From Conduit to Chef: A New Way of Being

I’ve heard it said many times, in sermons, conversations, and ministry circles: “Be a conduit through which God can move.” It’s a beautiful analogy. The idea of being so connected to Jesus—the source of life—that His love, truth, and purpose flow through us is inspiring. For a time, my family even attended a church named Conduit. They lived out this vision in amazing ways, and we loved being a part of that community.

The imagery of a conduit can stir our imaginations: a water pipe bringing life to thirsty ground, or a power line carrying energy to light up the world. But as I’ve walked through seasons of ministry, I’ve begun to wonder if this picture tells the whole story. While it speaks to the beauty of being used by God, it can also leave us feeling a little hollow—unchanged, as if we’re merely a channel for something that doesn’t truly saturate us.

What happens when the flow slows to a trickle? When we’re running on empty but still trying to pass along God’s truth? That’s where I found myself, and maybe you have too.

When the Well Runs Dry

As a teaching pastor, I’ve often experienced the strange reality that the very topics I preach on tend to challenge me the most in my personal life. It’s like God won’t let me speak on something I haven’t wrestled with myself. And yet, Sunday keeps coming. Week after week, there’s pressure to produce—to craft messages that inspire and connect.

If I’m honest, there were seasons when my time with God became less about meeting Him and more about mining for content. I wasn’t coming to the Word to hear from Him for myself; I was just looking for something to share with others. And in that shift, I began to feel parched.

It’s not that the desire to teach or to deliver quality sermons is wrong—far from it. But when the rhythm of ministry outpaces the rhythm of our own soul’s connection with God, something gets lost. I found myself wondering: How can I preach on prayer when my own prayer life feels shallow? How can I speak about rest when I don’t remember the last time I truly rested in God’s presence?

I suspect I’m not the only one who has felt this way.

Moving Beyond Conduits

I don’t want to dismiss the idea of being a conduit—it’s a powerful image of availability and surrender to God’s work. But I began to realize that being a conduit wasn’t enough for me. A conduit carries life-giving water, but it doesn’t hold onto it. It isn’t nourished by it. And over time, I felt the emptiness of passing along truths that hadn’t yet become real in my own heart.

What if, instead of thinking of ourselves as conduits, we began to see ourselves as chefs?

Becoming a Chef

A chef doesn’t just pass along ingredients; they savor, experiment, and create. They taste every spice and ingredient, crafting meals that reflect their personal experience and expertise. In ministry, this means that before we offer spiritual nourishment to others, we must first taste and see that the Lord is good (Psalm 34:8).

This isn’t about perfection; it’s about personal engagement. It’s about letting God’s truth sink so deeply into our own lives that sharing it becomes as natural as telling someone about the best meal we’ve ever had.

When we become chefs, our ministry flows out of the overflow of our relationship with God. It’s not about scrambling to find something to say but about sharing what we’re already living and experiencing with Him.

Teaching Others to Cook

Here’s the other side of the equation: If we’re chefs, then the people we serve aren’t simply diners—they’re students. The church isn’t a restaurant where people show up once a week for a spiritual meal. It’s a culinary school where we teach others how to nourish their own souls.

Imagine the freedom this brings. Instead of feeling the pressure to serve a “perfect dish” every Sunday, we can focus on inviting people into the process. We can say, “What part of this meal spoke to you? How might you prepare it differently in your own life?” This shift encourages spiritual growth and a deeper connection with God—not just for them, but for us too.

The Invitation to Feast

If you’re feeling burned out, here’s the good news: You’re invited back to the table. If your soul feels dry, it’s not because God has stopped speaking—it may be that He’s inviting you to slow down and sit with Him, not to produce or perform, but simply to be with Him.

Isaiah 55:1-3 paints this beautiful picture of God’s invitation:

"Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters... Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and you will delight in the richest of fare. Give ear and come to me; listen, that you may live."

God doesn’t want us to merely pass along His truth to others; He wants us to feast on it ourselves. He wants us to recover the joy of meeting Him—not for a sermon, not for social media, not for anyone else, but just for the sake of being with Him.

Learning to Live Freely and Lightly

I love how Eugene Peterson paraphrases Jesus’ words in Matthew 11:28-30:

"Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life... Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly."

This is the invitation: to step off the treadmill of production and back into the unforced rhythms of grace. To let ministry flow out of intimacy. To become not just a conduit but a chef—someone who delights in the richness of God’s goodness and shares it from the overflow.

An Invitation to Hope

If you’re feeling burned out, I want you to hear this: There’s hope. You don’t have to stay on the hamster wheel. God is inviting you to taste, to feast, to savor His presence. He’s not asking you to pour out what you don’t have. He’s inviting you to be filled, to recover your soul, and to learn a new way of being.

So yes, I want to be a conduit for God’s work in the world. But more than that, I want to be a chef—a nourished soul who invites others to the table. And I believe that’s what God wants for you too. Let’s stop and taste what He’s preparing for us. Let’s savor the feast together.

If you would benefit from having someone to process your journey with as you long for renewal, clarity, or a deeper walk with the Lord, perhaps spiritual direction might be a gift to you. For more information, schedule a time to connect with me. It’s free, and it’s all geared around helping you to better discern the voice and fingerprints of God in your life.