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

Isaiah 26:3 — “You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.” 

The dogs were barking at the squirrels and frogs again this morning. Lennox was wanting my attention. My teenage stepdaughter was hunting through my closet for a cardigan. Chris was glued to ESPN, and my hair was refusing to cooperate.

It’s safe to say, Sunday mornings at my house are a bit chaotic these days.

But sometimes, in the midst of the noise, I remember my mom. She would stand near the window on Sunday mornings, playing her flute. She always chose that old hymn that made her smile. I can still imagine her lifting her voice in praise.

“Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face.
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His glory and grace.”

In those moments, everything just settled into peace.

This morning, however, I felt anything but calm. I told Chris to go on without me. We both serve at church, and showing up in a bad mood is never ideal. I just needed a few more minutes to get my life together.

In the stillness that followed, that old hymn crept back into my mind. I felt a gentle question press on my heart: Have you spoken to God yet? It stopped me in my tracks.

It was Sunday, of all days, yet I had rushed right past Him. My eyes had been fixed on the chaos instead of the One who brings peace.

The dogs still barked. The cardigan remained missing. The ESPN highlights rolled on. But somehow, those things seemed smaller when I turned my eyes back where they belonged.

If your life feels loud and chaotic like mine does, know this: there is another way to see it. When you lift your eyes to Him, the noise fades into the background. The chaos shrinks, and the peace grows. So, take a deep breath and look up. Let Him carry the weight that was never yours to bear alone.

Turn your eyes to Him, and watch the chaos shrink in the light of His grace.

 

LYRICS

O soul, are you weary and troubled?
No light in the darkness you see?
There’s light for a look at the Savior,
And life more abundant and free!

Refrain:
Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His glory and grace.

Through death into life everlasting
He passed, and we follow Him there;
O’er us sin no more hath dominion—
For more than conqu’rors we are!

His Word shall not fail you—He promised;
Believe Him, and all will be well:
Then go to a world that is dying,
His perfect salvation to tell!

Hymn by Helen H. Lemmel

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

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

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

Hebrews 12:2 – “Looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.”

The church was packed, but, on that stage, George Bennard stood alone.

They hadn’t come to hear the gospel. They’d come to laugh at it.

He left that revival early, the mocking still ringing in his ears. That night, holed up in a small Michigan room with nothing but his Bible and a broken spirit, George begged God for clarity. Not success. Not comfort. This hurt, and he just needed something true to stand on.

What came was a vision—not with his eyes, but with his soul. He saw Jesus on the cross.

Not shining. Bleeding.

“On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross,
The emblem of suff’ring and shame…”

And George wept. The world called it shame. But for him, it was love. Love that bled for mockers and missionaries alike.

“And I love that old cross where the dearest and best
For a world of lost sinners was slain.”

He stopped asking God to change the crowd. He asked to be changed instead. He set down his need for recognition and picked up the weight of a message the world might always reject.

“So I’ll cherish the old rugged cross,
Till my trophies at last I lay down…”

The lyrics came fast after that. He scribbled them on torn paper with trembling hands. Weeks later, the hymn began to spread like fire. But George never pointed to himself—only to the old rugged cross.

It’s easy to forget what the cross really means. We polish it, display it, wear it. But for George, it was the turning point. The reason he kept going when everything in him wanted to quit.

Maybe today you feel tired of doing the right thing. Maybe you’re discouraged, mocked, or just wondering if any of this still matters. Let George’s story remind you:

Jesus is worth it. His love is worth your time, your trust, and your whole life.

So, cling to the cross. Lay your trophies down. Hold fast to what matters most because the world may never understand…

But someday, you’ll exchange it for a crown.

 

Lyrics

On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross,
The emblem of suff’ring and shame,
And I love that old cross where the Dearest and Best
For a world of lost sinners was slain.

CHORUS
So I’ll cherish the old rugged cross,
Till my trophies at last I lay down;
I will cling to the old rugged cross,
And exchange it some day for a crown.

Oh, that old rugged cross, so despised by the world,
Has a wondrous attraction for me;
For the dear Lamb of God left His glory above,
To bear it to dark Calvary.

In the old rugged cross, stained with blood so divine,
A wondrous beauty I see;
For ’twas on that old cross Jesus suffered and died,
To pardon and sanctify me.

Lyrics and Music: George Bennard

Romans 12:12 — Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

She texted me out of the blue.

“Can you pray for me?”

Without hesitation, I replied, “of course,” and then I called her.

The conversation was short. Her voice was guarded, but something in it cracked just enough for light to sneak through. We prayed. She thanked me, and we hung up.

And when I sat back in the silence, I felt it. Something had shifted. Just a little. God was doing something.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

That night, I slipped down to my knees for what must have been the hundredth time. I prayed again: for her healing, for her heart, for the wreckage in her past to stop defining her future. I asked God to help her trust Him again.

Because what good would it do if I gave up now?

When I see her again, I have to blink hard to fight back tears. A lump forms fast in my throat, but I still check in on her like I always do. Gently.

This relationship used to be easy. Sweet, even. But that feels like a lifetime ago. And there they are again, those invisible walls she’s learned to stack like bricks, one cold, polite answer at a time. I pray silently.

God, will You make this better again? Please.

That night, with my heart aching, I almost gave into disappointment. I scrolled my phone, trying to outrun my feelings, but there it was again, that familiar nudge in my spirit to pray. It was the kind that won’t let me stay comfortable.

So, I dropped to my knees again. I wept, and God met me there. Again.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

He reminded me of that brave text last night, that prayer call, and that softening in her voice. He’s not done with her.

And suddenly, that was enough.

So, friends, what I am learning is don’t stop praying. Let your knees hit the floor a thousand times if they need to. Keep trusting that beyond what your eyes can see, God is moving mountains in the hearts of those you love.

Because hope isn’t just a feeling. It’s a decision that sounds like this.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

 

Lyrics:

What’s your impossible
Your “I need a miracle”
What’s got you barely hanging by a single thread
What looks so hopeless now
What weighs down your heart with doubt
You beg for a breakthrough but no sign of breakthrough yet

When you’ve cried and you’ve cried til your tears run dry
The answer won’t come and you don’t know why
And you wonder if you can bow your head even one more time

Don’t stop praying
Don’t stop calling on Jesus name
Keep on pounding on heaven’s door
Let your knees wear out the floor
Don’t stop believing
‘Cause mountains move with just a little faith
And your Father’s heard every single word you’re saying
So, don’t stop praying

He’s close to the brokenhearted
Saves those who are crushed in spirit
The Alpha and Omega knows how your story ends

When you’ve cried and you’ve cried til your tears run dry
The answer won’t come and you don’t know why
And you wonder if you can bow your head even one more time
Oh, do it one more time

And don’t stop praying
Don’t stop calling on Jesus name
Keep on pounding on heaven’s door
Let your knees wear out the floor
Don’t stop believing
‘Cause mountains move with just a little faith
And your Father’s heard every single word you’re saying
So, don’t stop praying

(Don’t stop don’t stop praying)
Oh
(Don’t stop don’t stop praying)
Oh, don’t stop praying
(Don’t stop don’t stop praying)
Oh (Oh)

Don’t stop praying for the prodigal
Don’t stop praying for the miracle
Hallelujah, hallelujah and amen

Don’t stop praying that addictions end
Don’t stop praying for deliverance
Hallelujah, hallelujah and amen

Oh, don’t stop praying for the sickness healed
Don’t stop praying for His power revealed
Hallelujah, hallelujah and amen

No, don’t stop praying for the kingdom come
Don’t stop praying that his will be done
Hallelujah, hallelujah and amen

Don’t stop praying
Don’t stop calling on Jesus name
Keep on pounding on heaven’s door
Let your knees wear out the floor
Don’t stop believing
‘Cause mountains move with just a little faith
And your Father’s heard every single word you’re saying
So, don’t stop praying

(Don’t stop don’t stop praying)
(Don’t stop don’t stop praying)
Oh, don’t stop praying
(Don’t stop don’t stop praying)
Don’t you give up now (Oh)
No, don’t stop praying

Music by Matthew West performing “Don’t Stop Praying”
(C) 2024 Provident Label Group LLC, a division of Sony Music Entertainment
#MatthewWest #ChristianMusic #DontStopPraying

Matthew 5:44 — “But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”

It was just another Tuesday in the studio. Switches flipped, headphones on, songs queued. I was scanning emails and half-listening when Phil Wickham’s The Jesus Way came through the speakers.

I’ve heard it before (dozens of times, probably). But that day, it just hit differently.

“If you curse me, then I will bless you.
If you hurt me, I will forgive.
And if you hate me, then I will love you.
I choose the Jesus way.”

And suddenly I thought:
Wait. Would I actually do that?

I was flabbergasted. Because my honest answer was, “Absolutely not.”

Not if I’ve been hurt.
Not if I’ve been overlooked or disrespected.
Not when it means blessing someone who lied to me.
Not when it means forgiving someone who never said sorry.

But I couldn’t shake the question. I felt like God was tugging at something in me, asking me to stop pretending I had this Jesus thing figured out. I had convinced myself I was already living that way, but I wasn’t. I was saying the right things, but not living them.

Because the Jesus way? It’s not always easy or aesthetic. It is messy and complicated and sometimes downright painful. And sometimes, saying yes to Jesus means saying yes to being misunderstood, to letting go of grudges, and to loving people who won’t love me back.

It means keeping your spiritual ear tuned even when everything in you wants to shut down. It means choosing to bless someone who might never know the cost of that choice.

So, I prayed right there in the studio. Lord, I don’t know how to love like that, but I want to. Help me to do it…even if it hurts.

I don’t know exactly where that prayer will take me, but I know this. The Jesus way isn’t about what we say we believe. It isn’t a one-time decision. It is an ongoing invitation to choose love when it feels unfair.

And if you’re like me—if you’ve ever convinced yourself you’re living this way but secretly know you’re not—maybe this is your moment too.

No, it’s not easy.
It may even invite pain.

But it’s the Jesus way.
And it’s worth it.

Lyrics:

If you curse me then I will bless you
If you hurt me I will forgive
And if you hate me then I will love you
I choose the Jesus way

If you’re helpless I will defend you
And if you’re burdened I’ll share the weight
And if you’re hopeless then let me show you
There’s hope in the Jesus way

I follow Jesus
I follow Jesus
He wore my sin
I’ll gladly wear His name
He is the treasure
He is the answer
Oh I choose the Jesus way

If you strike me I will embrace you
And if you chain me I’ll sing His praise
And if you kill me my home is heaven
For I choose the Jesus way

I follow Jesus
I follow Jesus
He wore my sin
I’ll gladly wear His name
He is the treasure
He is the answer
Oh I choose the Jesus way

I choose surrender
I choose to love
Oh God my Savior
You’ll always be enough
I choose forgiveness
I choose grace
I choose to worship
No matter what I face

I choose the Jesus way
I choose the Jesus way
I choose the Jesus way
I choose the Jesus way

I follow Jesus
I follow Jesus
He wore my sin
I’ll gladly wear His name
He is the treasure
He is the answer
Oh I choose the Jesus way

I follow Jesus
I follow Jesus
He wore my sin
I’ll gladly wear His name
He is the treasure
He is the answer
Oh I choose the Jesus way
Oh I choose the Jesus way
#PhilWickham #TheJesusWay

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

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