The Unbreakable House of the Lord

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1 Corinthians 3:16 — “Do you not know that you are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in you?”

Do you remember the day the world shut down? It felt like a single, collective gasp. Stores closed their doors, streets emptied, and even the churches locked their gates.

I remember standing there, staring at my calendar that had just gone blank. Concerts, church services, small group gatherings—canceled overnight. Plans evaporated, and the sense of normalcy we clung to vanished in an instant.

I asked myself, “What does church look like now?”

But then I started to notice the small things. My wife’s smile as we walked the neighborhood. A neighbor’s wave from a safe distance. A phone call that turned into an unexpected lifeline. Even behind masks, I saw the same eyes of kindness and compassion that had always been there.

It dawned on me that the house of the Lord was not bricks and wood. It was us—ordinary people carrying God’s presence into the everyday. COVID-19 did not cancel that. It revealed it.

That was the moment my song “House of the Lord” came to life. I wanted to sing about the real church. It’s the one that cannot be shut down by a virus or anything else. It’s a family that laughs and cries together, that keeps showing up even when the world feels shaky.

Even with the “new normal” now behind us, I keep hearing “House of the Lord” on the radio, and I remember that the truest kind of worship is not found in the stage or the pew. It is found wherever we choose to love each other, to stand together, and to encourage each other in the Lord.

The body of Christ is a family that stands strong through every season. That is the house of the Lord, and it is waiting for you to find your place in it, no matter where you are today.

— Phil Wickham

Lyrics

Verse
We worship the God who was
We worship the God who is
We worship the God who evermore will be
He opened the prison doors
He parted the raging sea
Our God He holds the victory

Chorus
There’s joy In the house of the Lord
There’s joy in the house of the Lord today
And we won’t be quiet
We shout out Your praise
There’s Joy in the house of the Lord
Our God is surely in this place
And we won’t be quiet
We shout out Your praise
We shout out Your praise

Verse
We sing to the God who heals
We sing to the God who saves
We sing to the God who always makes a way
He hung upon that cross
Then He rose up from that grave
My God’s still rolling stones away

Chorus
There’s joy In the house of the Lord
There’s joy in the house of the Lord today
And we won’t be quiet
We shout out Your praise
There’s Joy in the house of the Lord
Our God is surely in this place
And we won’t be quiet
We shout out Your praise

Bridge
We were the beggars
Now we’re royalty
We were the prisoners
Now we’re running free
We are forgiven, accepted
Redeemed by His grace
Let the house of the Lord sing praise

Cause we were the beggars
Now we’re royalty
We were the prisoners
Now we’re running free
We are forgiven, accepted
Redeemed by His grace
Let the house of the Lord sing praise

Chorus
There’s joy In the house of the Lord
There’s joy in the house of the Lord today
And we won’t be quiet
We shout out Your praise
There’s Joy in the house of the Lord
Our God is surely in this place
And we won’t be quiet
We shout out Your praise

There’s joy In the house of the Lord
There’s joy in the house of the Lord today
And we won’t be quiet
We shout out Your praise
There’s Joy in the house of the Lord
Our God is surely in this place
And we won’t be quiet
We shout out Your praise
We shout out Your praise
We shout out Your praise
We shout out Your praise

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Hold Tight to the One Who Calls You His

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Isaiah 43:1b – “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.”

I used to think the perfect vacation meant white sand beaches, sunshine, and a good book. But when you’re a girl dad, vacation often means something else entirely—like shopping. And lots of it. That’s how I ended up in the heart of New York City, weaving through streets with my daughters, surrounded by endless storefronts and towering skyscrapers.

One evening, we stepped into the pulse of Times Square. It was a sensory overload—neon lights, shouting street performers, protesters, and vendors all competing for attention. The noise pressed in on every side. I felt my daughters’ small hands in mine, and I gripped them tightly.

“Stay close,” I said. The crowd could have easily swallowed them up.

That moment stuck with me—not just because of the chaos, but because of the clarity it gave me.

The world is a lot like Times Square. Loud. Confusing. Constantly trying to grab our attention and define us. It’s easy to get swept up in the noise. The lies we hear—or even the ones we tell ourselves—can feel louder than the truth. A rough school year can whisper that we’re not enough. A broken home can brand us as unlovable. A divorce can scream that we’re worthless.

And Satan? He thrives in that confusion. If he can convince us to believe a lie about who we are, we might never step into the life God created for us.

But God? He does the opposite. He speaks into the noise, and His voice cuts through with one beautiful truth: You are mine.

He doesn’t call you by your failures. He calls you by your name.

In that moment, holding my daughters’ hands, I knew they were safe as long as they stayed close, and I was reminded that I’m safe, too—as long as I stay close to my Father.

So if the world feels like too much today—if the lies feel louder than the truth—hold tight to the One who calls you His. Let Him remind you who you really are. You are loved. You are redeemed. You are His.

— Matthew West

LYRICS

Hello, my name is regret
I’m pretty sure we have met
Every single day of your life
I’m the whisper inside
Won’t let you forget

Hello, my name is defeat
I know you recognize me
Just when you think you can win
I’ll drag you right back down again
‘Til you’ve lost all belief
These are the voices,
these are the lies
And I have believed them,
for the very last time

Hello, my name is child of the one true king
I’ve been saved, I’ve been changed, and I have been set free
Amazing grace is the song I sing
Hello, my name is child of the one true king
I am no longer defined
By all the wreckage behind
The one who makes all things new
Has proven it’s true
Just take a look at my life

Hello, my name is child of the one true king
I’ve been saved, I’ve been changed, and I have been set free
Amazing grace is the song I sing
Hello, my name is child of the one true king

What a love the Father has lavished upon us
That we should be called his children
I am a child of the one true King
What a love the Father has lavished upon us
That we should be called his children

Hello, my name is child of the one true king
I’ve been saved, I’ve been changed, and I have been set free
Amazing grace is the song I sing
Hello, my name is child of the one true king
I am a child of the one true king

Music video by Matthew West performing Hello, My Name Is (Lyrics).

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In Christ Alone

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John 14:6 — Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

Keith Getty didn’t want to play it safe. Not with his faith, and definitely not with his music. He’d watched too many church songs drift toward shallow waters. Many songs were big on feeling, but light on truth. And something in him stirred. There had to be more.

One afternoon, over coffee, he told his friend Stuart Townend about a few melodies he’d been working on. He promised to send him a CD.

When Stuart popped it into his player days later, the first track made him pause. He sat back, listening carefully. There’s something about this, he thought. There’s something quite eternal and enduring.

He called Keith. They spoke at length about what the melody could hold. Stuart said what they were both thinking, “What if this song traced the whole story of Jesus—His life, death, resurrection—and what that means for us today?”

Stuart took the idea and ran. He wrote with purpose, determined to lay out the faith clearly—verse by verse, doctrine by doctrine—yet in a way anyone could understand. The lyrics poured out, beginning not with the believer, but with Christ Himself.

Some warned them that writing modern hymns was a dead end. But the song took off like wildfire—across churches, denominations, even generations. It taught people the faith. It comforted the doubting. It fed the hungry, and it sparked a whole movement of rich, theological worship for a new era.

They had hoped to write one good song. Instead, they helped reintroduce depth to worship. This was not because they tried to be revolutionary, but because they stayed rooted in scripture.

In the end, Keith and Stuart marveled at the beauty of a simple truth: the story of Christ changes lives. It was not enough to water it down. It was not enough to be half-sure. People needed the whole story—unashamed and unedited. That was the news that turned searching souls into believers, and that was the song’s greatest gift.

May you hold that same resolve. Do not shrink back. Share the story that brings hope, because this world still needs the light that only truth can bring.

 

LYRICS

In Christ alone my hope is found;
He is my light, my strength, my song;
This cornerstone, this solid ground,
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm.
What heights of love, what depths of peace,
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease!
My comforter, my all in all—
Here in the love of Christ I stand.

In Christ alone, Who took on flesh,
Fullness of God in helpless babe!
This gift of love and righteousness,
Scorned by the ones He came to save.
Till on that cross as Jesus died,
The wrath of God was satisfied;
For ev’ry sin on Him was laid—
Here in the death of Christ I live.

There in the ground His body lay,
Light of the world by darkness slain;
Then bursting forth in glorious day,
Up from the grave He rose again!
And as He stands in victory,
Sin’s curse has lost its grip on me;
For I am His and He is mine—
Bought with the precious blood of Christ.

No guilt in life, no fear in death—
This is the pow’r of Christ in me;
From life’s first cry to final breath,
Jesus commands my destiny.
No pow’r of hell, no scheme of man,
Can ever pluck me from His hand;
Till He returns or calls me home—
Here in the pow’r of Christ I’ll stand.

Words and Music by Keith Getty & Stuart Townend

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Stand in the Gap

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I’ll never forget the day my son, Alvin III, announced he was moving to Australia.

He was in his mid-twenties. Sharp-minded. Kind-hearted. Talented.

He had earned a music degree and was passionate about writing and producing. He entered competitions, wrote secular music, and spent his free time with people who didn’t love Jesus. No, he wasn’t running wild, but he wasn’t walking toward the Light either.

So, he packed his bags and left Nashville for Melbourne—a move that felt like a whole world away from everything we had taught him.

I wanted to reach across oceans and pull him back. But I couldn’t. And that’s when I realized I was fighting a battle I couldn’t see with my eyes. I prayed every day that God would watch over him.

My son later told me, “Mom, I told God, ‘Whoever gets me first, You or the Devil, that’s the way I’m going to go.”

Had I known that at the time, my heart would have sunk, but in hindsight, I’m grateful I didn’t. It forced me to keep praying in faith, not in fear. And it reminded me of what’s really at stake. We’re not battling bad decisions. We’re standing between our loved ones and an enemy who wants their hearts.

The older I get, the more I believe it’s true: there’s a real war waging over the next generation. It’s not obvious at first glance, but underneath the distractions, anxiety, self-doubt, and silence, there’s a tug-of-war for their souls.

That’s where we come in.

You and I—we are the gap-standers. We hold the line when our kids feel nothing. We pray when they don’t want us to. We fast when we don’t see results. We speak life even when their choices break our hearts.

So don’t give up. Suit up.

There’s a battle raging, and your prayers may be the very thing that tips the scale.

— CeCe Winans

 

Lyrics:

Sometimes I fall to my knees and pray
Come Jesus come
Let today be the day
Sometimes I feel like I’m gonna break
But I’m holding on
To a hope that won’t fade

Come Jesus come
We’ve been waiting so long
For the day You return
To heal every hurt
And right every wrong
We need You right now
Come and turn this around
Deep down I know
This world isn’t home
Come Jesus come

There’ll be no war
And there’ll be no chains
When Jesus comes
Let today be the day
He’ll come for the weak
And the strong just the same
And all will believe
In the power of His name

Come Jesus come
We’ve been waiting so long
For the day You return
To heal every hurt
And right every wrong
We need You right now
Come and turn this around (turn this around)
Deep down I know
This world isn’t home
Come Jesus come
Come Jesus come

One day He’ll come
And we’ll stand face to face
Come and lay it all down
Cause it might be today
The time is right now
There’s no need to wait
Your past will be wash by rivers of grace

Come Jesus come
We’ve been waiting so long
For the day You return
To heal every hurt
And right every wrong
We need You right now
Come and turn this around (turn this around)
Deep down I know
This world isn’t home
Come Jesus come
Come Jesus come
Come Jesus come

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Prayer that Changes Everything

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James 5:16 — “The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working.”

I had to put my phone down. Not out of discipline or digital detox—I just couldn’t stomach what I was seeing anymore.

I was sitting backstage between shows on the Hits Deep tour with TobyMac, but then I read about the horrific school shooting in Nashville at The Covenant School. Three children. Three adults. A place that should’ve been safe. My chest felt heavy, the kind of weight that steals your breath without asking.

The headlines alone were gutting, but it was the comment section that knocked the wind out of me.

“Thoughts and prayers,” someone had written, emojis dripping sarcasm.

“Oh great, that’ll fix everything.” said another.

My chest tightened. Did people really think prayer was useless?

I thought of my mama. I had caught her more times than I could count bent at the edge of her bed whispering prayers. I knew those prayers had carried me through every heartache and sleepless night, and, without her, I would not even know Jesus.

Grief and gratitude tangled inside me. The tragedy was real, the loss unimaginable. But those memories of Mama’s prayers were a good reminder. If God had moved mountains before, He would do it again.

Backstage before the next show, I closed my eyes and prayed—hard—for the grieving families, for the kids who’d never come home, for a cynical world that had forgotten how to hope.

And that’s when the song started to form in my mind. I carried it with me all the next day, humming it under my breath. That night, I picked up my guitar and wrote the song Somebody Prayed.

Friend, if you know Jesus, it’s because somebody prayed for you. Maybe it was your grandma on a creaky porch swing or a friend on their knees. Don’t underestimate what those prayers can do.

Let’s be the ones who hold up the hurting in a world that’s lost its way. Let’s believe—together—that prayer isn’t a cliché or a last resort. It’s the one thing that can change the world, one desperate, hope-filled cry at a time.

— David Crowder

 

 

LYRICS:
Somebody Prayed
Every night there by your bed
You fold your hands and bow your head
Throwing out another prayer in faith
When you wonder if He’s hearing you
Look at me I’m living proof
I’m only right where I am today
Because somebody prayed

So I hit my knees
Cause I’ve seen all heaven move
(Don’t matter if you hit rock bottom,
My God pick you up when you call Him)
I pray, Father please
Cause I’ve seen what He can do
(Don’t matter if the storm cloud coming,
My God come through when you call Him)
These hands have no power
But there ain’t an hour He don’t come through
That’s why when mountains move I say
Looks like somebody prayed

For the child of God that’s far from home
The one who thinks they’re too far gone
I’m throwing out another prayer in faith
Worn out altars, tear stained pews
Still I won’t give up on you
I believe that anything can change
When somebody prays

I’ve seen miracles come from feeble words
I’ve seen hospital rooms turned into cathedrals
And I’ve seen freedom come to the prisoner
You can’t tell me that prayer don’t work

Every night there by your bed
When you fold your hands and bow your head
Not a single word you’ve ever said in vain
Cause He hears everything

Music video by Crowder performing Somebody Prayed. © 2024 sixstepsrecords LLC and Capitol CMG, Inc

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Thriving Through Life’s Trials

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Psalms 42:11 — “Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise Him, my salvation and my God.”

The night I discovered I had cancer, I sat down at the piano. That’s how songwriters bleed. We bleed songs. I started writing out my feelings, and a song called “O My Soul” began to emerge.

It captured my inner turmoil—a battle with myself—reminiscent of some of King David’s verses in the book of Psalms.

I felt like I was walking through fog. Everything was loud, disorienting, and out of control. But somewhere beneath all that fear and shock, something inside me held firm. And I don’t say that to sound spiritual or strong. I didn’t feel either of those things.

But what I did feel, buried beneath the panic, was something steady. Something rooted. It was Jesus. He was the same God I had spent years getting to know in the quiet.

Long before the diagnosis, I had sensed God calling me—and our band—to something deeper. Not just to sing about faith, but to live like it was anchored in something that couldn’t be shaken.

That became the heartbeat of our ministry: Thrive.

That’s also the origin of a special line in the song I wrote that night: “There’s a place where fear has to face the God you know.”

I can’t explain it, but those words reminded me that the storm didn’t get to define my story. Fear would have to bow to something greater.

I didn’t thrive that night because I was brave or strong or ready. I thrived because what I knew about God was already rooted deep in my bones.

And now, I want to ask you what I had to ask myself: What are you building your life on?

Friend, if life feels calm right now, this is the best time to get to know Him. Because the storms are coming for all of us. If you’re planted in Him, really planted, you won’t be moved.

Not because you’re strong.

But because He is.

— Mark Hall

Oh My Soul

Oh my soul, oh how you worry
Oh how you’re weary from fearing you lost control
This was the one thing you didn’t see coming
And no one would blame you though
If you cried in private
If you tried to hide it away
So no one knows
No one will see if you stop believing

Oh my soul
You are not alone
There’s a place where fear
Has to face the God you know
One more day
He will make a way
Let Him show you how
You can lay this down

‘Cause you’re not alone

Here and now, you can be honest
I won’t try to promise
That someday it all works out
‘Cause this is the valley
And even now He is breathing on
Your dry bones
And there will be dancing
There will be beauty where beauty was
Ash and stone
This much I know

Oh my soul
You are not alone
There’s a place where fear
Has to face the God you know
One more day
He will make a way
Let Him show you how
You can lay this down

I’m not strong enough
I can’t take anymore
(You can lay it down
You can lay it down)
And my shipwrecked faith
Will never get me to shore
(You can lay it down
You can lay it down)
Can He find me here?
Can He keep me from going under?

Oh my soul
You are not alone
There’s a place where fear
Has to face the God you know
One more day
He will make a way
Let Him show you how
You can lay this down

‘Cause you’re not alone

Oh my soul, you’re not alone

Written by: Mark Hall, Bernie Herms

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What Faith Sounds Like in the Dark

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Psalms 119:50 — This is my comfort in my affliction, that your promise gives me life.

No one talks about the silence after a funeral. It is the kind that wraps around your ribcage and squeezes, the kind that makes you forget how to pray.

After TobyMac’s son, Truett, died from an accidental overdose, he knew people meant well. They quoted verses and reminded him of Heaven, but they hadn’t buried their sons. They hadn’t sat on their child’s bed, with sheets still rumpled, wondering how the world could possibly go on.

There was no song to sing. No words were big enough, and no melody was brave enough. The truth was simple and terrible: his son had died, and no amount of faith could make this less awful.

Weeks passed. Then months. And when he finally walked into his first writing session since it all fell apart, he wasn’t sure why he was there. He still felt hollow.

But something happened in that room. He sat down with a few chords, a few unfinished thoughts. What poured out wasn’t polished or planned. It was raw and quiet—an ache turned into lyrics. And the song that came to life that day was called “Faithfully.”

He wrote it because he needed to. He needed a reminder of what he believed… even when he didn’t feel it.

“But when my world broke into pieces
You were there faithfully
When I cried out to You, Jesus
You made a way for me
I may never be the same man
But I’m a man who still believes
When I cried out to You, Jesus
You were there faithfully”

As the song played back, he let the tears fall. That’s when he knew. This was a gift. Not a fix, not an answer—just a lifeline. A melody for the midnight hour. He hadn’t expected “Faithfully” to become the anchor he’d need, but God did.

And maybe you’re in a place like that now. Gutted. Like your world doesn’t make sense. Like God is a million miles away. If so, let this be a hand on your shoulder.

The truth is, God loves you. And He is still holding on. Faithfully.

This is what Toby discovered in that dark stretch of road. Not all prayers get answers. Not all stories get neat endings. But even then, God is good. He won’t abandon you in your pain. If that’s all you can hold onto right now, believe me, that’s enough.

Lyrics:
It’s been a long year; it almost took me down I swear
Life was so good, I’m not so sure we knew what we had
I’ll never be the same man, I’ll never feel like I felt before
It’s been a hard year, it almost took me down

But when we my world broke into pieces
You were there faithfully
When I cried out to you Jesus
You made a way for me

I may never be the same man
But I’m a man who still believes
When I cried out to you Jesus
You were there faithfully

I’ve had a hard time, finding the blue in the skies above me
And if I’m keeping it real, I’ve been half fakin’ the happy they see
I may look like the same man, but I’m half the man I was
It’s been a hard year it almost took me down

In my darkest hour, You met me
So quietly, so gently
You said You’d never leave, and You stood by Your word

So quietly, so gently
In all my pain, You met me
You said You’d never leave, and You stood by Your word

Songwriters: Kyle Williams / Toby McKeehan

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My Name Is Son

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1 John 3:1 – “See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are.”

They say you can’t miss what you never had, but that’s not true. I missed my dad—even when he was standing in the same room.

I grew up on a dairy farm in southern Vermont. We worked hard. We didn’t talk much. My dad was a man of few words, and I spent most of my boyhood trying to earn one of them. I just wanted to hear that he was proud of me. That I was enough.

But silence echoed louder than any shout.

By the time I was a teenager, the ache in my chest had a name: not good enough. And I learned how to quiet it. First with small lies. Then with alcohol. Then cocaine. Numb was better than nothing. High was easier than hurt.

I wasn’t chasing a thrill. I was running from the boy who never heard the words he needed most.

From the outside, I was the life of the party. Inside, I was unraveling.

Things got dark fast. Addiction doesn’t care if you’re from a good home. It doesn’t care if your mama prayed for you. It just takes. I was burning bridges with everyone I loved, and I didn’t care. I didn’t want to feel anything anymore.

Then came 2017.

My best friend—my anchor, really—died of a heroin overdose. I remember standing at his funeral, heart cracked open, wondering how I’d made it out alive when he didn’t. That was my rock bottom.

I wanted more. I needed more, and I reached for God. It was not with clean hands or a perfect prayer but with honest weakness. To my surprise, He met me there with the kind of love I had tried to earn my whole life.

I love you. I’m proud of you. You’re my son.

It undid me. I wasn’t the addict. I wasn’t the disappointment. I wasn’t just my dad’s silence or my worst mistake. I had a new name now. A new identity. Son.

That word changed everything.

I started writing songs, not for radio play or applause, but because I needed to speak the truth out loud—about pain, about healing, about God. Every time I write, I remember what freedom feels like. And I want others to know it too.

Because here’s the truth: no matter what your dad did or didn’t say, you already have a Father who loves you. He’s not ashamed of you. He’s not withholding anything. And He’s not going anywhere.

You’re not forgotten. You’re not too far gone.

Your name is Daughter. Your name is Son.

— Ben Fuller

 

Who I Am

I stand in front the mirror, But I don’t like who’s looking back at me
Wish I could see things clearer, like who I’m supposed to be
In every trial, lift me higher
Through the fire, hold me tighter
Remind me again, I was made for more

Who I am in the eyes of the Father, Who I am His love set free
Who I was I left at the altar, I am Yours Lord, I believe

It’s who I am – I’m a child of the most-high God and the most-high God’s for me
It’s who I am – I’m a child of the most-high God and the most-high God’s for me

Everything has been changing, You haven’t left a stone unturned
Anything I’ve been facing, I’ll keep standing on Your word
In the water, take me under
Fill my lungs to, to speak Your wonder
You brought me of the darkness, I was made for more

Who I am in the eyes of the father, Who I am His love set free
Who I was I left at the altar, I am Yours Lord I believe

It’s who I am – I’m a child of the most-high God and the most-high God’s for me
It’s who I am – I’m a child of the most-high God and the most-high God’s for me

You gave up everything, for me to have everything
For all of eternity, a song in my lungs to sing

I’m a child of the most-high God and the most-high God’s for me
I’m a child of the most-high God and the most-high God’s for me

Songwriters: Ben Fuller, David Spencer, Krystal Polychronis

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Breathe In His Presence

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2 Corinthians 3:17 “Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.”

If you had asked her, Marie would’ve said she was a wife, a friend, and a worship leader, maybe. But not a songwriter, and certainly not anyone famous.

She felt more at home in ballet studios and church pews than anywhere else. Her days were spent teaching dance, folding laundry, and loving people. Her ministry happened in bare feet and ballet mirrors. Quiet, hidden, holy.

Then came the phone call that changed everything.

Her mentor—a man she cared deeply about, who had once come to church with her— died by suicide. He left behind a note asking Marie to take over the dance studio. No warning. Just grief. And a heavy set of keys.

There was no manual for that kind of loss. No training for how to carry someone else’s legacy when your own knees feel weak beneath you. But Marie kept showing up.

She kept teaching. Pliés in the morning, worship services on Sundays, prayer when she had the words—and when she didn’t, she just whispered the name of Jesus. She didn’t need a spotlight to serve. She just needed space to breathe.

One Sunday night at the Mission Viejo Vineyard in Southern California, there was no plan—no printed setlist. Just Marie and her husband, John, leading worship as they’d done so many times before. They had just finished singing Isn’t He by John Wimber. John kept playing quietly, and in the stillness of that moment, something welled up in Marie’s spirit. It wasn’t rehearsed. It wasn’t planned.

It was just raw worship.

“This is the air I breathe
This is the air I breathe
Your holy presence
Living in me…
And I, I’m desperate for you
And I, I’m lost without you”

The congregation joined in, as if the words had been waiting in their hearts too. And even though Marie had sung spontaneous songs before, something about this one was different. People kept singing it—at home, in the car, in the grocery store. And they told her so.

The song, Breathe, soon became a regular part of their church’s worship. It brought many to tears. Even Marie could hardly get through it herself. “I think the word desperate digs deep into me,” she later said. “The longer I’m a Christian, the more desperate I am for God.”

They recorded the song for Vineyard—just another quiet offering during a season of raw worship. “We recorded the song for Vineyard, and then nothing happened,” Marie would later say. “Not that I thought anything about it, because, to me, it was just a neat thing the Lord gave to our church.”

Five years passed.

Then worship leader Brian Doerksen reached out, asking to include Breathe on Vineyard’s Hungry project. From there, the song quietly began to travel. Michael W. Smith recorded it on his 2001 album Worship. Rebecca St. James followed. But even as it began to echo through churches and concerts around the world, Marie stayed grounded in what it had always been: a prayer whispered in desperation, not a platform.

So when she was driving one day and heard Breathe playing on the radio, it wasn’t excitement that overtook her—it was awe. She pulled the car over, buried her face in her hands, and wept.

Because somehow—somehow—God had taken her lowest moment, her heartbreak, her whispered worship, and turned it into healing for strangers she’d never meet.

How could God take so much pain and breathe hope through it into kitchens and traffic jams and hospital waiting rooms? But He did. He always does. He fills the cracks and carries what we can’t.

Sometimes the Holy Spirit shows up like wind and fire. But more often, He’s as close as breath in our lungs. He doesn’t wait for us to be strong—He fills the places where we’re trembling and somehow gives us the strength to dance again.

Take a deep breath today. Let it remind you that you are not alone. Even when you’re weak, He is near—and that is more than enough.

— Inspired by the story of Marie Barnett

L Y R I C S:

This is the air I breathe
This is the air I breathe
Your Holy Presence
Living in me

This is my daily bread
This is my daily bread
Your very Word
Spoken to me

And I, I’m desperate for you
And I, I’m lost without you

Written by: Marie Barnett
Copyright © 1995 Mercy/Vineyard Songs (ASCAP) (adm at IntegratedRights.com) CCLI#1874117

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What Happens When You Are Available

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Isaiah 6:8 – And I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” Then I said, “Here I am! Send me.”

Eighth grade was a big year for me.

It was the summer I found myself kneeling under a tree at youth camp. I was far enough away from the noise to think yet close enough to still hear the music drifting from the chapel.

I did not know how to pray the right way. I just knew I needed to talk to the One who made all of this—the trees, the sky, and somehow, even me.

I remember looking up and saying, “God, I know You’re the Creator of all things. I have no idea if You can even hear me, but I’m available.”

I meant it. Every word.

When I went back to school that fall, the world around me looked the same—rows of lockers, math homework, everyday middle school chaos. But inside, something had shifted. I began talking to God more in private. Again, my prayers were not eloquent. Most days, they were just raw honesty. Still, I kept showing up and kept staying open.

Years have passed since that summer, but I still remember what it felt like to pray that first real prayer. Today, I get to write songs that help people talk to God. That still stuns me. Not because I think I have earned it, but because it reminds me how powerful one simple moment of surrender can be.

Most of the songs I write are still just prayers like the one under that tree.

Maybe that is the point. So, if you are wondering what comes next or whether God still has something for you, start there.

Get honest. Get still. Ask Him what He wants.

You do not have to map it all out. You just have to stay open. The Creator who made you already knows exactly what He’s doing.

He always has, and He always will.

— Chris Tomlin

LYRICS:

Verse 1
A thousand generations falling down in worship
To sing the song of ages to the Lamb
And all who’ve gone before us and all who will believe
Will sing the song of ages to the Lamb

Pre-Chorus 1
Your name is the highest
Your name is the greatest
Your name stands above them all
All thrones and dominions
All powers and positions
Your name stands above them all

Half-Chorus
And the angels cry, Holy
All creation cries, Holy
You are lifted high, Holy
Holy forever

Verse 2
If you’ve been forgiven and if you’ve been redeemed
Sing the song forever to the Lamb
If you walk in freedom and if you bear His name
Sing the song forever to the Lamb
We’ll sing the song forever and amen

Chorus
Hear your people sing, Holy
To the King of Kings, Holy
You will always be, Holy
Holy forever

Tag
You will always be, Holy
Holy forever

Holy Forever
Written by: Brian Johnson, Chris Tomlin, Jason Ingram, Jenn Johnson, Phil Wickham

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