Close Enough to Shine

Back when Whit and I were running with Catch The Wave, one of the wildest ministry expressions we saw was Coachella.

A group called the Monks of Stoke would show up in tie-dye robes… right in the middle of it all.

The music.
The drugs.
The sexuality.
The New Age spirituality.
The full environment.

And they weren’t there to stand outside and shout at it. They went in.

They danced.
They laughed.
They made breakfast and coffee.
They created space.

Not a space of compromise… a space of peace. Every morning, their camp was packed. People didn’t just come for food. They stayed because of how it felt.

Safe.
Calm.
Seen.

People would literally ask, “What is this? Why does it feel different here?”

Some didn’t even want to leave. They just wanted to stay near it. And over the course of the festival, the stories piled up… conversations, salvations, curiosity, tears, questions about Jesus.

At the same time, there were other believers doing outreach. They stayed outside the festival. They didn’t go in. And it makes sense, right? That's safer. Cleaner. More “set apart.”

But their experience was completely different.

Everyone they talked to was rushing past them on the way in… or completely drained on the way out. They weren’t wrong per se, but they also weren’t in position. And because of that, they didn’t see the same fruit.

That tension messes with people. Because there’s something in us that wants to believe proximity equals compromise. That if you get too close to darkness, you’re automatically in danger.

But Jesus didn’t operate that way.

He didn’t hover at a distance from brokenness. He moved toward it. He wasn't being careless or trying to blend in, He moved confidently… because He knew who He was and what He carried. He knew who had his back!! #ThanksDad

I’m not saying you have to go to Coachella to be like Jesus - I’m not even called there myself right now, but I am realizing something I can’t ignore.

Here in Africa, there are places in my life where I feel pulled toward people or environments that aren’t clean, simple, or “safe”… and there’s a voice that immediately says:

“Stay back.”
“It’s too close.”
“It’s not wise.”

And if I’m honest, that voice often sounds spiritual. But underneath it, I’m starting to see something else:

A lack of trust.

Not in my ability… but in His presence in me. Because if I believe I AM THE ONE carrying the strength, then of course I’ll keep my distance. But if HE IS THE SOURCE… then proximity isn’t a threat.

The idea that we should always stay at arm’s length from darkness can feel like wisdom. But sometimes, it’s just fear dressed up in theology and it quietly keeps us from the very fruit we’re asking God for.

I've decided I want to stop asking: “How far should I stay from sin?”

And start asking: “Jesus, where are You going… and do I trust You enough to go there with You?”

Because for some of us, the “darkness” isn’t a music festival.

It’s a struggling marriage.
It’s someone caught in addiction.
It’s a space shaped by money, ego, or status.
It’s New Age spirituality.
It’s broken families.
It's sexual sin.
It’s messy conversations you’d rather avoid.

And you can feel that tension… that pull.

If that’s you, don’t rush it. But don’t dismiss it either. Have the conversation. Sit with Him and ask honestly:

“Is this something You’re calling me into, or something I’m trying to prove?”

And if He is leading you in…

Then it might not just be about what He wants to do through you. It might be about what He wants to build in you. A kind of trust that doesn’t rely on distance for safety. A kind of confidence that knows you’re not walking in alone.

That’s where the fruit is. Not at arm’s length.

But close enough to shine.