I met Carl as a teenager when I attended Calvary Chapel Yorba Linda in the Canyon High School gym. I was drawn to his worship leading—it felt sincere, humble, and full of something real. I was mesmerized.
Later, as a young g adult, when I worked for VMI, I had the honor and privilege of editing the worship leader newsletter with him and working closely with him and Randy Rigby on the Touching the Father’s Heart series.
I loved Carl.
He was funny, irreverent, reverent. Real.
What I loved most about him was his authenticity.
After serving as senior pastor of the Vineyard, his life, in his words, fell apart as he knew it.
In the years that followed, I saw a rare kind of honesty emerge. He walked through the unexplainable terrain that life sometimes forces us into—and he didn’t hide. He named what was happening in himself, in his experience with others. He walked with integrity, and I don’t say that lightly. It’s rare.
We had the privilege of producing an album for the label he started, and it was a joy to work with him. He had a way of trusting people, blessing people, that made you rise into yourself.
When he did his solo album with Chris Wimber, he asked me to produce background vocals and some arrangements. That meant a lot to me. He chose people for their heart, not just their resume. I got to see his heart on that record. It was beautiful.
One story I’ve always carried with me: he borrowed money once—meant to be for just a week while he waited on a check from the distributor. The deal fell through. I had put it on a credit card. Carl paid back every penny, and more, out of sheer respect for the inconvenience it caused us. No excuses. He owned it completely.
That kind of follow-through said more to me than a hundred Bible studies ever could. His faith wasn’t performative. He really believed God could provide, heal, and carry us through what we didn’t understand.
I remember once watching a live broadcast of the Pope’s mass. The Popemobile came out blasting “Hosanna,” and hundreds of thousands of people were singing it, jumping up and down. I called Carl and said, You won’t believe what I just saw. He thought I was joking. I sent him the link later. It was real. Something born in his heart had gone out to the entire world. It was stunning.
I loved hearing about his kids and grandkids. His favorite subject. They were everything to him. His family—his children, his sisters—that was his core. He loved people deeply, I’m grateful for every experience I had with him.
To his family: your dad’s love for you was deep and fierce. I remember him saying, my babies, my babies. I remember each birth, his joy. I’m so sorry for your loss. I hope his life leaves you with memories so strong you feel his love still—because that can never be taken