Music – The 740 Challenge

Assessment Week – Day 1
Tuesday, February 10, 2026

I started reading Linchpin by Seth Godin today. Like many good books, it says more to me on the second read than the first.

The Factory

Godin talks about how the Industrial Revolution created what he calls “the factory”—the 9-to-5 job where somebody tells you what to do, you get paid to do what you’re told, you go home. You’ve been a part of the system, somebody else owns the means of production.

From standardized musket parts to Henry Ford’s assembly line, the factory seduced us into giving up what we were meant to do just to be part of the prescribed system.

The Quote That Hit Me

“People want to be told what to do because they’re afraid—even petrified—of figuring it out for themselves.”

That made me think: How many times have I neglected taking a more entrepreneurial path because I was afraid?

I’ve known for years there are projects I wanted to work on—the book I wrote and revised, the new book I’m writing, the speaking business I’ll start this year. But I’ve also spent way too much time just following instructions at work versus solving actual problems.

Being a linchpin means you know your job so well that you’re pushing the edges. You’re finding out what really needs to be done versus what the system says you need to do.

The Fake Version vs. The Real Thing

I remember a sermon where the pastor told someone who bragged about being good at Guitar Hero: “If you put as much time in on an actual guitar as you put in on the video game, you could be an actual guitar hero.”

We’re seduced by the easy, prescribed path. But I think because it’s difficult, it’s the very reason we need to do it.

What Round 1 Proved

Round 1 wasn’t the fake version. Forty consecutive days of real creative work—novel revised, blog posts written, 30,000+ people reached with Bible images. That’s not Guitar Hero. That’s the real guitar.

The Round 2 Danger

Here’s what I’m realizing as I enter Round 2: I need to lean even more into excellence and resist the urge to coast.

As momentum builds, it’s easy to phone things in. But the creative sessions, the reading, the daily habits—they’re leading me to become indispensable. Not just a factory worker following instructions, but someone figuring things out.

The Obligation

I have an obligation to myself, my family, and my Maker who gave me talents to make the most out of what I’ve been given.

I enjoy my day job. I enjoy data management. But that’s not all of who I am.

So I’m continuing in my side hustle tasks AND leaning into my day job to become as indispensable as I can make myself in both areas.

General Douglas MacArthur said, “Security is one’s ability to produce.” Being able to produce and being indispensable is about the only job security I can think of.

Assessment Week: Choosing Self-Direction

That’s why I’m working through Assessment Week—to figure out what Round 2 needs to look like.

I want to tell myself what to do with my creativity, my ability to produce. I can choose to be told what to do, or I can become what Seth Godin calls a linchpin—indispensable.

That’s who we should aspire to be. But we have to figure out how. And we have to do the hard work of getting it done.

Assessment Week – Day 1: Complete

Round 2 starts February 17. Time to figure out what it looks like to become indispensable—in every area of life.

See you tomorrow for Assessment Week Day 2.

It’s Gratitude Sunday, and I’m thankful for a woman who changed my life – though I didn’t realize how much until my wedding anniversary last week.

My wife reminded me of something I’d forgotten: things in my life that led me to where I am today that I didn’t identify until she pointed them out.

How Singing Led Me Down a Path

I used to be a singer. It was the thing I wanted to do most in this world.

I discovered my love for singing in high school – choir and show choir (yes, I was in show choir). For the first time in my life, I’d found something I truly enjoyed. Something that came somewhat naturally. I had a decent voice – as Danny Kaye said in White Christmas, I did fairly well in living rooms.

When I started applying myself, things changed fast.

Sophomore year: Made All-District Honor Choir. Tried out for All-State. Didn’t make it. I was devastated.

Junior year: My music teacher gave me an opportunity to attend a choir clinic before school started – learning the audition music for All-State Choir. I wanted to go desperately. But I didn’t have the money.

She let me mow her yard. Paid me. I did other work. I earned my way to that camp.

That was the first time I’d done anything like that – putting my own physical work into my success. Through that hard work, I made All-District again. I made All-State. That summer, I attended the Oklahoma Summer Arts Institute.

Senior year: District choir. All-State Choir again. Arts Institute again. And I made a National choir.

Freshman year of college: Full music scholarship to sing bass in my hometown choir.

I did that for a year, then decided I’d outgrown my hometown. Even though the university was good and the people were kind, I needed to get away. So I moved to Edmond, Oklahoma. Got a full scholarship to sing there too.

Why This Matters

My love for singing led me to work hard. Working hard led to opportunity. Opportunity led me to the place where I’d meet my wife.

Not long after we got married, my love for singing faded away. It was something I could do. Something I was definitely better at than in high school. But I looked at the singers around me and saw the dividing line – they were pursuing this as a career. And that, in truth, was no longer what I wanted.

I didn’t realize at the time that my singing had taken me from where I was to where I needed to be – to meet the woman who’s been my best friend on this earth and my wife for over 27 years now.

The Star of Today’s Gratitude Post

Mrs. Wilkins saw enough in me to work with me – helping me take the talent I had and make more of it.

My favorite story about her happened senior year. She called me into her office and, without much formality, said: “I have something to tell you. People don’t really like you that much.”

That seems counterintuitive for a gratitude post, but hear me out.

I said, “Why?”

She said, “Because you’re entirely too arrogant.”

I said, “I’m not arrogant. I’m confident.” (Which is, new flash, the code word for arrogant.)

She then asked if I would check my ego and begin treating others with respect, courtesy, and kindness.

I didn’t understand it at the time, but it was exactly the conversation I needed.

The Foundation She Helped Build

Mrs. Wilkins gave me some of the building blocks I needed to get to my wife. She also gave me character blocks – so that when I start feeling too full of myself, I remember her lesson: Yes, you may be talented. But there are others far more talented. How you treat people is the important part. Do this with humility and grace.

Mrs. Wilkins, if you’re reading these words, know that you’ve had a profound effect on my life – not only in aiding the butterfly effect that got me to where I am today, but also in calling me to aspire to develop the character I so desperately needed.

Thank you for the way you did this – not just for me, but for countless students who came into your choir room. You pointed us to excellence and helped us be the best we could be. And you did it with more grace and compassion than I know I deserved.

You will forever be one of my favorite teachers and a profound influence on my life.

Thank you.

Tag: Music

The Factory vs. The Linchpin: Assessment Week Day 1