When Worship Feels Like the Hardest Thing You Do

Showing up, smiling, and surrendering when your heart feels heavy and the stage feels overwhelming.

Hi friends, I’m Pastor Chris, and if you’ve ever felt the tension between loving God and leading on empty, you’re in the right place. I write honest, faith-filled encouragement for real-life moments like this. Subscribe so you never miss an article, and if you’re already part of the community, consider supporting the work with a paid subscription or a one-time gift.

I’ve stood on many stages in my life. Some are small enough to trip over, others are big enough to make your knees knock a little. But I can tell you this. The stage doesn’t change a thing about the condition of your heart.

The stage can hide it if you’re not careful.

I learned that the hard way.

It was a Sunday morning, the kind of morning when nothing seemed to go right. My guitar cable was crackling, the team was off during rehearsal, and I could feel the tension in the air.

You know those mornings where worship feels more like work than worship?

But hey, we’re professionals. Smile, lead, sing the songs, flow in and out of transitions like we practiced. The lights came up, the countdown ended, and I stepped onto that stage ready to “lead people into God’s presence.”

But here’s the thing.

You can’t lead people somewhere you haven’t been.

And in that moment, I hadn’t been anywhere near the presence of God.

When You’re Leading on Empty

Let me say this for every worship leader, every Pastor, every volunteer who shows up week after week.

We get tired too.

I know I’m not supposed to say that out loud, but there it is. Some Sundays, smiling and singing is the hardest thing I do all day.

It’s not because I don’t love God. It’s not because I’m ungrateful for the opportunity to lead. It’s because I’m human.

There are days I’m wrestling with my own doubts, my own exhaustion, my own unanswered prayers, and I still step on that stage. There are days I’ve had an argument with someone I love, or I’m carrying a burden for someone in the church, and I still put the guitar strap over my shoulder and smile.

But that smile doesn’t always come easy.

And if you’ve ever led worship or any area of ministry, you know exactly what I mean.

It’s in those moments, when I’m running on empty, that I’m reminded of something I wish I had learned earlier.

Worship isn’t a stage. It’s a surrender.

David’s Example of Unfiltered Worship

David’s my guy when it comes to worship. King, warrior, songwriter, probably had a better voice than me, too, but his most defining worship moment? It wasn’t a polished performance.

It was raw. Messy. Undignified.

In 2 Samuel 6, when the Ark of the Covenant finally returned to Jerusalem, David didn’t throw a perfectly choreographed worship night. He danced. Wild, unfiltered, unashamed before the Lord.

His wife, Michal, watched him from a distance, rolling her eyes. You’re embarrassing yourself, she basically said.

But David wasn’t performing for her approval. He wasn’t performing at all. He was surrendering.

And that surrender cost him his dignity, but it brought him close to God.

The Battle Behind the Music

Here’s what they don’t often tell you about leading worship.

The real battle doesn’t happen during the song. It happens in your heart before you ever pick up the mic.

It’s the fight to show up when your faith feels weak.

It’s the decision to surrender even when your emotions say otherwise.

It’s laying down your pride, your performance, your exhaustion, and offering it all to God.

I’ve had to learn the hard way that worship leading isn’t about executing a flawless setlist. It’s about dragging my tired, human self before the Lord and saying

God, I’m Yours. Exhaustion, doubts, cracked notes, messy emotions and all.

Because here’s the truth. If I’m only worshiping when I feel good, when life’s easy, or when the stage feels exciting, I’ve missed the whole point.

Where Worship Really Happens

Some of the most powerful worship moments of my life didn’t happen under stage lights.

They happened:

• In my car, tears streaming, whispering desperate prayers

• At home, guitar in hand, singing to an audience of one while the coffee brewed

• In silence, sitting with God, even when words failed me

That’s worship.

It’s raw. It’s honest. It costs you something.

And it’s not limited to a platform.

The stage might amplify your surrender, but it can never fake it.

The Song Your Life Sings

Paul nailed it when he wrote in Romans 12:1

“Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God. This is your true and proper worship.”

It’s not the flawless vocal run.

It’s not the perfectly mixed sound.

It’s your life. Your surrendered, exhausted, messy, joyful, human life

And sometimes that means leading worship when your heart feels heavy

Sometimes it means showing up when you’d rather hide in the sound booth

Sometimes it means surrendering not with a song, but with your silence

And God receives it all.

Me leading worship on a Sunday morning. Some days it feels easy, some days it’s pure surrender.

Let’s Be Honest Together

I don’t always want to stand on that stage

I don’t always feel on fire when the set starts

Sometimes the most spiritual thing I do all day is showing up. Tired, flawed, but surrendered.

And maybe that’s where authentic worship begins.

What About You?

Are you tired but still showing up?

Have you ever led, served, or worshiped when it felt like the hardest thing to do?

What does worship look like for you when life is heavy?

I’d love to hear your story. Seriously, drop a comment or reply. Let’s talk about worship. The real kind. The surrendered kind. The exhausted but present kind.

And if this resonates with you, would you share it with someone who’s leading on empty right now? They need to know they’re not alone.

Worship isn’t about the stage. It’s about surrender.

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