Life.
What chapter is this one?
Seasonal hires.
You know, the thing about nature, especially in the fall, is that everything reminds you that things are changing.
There's a scripture in Proverbs that tells us to consider the ant. The ant doesn't need somebody to announce that another season is coming. It prepares. It gathers. It works diligently because it understands that what you do in one season can determine how you survive the next.
And sometimes I think we forget that.
Sometimes you can work all day, pour everything you've got into something, and still feel like you haven't accomplished anything. Like you haven't even moved the needle.
And here's the thing. Sometimes you did move it. You accomplished something significant. But when you step back and look at the size of the entire project, you realize just how much work remains.
From an engineering or project management standpoint, I understand that.
You can have a vision. You can have a plan. You can have the necessary skills. But the success of a large project often depends on the capabilities, commitment, and communication of the people working alongside you.
Everybody has to get on one accord.
Once we're married to the project, we've got to understand that our individual contributions affect the whole thing.
And communication?
That's a whole different conversation.
But isn't life the same way?
We spend so much time measuring our progress by what we've accomplished, what we've earned, or what we've produced.
And it makes me wonder.
What's the price of creativity? Of innovation? Of art?
I don't think people always recognize the value of those things while they're happening.
How many artists weren't appreciated until after they were gone?
Then suddenly their work becomes something special. A novelty. A treasure.
People say, "Man, they just weren't understood in their time."
I'm not comparing myself to anybody. That's not what I'm saying.
What I am saying is, life is lifing.
And life is seasonal.
Things fall apart. Stuff breaks down. Money gets low. Plans change.
But you've got to remember the season.
Around this time of year, we start seeing seasonal jobs opening up. They might not be the jobs everybody wants, but they're opportunities. And somebody is going to be thankful for them.
Sometimes the season calls for something different.
I've spent countless hours making beats. Beat after beat after beat.
Sometimes I'll go back and listen to something I made and think, "Man, what was I doing?"
But then I'll revisit something else. Something that had trees in it. Something that connects to an idea I've been carrying around for years.
And suddenly, something clicks.
Maybe there was something there all along.
Maybe I just wasn't ready to understand it.
And the more I lean into my faith, the more I find myself relearning things. Rereading. Reconsidering. Trying to understand my purpose and where I fit into this world.
What am I supposed to be putting out there?
Am I supposed to be making music? Building businesses? Creating things that might not make sense to anybody but me?
Is that faith?
Or am I being selfish?
Am I pursuing my purpose, or am I pursuing something that I simply want?
Then I think about my father.
He was a businessman. But he also worked. He had a career. He had side hustles.
All those things were true.
So maybe what I'm experiencing isn't necessarily confusion.
Maybe I'm becoming the embodiment of everything I've learned, everything I've experienced, and everything I've been given.
But that requires growing up.
And growing up doesn't always have anything to do with age.
Sometimes it means taking inventory of yourself and realizing you don't even know how you got here.
That's part of what Sorry, I Forgot Who I Was is about.
Trying to recognize myself again.
Trying to understand how all these pieces fit together.
And sometimes, those answers come through challenges.
Through refinement.
You might not even realize you're being refined.
You might just think you're struggling.
You might think you're stuck.
You might think you're doing everything right and still getting nowhere.
But what if you're being prepared for another season?
What if the assignment isn't what you thought it was?
When you encounter what looks like a brick wall, maybe there's another way to look at it.
Instead of saying, "Today, I hit a brick wall," maybe you say:
"Today, I was rerouted."
"Today, I dodged a bullet."
"Today, I was obedient."
Because sometimes we measure our progress by what we've gained.
But what if today wasn't about gaining anything?
What if we didn't move the needle for ourselves...
But we pleased the right Person?
And maybe that's something worth considering.
— ILT