Showing Up

Showing Up

As I write this, today is the last day of 2025 and I find myself sitting at the corner table of a gaming cafe, drinking my morning coffee out of a pint-sized wooden stein. The large decorative mug matches the tavern vibe of the room with its fireplace, couches covered with animal pelts, and various axes/swords/shields adorning the walls. The hand-crafted tables are all illuminated with equally hand crafted fixtures hanging from the ceiling with large flickering bulbs that simulate candlelight. Every shelf lining the walls is crammed with board games that the general population have never heard of.

If you are also a nerd/geek/gamer you can understand why this is my favorite space.

One year ago I sat here on a Tuesday night with an open journal in front of me. I also kept an open heart while watching, seeking, praying for direction as to how I could make this my “mission field”.  How I could “live intentionally in the place where God placed me.” 

I was there following the advice given to me by Giles Hash of Discipleship Gaming. Following his breakout session with Mark Lutz about D&D as Ministry at NCMS 2024, I wanted to pick his brain for guidance about how to take the growing desire within me to connect with other D&D (Dungeons & Dragons) players for nerd ministry – specifically in local game stores – and start making it a reality.

I remember asking about how to interact, if there were any special printed tools that existed, how to shift gameplay into spiritual conversations, and so many other questions to help provide a checklist of daily and weekly things to do. 

However the words he shared didn’t involve elaborate prep, a checklist, or some gimmick. His greatest advice was four words.

“Just show up regularly.”

In my immediate city there are three FLGS (friendly local game stores). One is part of a small chain that hosts primarily Warhammer events along with some general board game play with the prerequisite bread-and-butter of most game shops – Magic the Gathering (MTG). They had a small back room where D&D happened on occasion, but it felt like a rare event. 

The second location was a small mom and pop that focuses only on Trading Card Games (MTG, Pokemon, Yu-Gi-Oh, etc). I had tried to run some D&D there when my original game meetup location closed in 2019. Our tiny remnant tried to hold on for a bit – but the upcoming pandemic struck the final nail.

Neither of these two locations felt like the right environment. While both are successful businesses with merits in their own right, neither felt right for building community within D&D regulars.

But that Tuesday night I sat down at the third and newest game store in our city. This game cafe was born from a group that organized board game pops ups on a weekly or monthly basis at local breweries.  The cafe’s current brick and mortar location, opened in June of 2024, was largely funded through a Kickstarter campaign. I had been fortunate enough to catch wind of the grand opening and my youngest child and I had to sit in an outdoor overflow due to the 300+ guests that had crammed in to take part in food, fun, and friends.

The vibe was so tavern-esque, warm, friendly, the staff were very personable (and the sandwiches are amazing)! 

I had found what social researchers would call “my third space”.

That Tuesday night I began jotting notes and thinking about how to start a new weekly group. What are the best days and hours? How I could utilize Easter and Christmas RPG one-shots as additional methods to point to Jesus. Could I start a Bible study? What can I put in peoples hand as a cool take home that would point them to the truth somehow. But where do I begin? How do I start this? 

My racing mind got interrupted by a woman who had started unloading books, dice, and maps onto a nearby table.

“Hey!” she called to me. “Have you ever played D&D?”

It turns out I was vastly overcomplicating the process. 

I didn’t need to have some cool gimmick, a set ministry plan, or a checklist. 

I just had to show up – regularly.

Due to her simple invitation, I joined the Tuesday night D&D campaign. I got to know the DM (Dungeon Master) as well as the dozen other weekly players who drop in and out. I got to know the cafe staff. I expanded my time there to include the Thursday night D&D group and have been able to introduce myself to a multitude of curious guests who stop in to see what the cafe is all about. I further expanded my time there as it became a once a week “office” where I worked remotely or on personal passion projects.

And most importantly, I got to know the owner.

Understand that, if anyone were to look over my shoulder while I’m taking notes for D&D, they would notice among the chicken-scratch of NPCs, and town maps, there is a list of every player who sits at the table. Alongside their name are little notes about their lives as I get to know them. Concerns, surgeries, heartbreak, celebrations. This is my ever-growing list. These are the people who I do my best to cover in prayer everyday.  Mostly by their real name, but often by their character alias.

But, if you flip to the beginning of the journal, the first name to ever appear on that list – is that of the owner.

Over the last year we have gotten to know one another pretty well and it’s become a growing friendship. After almost a year of hanging out at this cafe, he and I had a fantastic two-hour conversation about life, faith, and shared trauma. He is not a believer. Nothing we talked about tipped the scales of his faith. However, he now knows that he has a friend who is praying for him daily, and he has told me how that simple act impacted him greatly. 

It’s been amazing to see just how far the knowledge that someone is praying for them affects an individual. I’ve seen the look of real appreciation in the eyes of a party member headed into an IRL serious surgery. Using Discord we were able to keep up with her recovery and celebrate when she returned to the table after a two month absence. 

I’ve come to learn that it’s okay not to have a ministry checklist. Most DMs know that your plans often have to become improvised anyway as the party makes choices you never imagined. Most checklists have to be discarded.

I’m learning that real ministry is not a 5 minute Gospel sales pitch. It’s a waiting and listening game where we not only get to know people, but also that they get to know us. They get to see how we respond – not only to the highs – but also to the lows that we all encounter and battle in our own lives.  

Today, I’m entering the new year excited and ready to see what’s going to happen in this little cafe. I’m currently part of four separate D&D campaigns. I have 36 people on my regular prayer list, building some lasting friendships, and waiting for the moment when the Holy Spirit gives the signal to take a conversation a step deeper into the realm of faith and introduce people to Jesus. 

I don’t know when or if that will happen. 

But for now – I’m just going to keep showing up.

david hicks

David Hicks is a graphic designer from Birmingham, Alabama. He is currently seeking to understand and develop what Nerd Ministry looks like through weekly active involvement at local game stores.

David Hicks on Bēhance

15 Things I Learned from 15 Years of Anime Ministry

15 Things I Learned from 15 Years of Anime Ministry

Last September marked the 15th anniversary of my first blog post on Beneath the Tangles, which in that time developed from a “Christian aniblog” to a full-out “anime ministry.” Over the years, I learned so much about ministering to otaku and other nerds in the digital space—more often than not through my mistakes and errors! I’d like to share 15 of the things I’ve learned—many of which I’m still learning today.

 

  1. People Matter More Than Opinions

We nerds love to share our interests—and our opinions about them. But when we nerd out, our passion sometimes becomes more about “winning” than sharing Christ’s love. It takes practice to determine when to go all out and when to pull back, when to share and when to listen.

 

  1. Don’t Forget the Sabbath

Until recently, I told myself that taking the Sabbath didn’t apply to my ministry—this wasn’t really “work” after all, right? But after being convicted by a sermon, I started to do a weekly ministry Sabbath. No surprise—following what God has instituted was best for me and the ministry. Stepping away once a week left me refreshed and energized for the week ahead, and had a profound additional impact—it increased the quality of the time I spent with family and friends. 

 

  1. Ministry is a Sacrifice

I used to think that if you hit that sweet spot, when your gifts, audience, interests, and skills all aligned, ministry would be as fun as it is effective. While nerd ministry often is great fun, it isn’t always—in fact, it shouldn’t always be. It’ll sometimes be challenging. It’ll sometimes even hurt. But after all, love is sometimes hard.

 

  1. Build a Party

There’s so much truth to glean from the party analogy, including this: You can’t go on this adventure alone. In fact, you may need several parties, and they may change over time. Our ministry is all-volunteer, so I absolutely rely on dozens of adventurers that join me in our “guild.” But a party might also be financial backers, prayer partners, a small group, or a core leadership team. Find your support.

 

  1. Find Something to Love

I’ll admit it—I don’t watch as much anime as I used to. But I try to at least read a light novel, watch a fantasy series, or play through a game several times a week. It keeps me connected to the fandom—and gives me energy, too. 

 

  1. Ministry Takes Time

Many of the friendships I’ve built in ministry are now 5, 10, or even 15 years old. Some of those people have come to Christ or deepened their faith, but others seem as far away from Jesus as ever. That’s okay. Relationships take time—years even. If we love our friends, we’ll stick with them and pray and hope that God is working. The goal is love them as Jesus loves them for as long as they’re in our lives.

 

  1. Ministry is Momentary

On the other hand, some people are with us for a quick minute, never to be seen again. But your time is not wasted on them either—who knows how your comment, message, or stream will impact that person? We are often a dot on someone’s timeline of faith—but that dot could be a turning point. Make your time with them count.

 

  1. No Salvation? No Problem.

During a conversation a few years ago, a friend and the leader of a large, vibrant nerd culture ministry noted that he couldn’t necessarily point to even one person coming to faith through their work, but that didn’t mean they weren’t being faithful, nor that they weren’t having results—they just weren’t easily quantifiable. Indeed, we can believe that the Holy Spirit is working; our job is to be faithful in whatever we do. Our ministries might not be the ones that bring people home; but God is still working through them in whatever way he desires.

 

  1. Thank God

Along the same lines, God seems to send encouragement my way just as I start to worry or feel down about lack of “results”—a timely message, an unexpected donation, a follow back from someone I admire. They remind me to be thankful—and that gratefulness ought to be a greater and more frequent part of my life.

 

  1. Wisen Up

Wisdom is developed through years and experience. It doesn’t happen overnight—it takes decades to develop. I wish I had really believed this when I was in my 20s and 30s—I may have been less resolute about advice I gave that in hindsight, may not have been as godly as I thought it was, and I may have cultivated the humility I needed to learn from those with wisdom.

 

  1. Squash That Envy Bug

I got a big head early in our ministry when we were the only one in our sphere. Now, there are dozens of otaku ministries, if not hundreds—and many have greater reach than us. For years, I struggled with the envy bug, and I made the mistake of not dealing with it there and then, so of course, it grew over time. I later learned that I could stomp it out, not only by simply knowing and loving Christ more and more, but by getting to know these other fellow laborers and even sometimes partnering with them with their work. 

 

  1. Build Partners (and Friendships)

One of those ministries I was envious of led to a major falling out. Years later, I met the leader of that ministry in person for the first time, and we just clicked—and why wouldn’t we? We both loved Jesus, and our passions and goals were the same. We apologized and are now friends. There’s too much at stake to let bitterness grow between potential partners—and so much to gain when building friendships in ministry spaces instead.

 

  1. Breathe—Then Respond

With the case above, where I sent an email that led to the falling out, it would have done me good to just take a moment, breathe, walk away from my keyboard, and talk to God—and maybe to a trusted friend as well. Since then, I’ve incorporated that approach whenever I get riled up about a comment, an article, or a tweet. I don’t have to answer right there and then, which is such a blessing about digital ministry (live streaming aside!). I can return later and answer in a way that’s maybe more consistent with the character of Christ than the “me in the moment” would have.

 

  1. Everyone Is Watching (Or At Least Someone Is)

Speaking of responding to negative or hurtful comments, remember that even if a reply doesn’t reach the person who initially commented, other people will read it. That’s how I approach my responses—the initial commenter may not care about my reply, but others will, and I’m sharing Christ with them, too.

 

  1. Don’t Let Ministry Be an Excuse

“I’m doing my streaming ministry” is not an excuse to avoid the other responsibilities God has given you—to your church, family, work, or elsewhere. Nor can you be effective in ministry in the long term if you’re not being faithful to God with your practices of studying scripture, praying, fellowship, evangelism and making disicples. Seek God wholeheartedly, and let that bleed out into your VTubing, online small groups, and tabletop gaming nights. 

And since it’s now year sixteen, one more for the road:

 

  1. Don’t Give Up

You may need to take a break. You may need to downshift your ministry, change it entirely, or join another. But don’t give up on loving people. Don’t give up on using your skills and passions to reach the lost. Ministry is hard, and the devil is powerful, but God is greater still.

 


 

CHARLES SADNICK

Charles Sadnick, known online as Twwk, serves in anime ministry through Beneath the Tangles, exploring how faith intersects with fandom and everyday life. He’s passionate about meeting nerds where they are and having thoughtful conversations about meaning, grace, and why certain stories stick with us long after the final episode.

The Tavern Model: Why Digital Ministry Needs Fewer Stages and More Tables

The Tavern Model: Why Digital Ministry Needs Fewer Stages and More Tables

When I first started posting content online as The Guiding Lantern, one of the final steps before publishing was finding relevant hashtags. That’s how I stumbled into spaces like #cottagecore and #taverncore, tags used by creators who blend fantasy aesthetics with storytelling, encouragement, and quiet presence.

If you click into either of those tags on TikTok or Instagram, you’ll quickly notice a pattern. You’re not just seeing costumes or props. You’re entering a world shaped by warmth, whimsy, and welcome. Often, there’s a humble tavernkeeper on screen. Someone pouring a drink. Someone offering advice. Someone sharing a story from their life, whether in character or not. Sometimes you’ll see a funny skit or the use of a trending sound or meme, but the core of these vibes is cozy and warm with some sort of fantasy tabletop role-playing game aesthetic. 

And while these videos often begin with strong hooks and quick cuts, their defining trait isn’t speed or spectacle. It’s posture.

These creators aren’t performing at people. They’re sitting with them. The tone is unhurried. The words are kind. The energy feels less like a stage and more like a table.

That distinction matters more for digital ministry than we might realize.

 

Stages Dominate Digital Ministry

 

Many digital ministries unintentionally treat their mission field more like a stage than a table. This posture isn’t new. We’ve seen it reflected in physical churches for decades.

Much of modern church life has been shaped around the Sunday morning worship experience: leaders on a stage, delivering thoughtful teaching, meaningful stories, and carefully prepared moments designed to hold attention.

Digital ministry often inherits this same instinct. The platform changes, but the posture remains. Content is still built around performance, now filtered through algorithms, edits, metrics, and high-energy live streams or videos. In our particular context, it often is around video games, board games, or a TTRPG like Dungeons & Dragons. 

There’s also real pressure to imitate what appears successful. It’s easy to chase styles, formats, and trends that promise growth, reach, or influence.

To be clear, quality is essential. You can feel called to digital ministry all day, but if you’re not creating something people want to engage with, you’ll never have anyone to invite to the table.

 

The Tavern Model

 

At its core, the Tavern Model is simple.

It prioritizes tables over stages.
Presence over performance.
Relationship over reach.

Throughout the Gospels, Jesus is often found in small, human spaces. He teaches while walking with people. He listens in one-on-one conversations, such as his late-night talk with Nicodemus. He shares meals with friends, sits by fires, and enters homes where people feel safe enough to ask honest questions.

Even when Jesus teaches large crowds, the deeper work often happens away from the spotlight. The feeding of the five thousand, for example, isn’t just about a miracle in front of a crowd. It’s also about what Jesus is forming in His disciples as they learn to trust Him. Real change happens through closeness, not performance.

That posture has shaped how I approach The Guiding Lantern.

I want the space I create online to feel approachable. Warm. Human. I can’t solve everyone’s problems, and I can’t listen to every story in full, but I can create a place where people feel welcome to sit down and share. A place where advice, care, and leadership insight are offered without pressure. 

The Tavern Model reflects the way Jesus invited people into a relationship first. Before correction. Before commitment. Before understanding everything.

 

Why Tables Work Better Online

 

Digital spaces, especially nerd spaces, are uniquely suited for table-shaped ministry.

Online, people often feel safer. Screens create just enough distance to lower defenses. Usernames and avatars provide people with a space to be honest. Many will say things in comments, chats, or messages that they would never say out loud in a church hallway.

A lot of people arrive quietly. They watch. They listen. They wait. That silence isn’t disengagement. It’s trust-building. People are deciding whether a space is safe before they ever speak.

I’ve seen this repeatedly in my own work. On YouTube Shorts, a handful of people respond consistently, sharing what’s happening in their lives or how a leadership lesson connects to a Dungeons & Dragons character they’re playing. Story becomes a safe mirror, helping people process real struggles without having to name everything directly.

When people share, I respond. Not as someone on a stage, but as someone sitting across the table. With warmth. With care. With encouragement. These moments don’t always scale, but they matter. 

This is often how growth happens. Slowly. Quietly. Over time. The same way Jesus formed people through relationship, not pressure.

 

Practical Takeaways for Digital Missionaries and Leaders

 

Design your digital spaces for conversation, not just content. Create room for people to respond, reflect, and be known, even if growth feels slower. Train volunteers and moderators to listen before they try to fix. Not every moment needs an answer. Many moments need presence.

Measure faithfulness, not just engagement. Numbers can’t measure trust, patience, or transformation. Some of the most meaningful ministry moments will never show up in analytics.

And resist the pull of comparison.

Following Jesus doesn’t require you to keep up with everyone else. It requires you to be faithful with what you’ve been given.

 

A Final Encouragement

 

If you’re leading in digital ministry, you don’t need a bigger platform.

You need a table.

You don’t need to perform like everyone else or measure your worth by someone else’s metrics. You need to create space where people feel safe enough to stay, honest enough to speak, and welcome enough to return.

That’s where Jesus often worked.

Not in polished moments or perfect settings, but in ordinary spaces where people felt seen and heard.

If you’re willing to build tables instead of stages, the work may feel slower and quieter.

However, it may also resemble the way Jesus chose to lead.

Steven “Doc” Kelso

Steven “Doc” Kelso is the creator of The Guiding Lantern, a digital ministry that blends leadership education, encouragement, and fantasy through story-driven encouragement. In the “real” world, Steven works in higher education, teaching servant leadership through a range of subjects, from communication skills to theology.