, producer and artist who records under the name IAMSON. The child of pastors, he was accompanying choirs on piano by age ten and later studied songwriting at Berklee College of Music. His music sits deliberately at the intersection of faith and mental health, with songs like "Slow Down" and "Always With Me" written to give people language for anxiety and for being present. His production and songwriting credits include the worship collective Urban Doxology and The Porter's Gate, and he has collaborated with artists including Audrey Assad, Josh Garrels and United Pursuit. He most recently served on staff at an Anglican church, and now lives in Nashville with his wife, the gospel artist DOE, after years based in Richmond, Virginia. His album Forgetful is on the way. IN THIS EPISODE Two artists in one house, and why the professional switch flips faster than the home oneThe critique he gave her music before they'd ever spokenWhy he's chasing live performance right now: it's the thing he's not best atThe prosperity gospel, and a framework with no process and no theology of sufferingWho he pictures when he writes about anxiety, including his parents' generation and his cousins"It's all about giving people language"Stopping a book at chapter four, and why that isn't boredomRomans 7 mattering more because he put it in a songThe incarnation as descent: we are the ones being knownThe weight of glory measured against the weight of depressionWhat an Anglican church staff job gave a Pentecostal-raised songwriterBe Thou My Vision, and hymns as a songwriter's libraryForgetful, and a song his grandmother's generation sang in Trinidad LINKS IAMSON (Orlando Palmer): https://www.iamsonmusic.comInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/iamsonmusic/Apple Music: https://music.apple.com/us/artist/orlando-palmer/1064294957Worshipology: https://www.worshipologybook.comKurtis Parks: https://www.kurtisparks.comWorship Leader: https://worshipleader.com SPONSOR This episode is brought to you by Planning Center, the all-in-one software that helps your church schedule volunteers, plan services, and stay organized. Start free, no credit card required: https://www.planningcenter.com/?utm_source=worshipleader&utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=the_walk&utm_content=episode_189_orlando_palmer Discover more Christian podcasts at lifeaudio.com and inquire about advertising opportunities at lifeaudio.com/contact-us.

    Orlando Palmer: The Prosperity Gospel Has No Room for Pain
  7. Sep 23

    Natalie Layne: Writer's Block Is Not Real

    Natalie Layne grew up in Colorado watching her parents lead worship together, her mom singing and her dad on bass, while she ran around the rehearsals singing along. Her parents never pushed piano on her. They put a little keyboard in the playroom with her toys, said nothing, and let her discover it. She decided it was the coolest toy in the house, and started lessons at three. Her grandmother, who ran a piano studio for thirty years, was her first teacher and taught her to read music, to play by ear, and to write songs. By twelve, her church was asking her to lead worship, and she spent high school leading several times a week under worship pastors including Cory Asbury, John Egan and Jared Anderson. Kurtis asks what made that mentorship work, and her answer is one worship leaders will want to hear. We tend to think discipling someone means handing them a ten-step plan and all our best nuggets. What actually shaped her was simpler: they invited her into what they were already doing. Come to the writing camp. Come sing BGVs. Sit in on this meeting. It's not as hard as we think, she says. It's just the invite. Her grandmother also gave her the first songwriting method she ever used. At ten or eleven, she was told to come back next week with a song, protested that she didn't know how, and was told to take the words of Scripture and put chords underneath them. The Psalms were meant to be songs anyway. She still writes that way, because those words don't return void. She's also firm that writer's block isn't real: you may not be able to write something good today, but you can always write something bad, and the point is to show up. When the piano runs dry she switches to guitar just to change the palette. Her sound came from the car stereo. Her mom played Christian radio; her dad, a bass player, played gospel, jazz, blues and Earth, Wind & Fire. She remembers wondering young why Christian music didn't have all those styles, and deciding that a God who contains multitudes should have all the music, and the best of it. The road to a label was not a straight one. Nashville told her it was a ten-year town, or maybe five. It took five years, almost to the day. She stayed at Belmont long enough to finish a master's in piano, and in her final year won the school's Christian showcase, where labels quietly scout. Several reached out in 2019. Then March 2020 hit and every conversation stopped, and she spent a confusing season asking why God seemed to fling doors open only to shut them. What she did with the waiting is the practical heart of the episode. She spent two years in practice rooms, started sharing verses and choruses on a new app called TikTok while she was still writing them, and let people weigh in. It turned into a giant online co-write. People started asking her to come play shows, and she built a real career with a manager and no label, reaching her one definition of success: doing music for a living. When she did sign with Centricity, about four years after that first conversation, it was to add radio and marketing to something already moving. That's also how "Grateful For" happened. She wrote it with Mitch Wong, who told her the chords she was playing sounded like gratitude. Her team thought it was fine. The internet disagreed, and it became a small thankfulness movement. Kurtis names joy as the thread through her music, and Natalie explains where it came from. Right when she signed, she felt the Lord tell her to go write a whole bunch of songs about joy. It was the first direction that specific she'd ever felt, and she connects it to the moment, with everyone carrying heartbreak after the last few years. But she's careful about what joy is. We say choose joy, and that's true, but we slide into thinking we have to manufacture it or put on a smile. Joy is a fruit of the Spirit, not of our own striving. If she wants more joy, she needs more of the Spirit. That's why the songs aren't only about joy when life is easy, but about how to have it when it's hard. The new EP, Still Running To You, pulls in more of her childhood influences, horns included, because God deserves all the instruments. She produced for the first time, explaining it as the movie director of the record, and insisted on tracking it live, nine players in one room, which she says is rare in Nashville now that most parts get sent back and forth from home studios. Asked about AI, she's measured. She doesn't think it's all evil, but she loves real music, and thinks AI is only going to make real music and live shows more precious. People have already left comments asking whether her new songs are AI. They aren't. She closes with the difference between opening for someone and headlining her own night, her band of friends she grew up with at church, three trips to Bonnaroo, and the National Hot Dog Festival, where most of the crowd was holding a hot dog or an ear of corn and still heard about Jesus. At festivals, she says, people come for the groove and end up getting Jesus in the lyric. "Joy is not a fruit of myself or my own striving." - Natalie Layne ABOUT NATALIE LAYNE Natalie Layne is a singer-songwriter, pianist, worship leader and producer from Colorado, now based in Nashville. A classically trained musician who holds a master's in piano from Belmont University, she blends the '90s Christian music she grew up on with gospel, jazz, funk and R&B. Her debut album, All Joy, produced the half-billion-impression hit "Grateful For" and a Top 10 title track that earned a K-LOVE Fan Award nomination, and Pandora named her an Artist to Watch. She has played Bonnaroo three times and toured with Chris Tomlin, Jeremy Camp, We The Kingdom, Danny Gokey, Brandon Heath and Tenth Avenue North. Her five-song EP Still Running To You, which she co-produced and recorded live with a full band, released September 9, 2026 on Centricity Music, ahead of a sophomore album due in 2027. IN THIS EPISODE The keyboard her parents hid in the toy room and let her discoverA grandmother who ran a piano studio for thirty years and taught her to write songsLeading worship at twelve under Cory Asbury, John Egan and Jared AndersonWhy mentoring is mostly just the inviteWriting songs straight from Scripture, and why writer's block isn't realWhy a God that big should have all the musicWinning the Belmont showcase, then watching every label conversation stop in March 2020Turning TikTok into a giant online co-write and building a career without a labelThe chords that sounded like gratitudeWhy joy is a fruit of the Spirit, not something you manufactureNine players in one room, and producing her first recordAI, real music, and fans asking whether her songs are realBonnaroo, the National Hot Dog Festival, and Jesus in the lyric LINKS Natalie Layne (official site and tour dates): https://www.natalielayne.comStill Running To You: https://natalielaynemusic.lnk.to/stillrunningCentricity Music: https://centricitymusic.com/artists/natalie-layne/Kurtis Parks: https://www.kurtisparks.comWorship Leader: https://worshipleader.com SPONSOR This episode is brought to you by Planning Center, the all-in-one software that helps your church schedule volunteers, plan services, and stay organized. Start free, no credit card required: https://www.planningcenter.com/?utm_source=worshipleader&utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=the_walk&utm_content=episode_188_natalie_layne Discover more Christian podcasts at lifeaudio.com and inquire about advertising opportunities at lifeaudio.com/contact-us.

    Natalie Layne: Writer's Block Is Not Real
  8. Sep 16

    Tauren Wells: Yesterday's Yes Won't Cover Today's Assignment

    Tauren Wells has four boys under fourteen, a church he planted two years ago, a book, and a live album arriving October 2. Asked how he balances it, he says he gave up on balance a long time ago. What he chases instead is rhythm and discernment about the season he's actually in. He puts it this way: he's spent stretches of his life looking like a man in a fur coat at the fireworks on the Fourth of July, doing the right thing in the wrong season. The call to plant a church came in 2006, while he was still in Bible college. What followed was seventeen years of waiting. He got married in 2011, served on staff at his in-laws' church in Houston, left his band in 2015 expecting to do music as a hobby, and then found himself on tour with Lionel Richie and Mariah Carey. He served five years at Lakewood as a pastoral worship leader. God gave him the name Whitestone in 2016 and the full vision with it, but no city. Austin came in 2022. When he asked his wife's cousin why so many things in town carried the name, he learned that Austin sits on Texas limestone, and that limestone is called white stone. Church of Whitestone launched January 28, 2024. Then Kurtis, a church planter himself, asks for the part that doesn't make the Instagram page. Tauren calls it battles and blessings. On the morning they announced the church in Georgetown, it rained all day, the radar opened for exactly two hours, and 4,000 people showed up for Good Friday. In the hotel room beforehand, one of his sons had a health scare out of nowhere. Stretch that over two years, he says, and you get a sense of it. About a year ago he came close to his first panic attack, convinced he was alone in a way no one could relate to, which he now names as a lie. On the other side of the ledger: over a thousand people have given their lives to Jesus in two years, nearly a thousand baptisms, more than a million dollars given to missions, and average attendance around 2,400 across four services. That leads into what may be the heart of the episode, the power of your yes. Tauren wrote a song that didn't make the album with the line "you have my yes, you have my here am I, Lord send me." He says it's the constant posture of a Jesus follower and you never graduate from it. Yesterday's yes doesn't cover today's assignment. And the yes usually isn't a thousand baptisms; it's forgiving the person you've been bitter toward, or having the conversation you've been avoiding. On collaboration, he traces a real shift in himself. He grew up in a culture that rewarded individual achievement, and long believed the highest statement was "I did it." He now calls that a poison to purpose, and reframes the question from "what's in it for me" to "what's in me for this." He wanted the record to be the church rather than himself, so it started with the people already around him, Whitestone worship pastor Demetri Wells and longtime collaborator Davies., both of whom moved their families to Austin, before it ever grew to include Tasha Cobbs Leonard, Israel Houghton, Naomi Raine, Paul and Hannah McClure, Abbie Gamboa, Todd Galberth, Tiffany Hudson, Hulvey and Red Rocks Worship. He also makes a point of the people you never see: God, he says, has a very deep bench. The leadership section is worth the episode on its own. Tauren preaches 30 to 36 times a year and has led worship maybe four times in two and a half years, describing himself as the church mascot and the number one worship leader on the front row. He explains why the frequency of feedback determines the health of a church, and walks through the hard power and soft power framework he credits to Erwin McManus and Rich Wilkerson Jr. Hard power is "shut out the light." Soft power gets the same result through inference and suggestion. Whitestone aims for 90% soft power, so the remaining 10% has relational equity behind it. It closes at Austin City Limits Moody Theater the night before the recording. The room went to the floor during "Bless Your Name." Tasha Cobbs Leonard was singing, Lorna began to pray and cry out in tongues, and Tauren describes it as a war cry going out from the heart of Austin. He believes God sent the Levites into one of the most creatively iconic cities in America. On the record you can hear him shouting to fill the room with the sound, then the city. "Yesterday's yes is not sufficient for today's assignment." - Tauren Wells ABOUT TAUREN WELLS Tauren Wells is a multi-platinum recording artist, bestselling author and pastor with 11 GRAMMY nominations, eight GMA Dove Awards, seven No. 1 radio hits and over 2.5 billion global streams. His RIAA-certified singles include the platinum hits "Known" and "Hills and Valleys" and gold singles "God's Not Done With You" and "Famous For (I Believe)." He has toured with Lionel Richie and Mariah Carey and collaborated across genres with artists from H.E.R. to Lecrae. In 2025 he released his debut book, Joy Bomb: Unleash Jesus's Explosive Joy for an Extraordinary Life. He and his wife Lorna are co-lead pastors of Church of Whitestone in Austin, Texas, which they launched in January 2024. His first live album, Here Comes The Church, recorded before a sold-out crowd at Austin City Limits Moody Theater, releases October 2. IN THIS EPISODE Why he gave up on balance entirely, and what he chases insteadSeventeen years between the call to plant a church and the church actually openingHow God gave him the name Whitestone in 2016 and the city six years laterThe battles nobody sees: the near panic attack, the isolation, the two years of oppositionA thousand salvations, nearly a thousand baptisms, and a million dollars to missions in two yearsWhy yesterday's yes doesn't cover today's assignment"I did it" as a poison to purpose, and the better question he asks nowHard power versus soft power, and why Whitestone runs 90 percent softThe night at Moody Theater when the whole room went to the floor LINKS Tauren Wells: https://www.taurenwells.com/Here Comes The Church (pre-order, vinyl and CD): https://store.capitolcmglabelgroup.com/collections/tauren-wellsTour dates: https://www.taurenwells.com/tour/Music: https://www.taurenwells.com/music/Joy Bomb (Zondervan): https://www.zondervan.com/p/joy-bombChurch of Whitestone: https://www.yourwhitestone.orgInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/taurenwells/Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/taurenwellsofficial/YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/user/tgwells04X: https://twitter.com/taurenwellsKurtis Parks: https://www.kurtisparks.comWorship Leader: https://worshipleader.com SPONSOR This episode is brought to you by Planning Center, the all-in-one software that helps your church schedule volunteers, plan services, and stay organized. Start free, no credit card required: https://www.planningcenter.com/?utm_source=worshipleader&utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=the_walk&utm_content=episode_187_tauren_wells Discover more Christian podcasts at lifeaudio.com and inquire about advertising opportunities at lifeaudio.com/contact-us.

    Tauren Wells: Yesterday's Yes Won't Cover Today's Assignment
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About

The Walk from Worship Leader Magazine is a podcast of real conversations with worship leaders, artists, pastors and believers, hosted by worship leader, songwriter and pastor Kurtis Parks. Each episode is about the moments when faith was tested, obedience cost something, and God showed up. Guests include Tauren Wells, Lecrae, Jenn Johnson, Matt Maher, Aaron Shust, Leanna Crawford, Ginny Owens and 150+ more. We talk about calling and surrender, worship leading and songwriting, church hurt and healing, unanswered prayer, and what it looks like to walk by faith in everyday life. Whether you lead worship every Sunday or you're just trying to follow Jesus through a hard season, The Walk is here to encourage you. Faith isn't just a moment. It's a walk, and you don't have to walk it alone. Presented by Planning Center. Show notes and more at worshipleader.com/podcast-network/the-walk

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