THE MIDDLE-OF-THE-ROAD MONK

I remember one year, just before camp, I went and sat on the roundabout at the bottom of my road for the evening. The air was stuffy, the night was warm and I was under-prepared. So I took myself to a place where no-one could find me, in the middle of a grassy roundabout, and I tried hard to focus while the traffic swarmed around me.

That was 2009. It turned out to be a great camp (though the rest of the year wasn't). I was thinking about that night tonight as I walked to my car. Again, the air was warm, the traffic flashed down the road and a light drizzle filled the night. Now that it's all team, it's a bit different these days. Worship no longer depends on one person, the kudos (if ever there was any) no longer matters, the pressure of choosing songs and creating packs is gone and everything is a lot more fluid and a lot more fun. I actually don't think I care as much about the details, which, is actually a beautiful thing. I've let it go.

I sat on that roundabout for hours that night in 2009, feeling stressed and afraid. I pulled my hoodie over my head and prayed like a kind of middle-of-the-road monk.

That's kind of the point though isn't it? You can't be a middle-of-the-road monk with a roundabout for a monastery. It's always either all or it's nothing. You can't go in with the idea that your preparation is to make you look great, and then stand in front of loads of people and sing 'All to Jesus I surrender' - because you don't. You're on a roundabout, hiding away from the world where practically everyone who drives down the road can see you looking oh so holy.

It's much better to be honest about where you're really at. I'm expecting this week to be a bit difficult, a bit fun, a bit emotional and a bit exhausting, but I genuinely don't care whether I'm behind a piano or on my face in the mud. In fact, it makes very little difference, once you stop caring what people think of you.