2024-2025 Interns

SUNDAY MORNING - 7:45 AM

Levi (my fellow intern) and I step up to the starting line of the Official Perrysburg Auditorium Racetrack. 

Tensions are high as the production team watches from the sidelines, barely awake, as we gear up for the most important race of the morning.  

On your marks. Get set. GO!!

We take off in a full sprint... moments later, we cross the finish line. (I'll let you guess who won... you can ask Levi.)  

To an outsider, this might look like questionable life choices, but to me, this ridiculous lap has become one of my favorite parts of the day.  

Because it’s not about the running—it’s about resetting my heart. I’ve noticed that when I start the day with the right heart, everything else tends to follow. And that’s exactly what I’ve been learning all month.  

The idea of worship being about the heart first really hit me during our Night of Worship. There’s something powerful about hearing a whole room worship together. But what stuck with me most wasn’t the production—it was the heart behind it. Worship isn't just about the songs we sing; it's about the heart we bring. And that's true for everyone, whether you're on stage or behind the scenes.  

In production, our job is to create a space for others to worship without being noticed. But that doesn’t mean we aren’t leading. Every mix, lighting cue, and camera angle helps lead worship. And if we want to lead others into worship, we have to go there first ourselves.  

That’s why our team has a saying: "You can’t lead others where you haven’t been yourself." We go first.

Worship starts with us. If our hearts aren’t in it, how can we expect anyone else’s to be? People don’t need to be told about worship—they need to be shown.  

And that idea of going first kept showing up. Whether I was stepping into new roles, battling perfectionism, or facing unexpected challenges, I kept asking myself: "Where is my heart right now?"  

It’s easy for me to get caught up in what’s not going right or how I thought things should be. But throughout this month, when everything feels like it’s on fire and I’m wondering, “How did I get here?” one phrase keeps repeating: Don’t forget to worship. Because that’s what reminds me of my heart and why I’m doing any of this in the first place.  

I’m learning that worship isn’t about perfect circumstances—it’s about where my heart is in the middle of them. Just like my morning lap, worship isn’t always put together and doesn’t look the same for everyone. It’s about showing up, bringing what I’ve got, and trusting that God will meet me where I’m at. Because when I show up with an open heart, everything else seems to fall into place. 

- Kali 

If I had to sum up February in two words, it would be wholesome chaos.

I could tell you about the chaos of leading my first weekend on my own, the adrenaline rush when the lighting board went down mid-service, or the moment I realized—I was the one in charge. Or about Preach Off VII, the football turf pellets I’m still sweeping up, the geysers that betrayed me, or the dead mouse we found. But instead, I want to share how a test in intern class helped me start accepting my wiring, and how a trip to Chicago reminded me of a truth I needed to hear again.

In intern class, we took the Enneagram test—a tool that helps uncover the why behind what we do. I always saw myself as a 3—the achiever, driven and ambitious. So, when my results came back as a 4, my first reaction was: This test doesn’t know me!  But as I kept reading, something clicked.

The “3” was who I wanted to be. The “4” was who God wired me to be. I spent so much time trying to become someone else that I never stopped to understand who I already was. The test didn’t just show me how I’m wired—it showed me what it’s like to be on the receiving end of me. I began noticing my blind spots, but I realized that my wiring isn’t a limitation, but an invitation to lean on others.

I realized that when you embrace the way that you're wired, you give yourself permission to not be good at everything. Instead of trying to become someone I'm not, I started seeing how others are gifted in ways I'm not. I saw how we were literally wired to depend on each other.

Then came our trip to Chicago. While I could tell you about the churches we visited, the Bean, or the pizza, what stood out most were the people we met. They weren’t just generous with their time and homes—they were generous with their stories. Listening to them share how they trusted God, even when things didn’t make sense, reminded me of moments in my own life when all I had was God's invitation to trust. They talked about how they saw God’s fingerprints best in the rearview mirror—not in the windshield. And as I listened, I realized this wasn’t a new lesson. It was one I needed to hear again. 

Looking back, I see how February’s chaos wasn’t just a series of events—it was an invitation to trust in the midst of confusion. It reminded me that the unexpected moments—the ones I didn’t plan for or fully understand—were the ones that shaped me the most. And now, I’m learning to embrace the wholesome chaos of life, to lean into it, and to rely on the people who walk through it with me. They’re the ones who make the chaos feel a little less chaotic—and a lot more worthwhile.

- Kali 

I can’t believe January is already gone—time flies! This month, I’ve learned a lot about change, community, and what it means to hold onto what’s true when everything around me shifts.

Well, we made it—Christmas is behind us, and I’m still catching my breath. From my first Perrysburg DreamTeam Night to fluffing an entire forest of Christmas trees (yes, I earned my OCPETFLB—Official Certified Professional Expert Tree Fluffer + Lighter Badge, it’s real, look it up), 9 Christmas services in 4 days, and endless mopping of fake snow—it was a whirlwind of moments I didn’t even know I’d signed up for.

In case you missed it, I transitioned from DreamTeam at Whitehouse to Production at Perrysburg this month. Production wasn’t new to me, but stepping back into it during the busiest time of the year wasn’t all smooth sailing.

Prior to my internship, I served for close to 8 years on our Whitehouse Production team. So, when I first started my internship, people asked why I chose DreamTeam over Production. My answer was simple: “I have no idea, but it’s what God told me to do.” Looking back, I see how those months in DreamTeam shifted my perspective. I learned to value the relational moments—the ones we miss when we’re too focused on perfection. A lesson I got to relearn this month.

In the chaos of the season, my old insecurities resurfaced and I found myself once again striving for perfection and trying to prove myself—spoiler alert, I failed spectacularly.

But in the middle of those failures, I learned how to choose to focus on excellence over perfection. For me, excellence isn’t about getting everything right—it’s about showing up, doing my best, and connecting with people. I decided that if everything else fell apart technically but I still made connections relationally, that was a successful weekend.

And I learned to celebrate my failures. Yep, that’s right. Whether it was battling a mop bucket (we’re friends now), fighting with a stage curtain (we're not friends anymore), or creating a lovely screeching noise as I scraped a TV across the stage (yes, that actually happened), those failures taught me more than perfection ever could. They gave me opportunities to laugh at myself, connect with others, and remember that failure doesn’t define me. I can’t control what happens, but I do get to choose how I show up.

As I reflected on the month, I realized it wasn’t the big wins or flawless moments that stuck with me—it was the small, imperfect ones. The backstage matches of Rock-Paper-Scissors and games of Uno where I got completely destroyed, the dad jokes everyone secretly loves, and all of the ways I failed. Those are the moments that connect us, challenge us, and define us. They remind us why we do what we do. And more often than not, I’m discovering they’re tied to our biggest mistakes and hardest days. But that’s what makes them real. That’s what makes them ours.

And that’s why I’m learning to choose the hard moments. Because they’re the ones that create the memories and connections that make it all worth it.

Thank you all for being on this crazy adventure with me, I seriously couldn't do this without you! 

- Kali 

SLUG BUG! PURPLE CAR, I WIN!!!

Growing up, spotting a purple car equaled instant victory in the never-ending car game. Once you start looking for purple cars—specifically purple Jeeps, because they’re awesome—you suddenly see them everywhere. It's proof that you often find what you're looking for.  

This month, my "purple Jeep" has been popcorn. My new arch-nemesis. It's been EVERYWHERE: in boxes, scattered on the floor, even invading my dreams, staring at me as if to say, "You missed a spot."  

But beyond the judgmental popcorn, our At The Movies series has been incredible. Over 1,000 people have joined us each weekend—numbers we haven’t seen since before COVID. It's been a wild ride, juggling all the details and trying to vacuum faster than the popcorn could multiply.  

In the middle of the chaos, though, I couldn’t shake this salty feeling—not from the popcorn but from unmet expectations. I wanted control and certainty, but the gap between what I planned and what actually happened left me feeling frustrated and, well, salty.  

A conversation with a friend pointed me back to Jesus' words:  

"You are the salt of the earth… But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again?"

Salt doesn’t try to control—it preserves, enhances, and brings out the best in what’s already there. I realized I had become the wrong kind of salty, frustrated by what I couldn’t control.  

But then I started noticing something powerful in the chaos—a simple invitation.  

Everyone wants to belong to something, and sometimes all it takes is a simple invite to help someone take that first step. This came to life as we gathered a team to pack over 500 popcorn boxes each week. While the popcorn got packed faster, something more meaningful happened: packing popcorn together created a space for connection. In the middle of the laughter, conversations, and shared effort, I saw how God used even the messiest jobs to bring people closer to Him.  

When I stopped trying to control everything and focused instead on simply showing up, I realized I didn’t need certainty—I needed to trust that God was working, even when things didn’t go as planned. In those moments, I started to see why we do this in the first place: in the joy of welcoming people for the first time, the genuine conversations over popcorn, and the team coming together.  

Despite my best efforts, the popcorn is still everywhere. But now, instead of feeling frustrated and salty, I’m choosing to be the salt—to show up with a new perspective and a broom in hand. Because just like purple Jeeps and popcorn, when you choose to look for God in the mess, you'll always find Him.  

- Kali 

"There is great joy to be found in repetition if we can learn to be patient and full of delight in the present moment, for the path before us is long and, at times, hard, but it is overflowing with the inexpressible delight of love."

Yes, you read that right. Feet! I know what you're thinking: "Kali, have you lost it? What do feet have to do with your internship?" Great question, I'd love to tell you.

Over the past month, I’ve encountered references to feet everywhere—from the phrase "be where your feet are" to following in Jesus's footsteps and being his hands and feet. The references kept stacking up, leaving me to wonder: what's the deal with feet? My best guess? Feet provide stability, move us forward, and symbolize our journey.

This past month has been a whirlwind of experiences—a spiritual retreat, visits to other campuses, and preparations for Halloweekend and At The Movies. Despite the excitement, I struggled to pinpoint what I learned or which experience stood out. I’m not saying I haven’t learned anything; rather, nothing groundbreaking has really put its best foot forward.

After reflection, I realized my insight wasn’t revolutionary; it was simple: there is great joy in repetition. While it may sound unoriginal, it's about the journey, not just the destination. Even without wild experiences or earth-shattering revelations, joy can be found in the step-by-step process of life. As I moved through this month, these stages became clearer:

Curiosity -> Discovery -> Learning/Experiencing -> Questioning -> Growing -> Being Challenged -> Surrendering -> Being Strengthened -> Finding Meaning

If I were to draw a line between these stages, it would look like a toddler got a little too excited with a crayon—these last three months have been anything but linear. Yet, I’m learning to celebrate progress at every stage. The beauty of repetition lies in the necessity of relearning the same lessons; it’s a normal part of life.

Through this ongoing process, I’ve discovered that I’m not just repeating lessons; I'm also strengthening muscles I never knew existed—being present, focusing on what matters most, and learning to love the journey itself. Just like physical training, this strengthening requires effort; it stretches me and often feels uncomfortable. But sometimes, being broken down is necessary to be built back up stronger.

So, while I may not have anything big or shiny to report, I’m learning to find joy in the process. I’ve realized there isn’t a finish line or a single moment to declare that I’ve made it. Instead, it’s about faithfully putting one foot in front of the other and building my capacity for joy through struggles, embracing the unending pursuit of becoming better, one step at a time.

- Kali 

"You know you matter, right?" 
"Oh no, you drank the 'You Matter' Kool-Aid..."  
"Yes, I did! But I believe in the Kool-Aid!"

Whenever someone said 'You Matter,' I used to think, yeah, sure, you drank the Kool-Aid, and now you're just repeating the phrase because it sounds cool. But over the past month, those words have become real in ways they hadn’t before. I’ve seen God shift my heart and perspective from simply hearing the phrase to actually believing it—and living like it’s true.

September has been a busy month, so instead of giving you a 10-page recap, I’ll summarize it all in one sentence, here we go! This past month, I’ve learned how being present can change your perspective on your purpose.

Coming from a production background, I was used to having tangible results—something at the end of the weekend to prove that what I did mattered. But stepping into DreamTeam ministry, I kept waiting for something to 'click,' something tangible that would make everything make sense. Over time, I realized I wasn't in the ministry of tangible; I was in the ministry of presence.

Being present means being where your feet are, caring so much about the person in front of you, that you don't care about anything else. I began to see that what mattered most wasn’t anything tangible I could do; it was how I show up and loved others. It changed the way I saw people. 

This shift in perspective changed how I approached not only my internship but my everyday life. I learned that I didn’t need to have all the answers or produce something tangible—as long as I was aligned with the deeper purpose: to be fully present with the people I meet, love them, make them feel like they matter, and trust that God is working in every moment, even when I can’t always see it.

So yeah, I drank the Kool-Aid too. But it’s more than just a phrase now—it’s real stories, real people, and real lives being changed, including my own. If I truly believe in who God says He is, and if I’m aligned with what matters most, how could I not believe in the Kool-Aid? 

- Kali

Hello!

I cannot believe that the first month of the internship has already gone by! But I’ll probably say that every month, so I better get used to it now. From navigating new schedules and meetings to being a part of events like the Global Leadership Summit and our DreamTeam Launch, to spending weekends at our Perrysburg and West Toledo campuses, this past month has been an adventure filled with unexpected twists and turns, as well as some incredible experiences along the way.

Stepping into this new season of change, I won’t lie—there have been challenging moments, but there have also been amazing moments where I can only say, that was God.

One of these moments happened on my first weekend, which was Baptism Weekend at the Perrysburg campus. When I arrived on Saturday, there were no baptisms planned, so the team wouldn’t be there. Just in case someone did decide to be baptized, Cindy, the Perrysburg DreamTeam Director, said, “I have extra clothes; I can do it—or actually, you could.” Before I knew it, I said yes. I wasn’t sure if I was serious, but Cindy definitely was.

Next thing I know, I’m praying, thinking, "Well, if someone does show up, how cool would it be to get to be a part of that." At the same time, another part of me is thinking, "God, what if someone does show up? What did I just sign up for?"

And then, there I was in the tub with Ariella, whose facial expressions were just gold. It was a moment where I felt like God was saying, I have you exactly where you need to be right now, and all I needed to do was be willing to say yes to what he had for me. Even though it was uncomfortable and unknown, saying yes led to something I never could have imagined, and I am so grateful to have been a part of it.

On Sunday, I got to experience 18 other people taking their next step of baptism—12 of them spontaneously—each with a unique story God was writing.

In moments when it’s challenging and none of it makes sense, I’m learning to hold onto these moments and remember that I don’t need to know what my future holds because I know the one who holds my future. All I need to do is trust and be willing to say yes when God says, jump in, I’m all in.

Thank you all for being on this journey with me. I could not do this without you. I’m so grateful to have your support and to be able to share it all with you. Until next time, when I can’t believe another month has passed…

 - Kali