The Hardest Show I’ve Ever Done
Theatre hits differently when you’re breathing the same air as the story unfolding in front of you. This weekend, I closed two shows — and one of them became the hardest production I’ve ever led. A train-wreck rehearsal just days before opening. And then, almost overnight, everything shifted. Here’s what it taught me about culture, faith, and showing up again.
You Will Be the Villain Somewhere
This week taught me something I didn’t necessarily want to learn — but probably needed to.
I found myself reading words and sitting in conversations that quietly reframed my judgment and my values in a way that didn’t match my heart at all. Decisions I had made thoughtfully and conservatively were being interpreted as careless. Standards I believed were kid-centered and appropriate were described as questionable. And for a moment, I felt it — that tightening in my chest when you realize you are being cast in a role you never auditioned for.
The Culture of Shame
Shame doesn’t always shout. Sometimes it whispers. It lives in raised eyebrows, quiet speculation, and the stories we tell ourselves about other people’s lives.
And if I’m honest, we don’t always judge to be cruel — sometimes we judge to feel safe. If we can locate the flaw in someone else’s story, we convince ourselves their ending won’t be ours. That’s how shame culture survives.
Fine Is Not the Finish Line
Building culture is different than directing a show. It means holding a standard steady long before everyone else is ready to carry it with you. This season has stretched me more than I expected — physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Resistance doesn’t always mean something is broken; sometimes it means something is being built. It has tested my leadership, my endurance, and my conviction in ways I didn’t anticipate. There has been slow momentum, exhaustion that settles into my bones, and the temptation to lower the bar just to make it easier on everyone. But “fine” has never been the goal. Excellence doesn’t happen by accident — it’s built, protected, and sometimes fought for.
Looking Forward Through the Rearview
I didn’t plan to write this today.
This morning, I opened Facebook, scrolled past a few things, and then—boom—it did that thing it does and served up a memory I didn’t go looking for. Actually… it served up two. One from 2021. The other from 2022. Both deeply honest. Both from very different emotional places.
Reading them stopped me in my tracks. Suddenly, I was face-to-face with past versions of myself—one who was barely hanging on, and one who had found his footing again. It caught me off guard and sent me into a spiral of reflection I didn’t expect.
And that’s what led me here—writing this update four years later.