The Connection Corner

He’s a Good Father

Daily Devotional, Heart of the Artist, Stories About Songs

Psalms 103:13 — As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear Him.

Pat Barrett had sung about God his whole life. But when his daughter was born, something in him shifted. As Harper Gray lay asleep, soft and small in his arms, Pat paused mid-prayer.

How am I going to explain God to her?

He had heard it all. God as judge. God as distant. God as angry. He had led worship at dozens of conferences where the message shifted depending on the speaker or the crowd. One week, God was gentle. The next, furious. Disappointed. Hard to please.

But now he was a father. When you’re raising a child, you do not have the luxury of vague beliefs anymore. You need to know who God is not just for your sake, but for theirs too.

In that season of wrestling, Pat sat with his guitar, heart heavy, and out came a lyric more like a sigh than a song.

“I’ve heard a thousand stories of what they think You’re like…”

Meanwhile, his friend Tony Brown had been leading worship in their Atlanta house church, singing a chorus that had been sitting with him for years:

“You’re a good, good Father…”

For Tony, who had grown up without a dad, those words carried deep personal meaning. God was not just a comfort. He was the only Father Tony had ever known.

The two met up, shared what they were wrestling with, and together they finished the song “Good Good Father” with no spotlight in mind.

The song caught on fast—first in their home church, then beyond. Word spread, and one day Chris Tomlin heard it. He called, asked to record it, and the song took on a life of its own. Churches around the world began singing the same simple truth.

But for Pat, the most important moment was still at home. It was hearing Harper Gray sing along. Because that is what he had wanted all along. He wanted his child to grow up with the right story. God is a good father.

Maybe that is what you need, too. Maybe the stories you were told about Him left you unsure, guarded, or aching. But the truth is still true.

God i s not just a good Father in theory. He is a good Father in practice. He is present, attentive, and steady, and He wants to be that to you and for you.

Would you let Him?

LYRICS

VERSE 1
I’ve heard a thousand stories of what they think You’re like
But I’ve heard the tender whisper of love in the dead of night
You tell me that You’re pleased and that I’m never alone

CHORUS
You’re a good, good father
It’s who You are, it’s who You are, it’s who You are
And I’m loved by you
It’s who I am, it’s who I am, it’s who I am

VERSE 2
I’ve seen many searching for answers far and wide
But I know we’re all searching for answers only you provide
‘Cause You know just what we need before we say a word

BRIDGE
You are perfect in all of your ways
You are perfect in all of your ways
You are perfect in all of your ways to us

VERSE 3
Love so undeniable I can hardly speak
Peace so unexplainable I can hardly think
As You call me deeper still
As You call me deeper still
As You call me deeper still
Into love love love

Written By Pat Barrett and Tony Brown

July 27, 2025/by Linda Meyers

Friendship That Brews Hope

Daily Devotional, Sarah Hall

Ecclesiastes 4:9–10 – “Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow.”

I was already halfway to the coffee shop before I realized how heavy my chest felt. It was the kind of heaviness that builds slowly and steadily over time.

But today I had a lifeline. I had a standing coffee date with a friend who knew me—the real me. We always meet in the same spot, bring our kids, and talk for hours.

I parked, lifted Reese from the back seat, and turned to see my friend walking up with her baby in a carrier and a warm smile instantly softening something in me.

We ordered our lattes—mine, honey vanilla over ice—and by some small miracle, our couch was free. The babies wriggled across our laps and played on the rug below.

Between sips of coffee and the comfort of low music playing louder than our voices, I let it all pour out. I told her about the discouragement, the pressure, and my insecurities. And she just listened, really listened.

She didn’t try to fix it, but instead she opened up about her own battles and hard-won victories. She reminded me who God is and what His word said about my circumstances.

Then she asked if she could pray for me.

Tears came quicker than I expected, but I nodded. Of course. Yes. Please. And as she prayed, something loosened inside me. Peace settled in like cool water sinking deep into dry ground.

I stayed quiet for a moment after she prayed, just letting it settle.

Nothing outside had changed, but something inside had. My shoulders softened. The ache in my chest gave way to peace I had not felt in weeks. God was near, and I knew it.

That day, I remembered what I had forgotten: God never intended for us to walk through life alone. He gives us people who carry us to Him when we are too weary to crawl.

So, find those people. When you do, hold onto them because sometimes, the most powerful thing God gives us is not an answer. It’s a friend who prays.

July 26, 2025/by Sarah Hall

Stop Running, Start Resting

Bri Dunn, Daily Devotional

Psalms 46:10 — “Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!”

Ann was elbow-deep in tomatoes at the grocery store when a voice from the past stepped into aisle four.

It was Mrs. Martin, her second-grade music teacher. She had the same no-nonsense expression and same silver hair pulled tight. The only difference were the wrinkles and the orthopedic slippers replacing her old patent pumps.

Just like that, the memories returned. Music class. The rhythm drills. The clapping.

Ann never could get it right. Her classmates moved together in sync, but she always lagged a step behind. Mrs. Martin would pace the front of the room, heels tapping the tile, calling out.

“Beat, beat—rest,” she said. “You have to feel the rest! You cannot feel the rhythm if you do not know when to stop.”

Ann tried, but her timing always felt off. After a while, she stopped trying altogether.

Now in her fifties, she stood in that grocery aisle watching her former teacher, and a quiet thought rose.

I think I finally understand what she meant.

She had not clapped in years, but the pressure to stay in rhythm never left. Life just swapped playgrounds for deadlines. Instead of rhythm drills, it was school pickups, doctor’s appointments, late-night emails, and holidays to plan. Ann kept the pace. She showed up, but underneath it all, she felt like she was always a little behind—missing something she could not name.

Maybe that something had been rest.

Not a nap. Not a vacation. But the kind of stillness that leaves space for breathing, listening, and being.

Lately, she had begun making time for it—ten quiet minutes in the morning, a walk without her phone, a chair by the window in the late afternoon sun. At first, it felt useless, but over time, those moments became something sacred. She felt a different kind of peace began to rise, not from finishing the to-do list, but from laying it down.

And now she could hear it clearly: the rhythm that had always been missing. The rests were not interruptions. They were the invitation.

Ann glanced at Mrs. Martin once more and smiled. Some lessons just take longer to land.

So, friend, if your heart feels out of rhythm, just know that you were you were not created to run without stopping. You were made for a rhythm that includes real rest, and that is not selfish. It is where your soul remembers who God is.

What if you made space for it today? Not someday. Not after everything is done. Just one breath. One quiet prayer and moment of stillness. You might be surprised at the peace you finally feel.

July 25, 2025/by Bri Dunn