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Imagination
I remember playing this for the first time in (Sparrow’s vice president of A&R) Brad O’Donnell’s living room a year ago. I had been out on the road promoting the first record and wanted to start thinking about the next one before time ran out (I’m an excellent procrastinator).

I felt so nomadic after close to a year of traveling. ‘Journey’ had become a much deeper, richer reality in my life. I had seen things in the world and in myself, both good and bad, that I never noticed before. I was struggling daily with pride and insecurity, homesickness and loneliness… the burden of picking up your cross and following Jesus. And as a result, it produced a new hunger for redemption in me.

I had this piece of music for months that I really liked… the frustrating thing was, I couldn’t get anywhere on the lyric. One afternoon I was in my room and decided to take a stab at the unfinished music again. And in a matter of minutes, the story that I had been longing to tell was somehow scribbled down on the pages of my journal. It’s so amazing to know now that was only the beginning; throughout the entire writing process God provided over and over in the most mysterious and unpredictable ways.

And from that one, simple song came the rest. What I decided to call "Imagination" was finished, and it then seemed like God had begun to flesh out the vision for the rest of the project.

The road between the first record and the second lead me through wildernesses of fear and doubt, climbing up mountains of questions and uncertainty, and to the edge of the most overwhelming freedom.

"Remind me why you woke me up/And why you wake me every morn/The staff in my hand/Held in by your love/Just stay close, stay close...

God’s unearthly grace and immeasurable love for us has lead to this point… it’s been the heartbeat of this whole record. My desire is that it would be a story of hope—one that paints a brutally and beautifully honest picture of what it really is to live by faith.


New

Before the record "officially" began, Brad made the wonderful suggestion that we should get a group together to pray. So Brad, Ed, Al Andrews (founder of Porter’s Call, a ministry to artists in Nashville) and I met one night in the studio…it kind of felt like the deep breath before the plunge. I tried my best to share what my dreams were for the record; where God had taken me recently, what kind of songs were coming out of it. Hours flew by—it was such a sweet time of fellowship and linking arms with each other for the road ahead.

Toward the end of the night Al closed in prayer, and I noticed a couple minutes into it that Ed had pulled out his phone and was writing something down. I wasn’t too surprised by it (the guy is random), but I just hoped that it wasn’t a grocery list or something. The "amen" was said, and Ed looked at us, biting back a smile, and said, "Hey…I think I’ve got something."

I’ll never forget that moment; he picked up a guitar and began to sing to us this ridiculously gorgeous melody. The record had begun.

For some reason, there was a chunk of time when the song was kind of put on the back burner. During that time I wondered if it just wasn’t meant for the record, but in hindsight I think it was simply because God wanted to provide in a better way than what we could ever have hoped for.

One morning in the studio Ed was telling me how he was reading the Chronicles of Narnia with his kids. They were going through "The Magician’s Nephew" and said the chapter they had read the night before was so moving… and, of course, he ended up running over to the house to get it for me so I could be moved by it, too. He read a part of Chapter 8: ‘The Fight at the Lamp Post." It felt like the curtain had been drawn open… the dark of searching and waiting had lifted. The song "New" was born in light of that incredible picture C.S. Lewis painted: God’s gentle voice stirring things into being.

I love the eternal youthfulness of God; the simplicity of His heart. But the uncomfortable thing about seeing that part of Him is that it sheds light on my own heart… it’s grown old. Where I was once fearless and full of faith, I’m now sensibly hesitant.

"Morning brings the hunger for new eyes/That have been covered by the hurt of yesterday/Who could create in my the vision of a little child/It's You..."

I guess you could say I’m learning how to see things fresh and new. His restoration is so bright and simple, standing firm in the middle of all the most raw, wounded places in me.


Vagabond

I played Brad a verse idea the same night I played him "Imagination" – I was calling it "The Missionary Song." It was just a few lines at the time. For the longest time, I had such a heart to write about the saints that serve overseas and risk everything for the Gospel daily.

There’s an organization called Gospel for Asia that my family and I support… they train and send out young men and women to the most unreached area in the world, the 10/40 window. They send out a newsletter a few times a month that’s full of stories that are so hard for my Western-mind to fathom. Men being kidnapped and dragged deep into the jungle, and then miraculously escaping in the middle of the night. Families being freed from spiritual darkness and oppression… horrible sickness leaving the hopeless… the poorest, most persecuted group of people in India (the Dalits) turning to Jesus by the thousands. I can’t help but feel like I’m reading the modern-day book of Acts.

I sensed a burden to tell their story… to share with people the heroic faith of our brothers and sisters that live on the other side of the world.

There was just one problem… I had the first verse, and that was it. For six months I was as stuck as stuck could be. I found out in the process that I’m very good at letting my dreams grow and grow, until it becomes this glorious thing that I know I can never follow through with. So, I brought it to Ed.

We prayed over it, and I gave him GFA’s web address and told him there were hundreds of stories there for him to be inspired by. I also shared with him this picture in my mind of a man climbing mountains, traveling through deserts, walking through the streets and sharing with the broken the hope of Jesus.

My sister and I arrived at the studio the next morning and Ed sang for us the lyrics he had written late that night…

"His book is a gun that he reads for the people/The words that he speaks have been colored illegal/But the law that he's under is bigger than paper and gowns..."

I can’t tell you how amazing that moment was… I thought (in the words of Beth Moore), "God’s just showing off now."


Be Near Me

One of my favorite movies of all time is a film based on Martin Luther’s life, "Luther." It’s so honest. Some of the most compelling scenes are the ones where he is so visibly struggling with the God of the 15^th and 16^th century Catholic Church… wondering if He was really as unfeeling and rigid as he had been taught. In one scene, Martin is burying a young boy in the church cemetery… which was forbidden, because it was a suicide, and suicides were sent to hell. There’s a crowd forming on the street, and he looks out at them and says, "God must be mercy."

Every time I watch that movie, I realize how much I’ve been deceived. I’ve been guilted into believing God is something that He’s never been… hard, cold, and merciless; like a kid with a magnifying glass sitting on top of an anthill.

When Martin Luther read the Gospels for the first time, it changed everything. There’s no possible way to fit into words how desperate I was for that in my own life… to see God not as a tyrant, but as a compassionate Father. I long to be free from all the lies I’ve accepted about Him… to come before Him in all confidence, knowing that nothing but the fiercest love is waiting for me there.

"But all I've ever wanted/And what men have given their lives for/Is a God who understands my weaknesses/A God that I can love..."


The Way I See You (Baby)

Mom says one of the sweetest things about youth is unrequited love… or at least, that’s what she tells me when I come to her completely and pathetically lovesick.

But isn’t it so rooted in who we are; wondering if anyone just notices you when you walk into a room. We’ve been created to desire to have someone’s attention and affection… to completely capture their heart.

"I thought I had my freedom/You didn't even ask/It hit me like a shotgun/Like a cannon blast/You are so elusive/You can be so detached/But from the corner of your eyes, though I saw you look my way/Did you see me looking back..."


All That I Can Do

This past spring Ed played some music for me that he and a friend, Dave Barnes, had written while I was at home in Ohio. I immediately fell in love with it… it was so alive and inviting.

We sat on the deck outside of the studio one afternoon and, yet again, God provided the lyric in just a few hours. The wonderful thing about it was that it echoed our hearts during that frantic time of feeling pressure to finish the record:

"When the waves begin to rise/And all my hope fails/In confidence, I'll close my eyes/Trust You'll be there/Be there..."

I admit that I’m so easily led away by busyness and schedules; I look over the need to trust God and just depend on myself. And the strange thing about it is that only creates more worry and anxiety. I’m learning that the only way true peace can be found is when I let go of my fear and self-sufficiency and hold tight onto Jesus.


Airplane

A few months back, I had written myself a note on a scrap piece of paper and thrown it in the bottomless pit of my book-bag … I think we were in the Nashville airport on a layover or something. There are times when I’ll have a brief moment of what is either creativity or insanity (I’m not sure) in the most peculiar places… it’s always something extremely random that will inspire an idea for a song.

We had talked a lot in the studio about wanting the songs on this record to take a step forward. I knew that I had/have a lot of growing and stretching to do as a writer, but I honestly wasn’t sure where to start. Ed had been encouraging me to push myself to try to begin and finish a brand new song in a couple of days. I could have heard that as a call to greater and deeper things as a writer, but all I heard in my teenage-mind was… homework.

And it just so happened that when I was unpacking a few days later at home, I found this wrinkled up piece of paper; I tried to make out the words I’d written on it… overcast; dropping off baggage; turbulence; babies crying; the sun is always shining even when I can’t see it… As I was reading, I remembered the idea, and the spark of inspiration hit again.

I had been chewing on the thought of writing a story-song about flying for a few weeks… it sounded (and sounds) crazy, I know. But my mind flooded with all the possible directions and pictures that could be painted in it… and so I decided to give it a try.

"In an airplane/I take the window seat/A thousand feet and all I know shrinks in minutes/When the sky is gray/I want to believe/That when the sun is hiding, it still exists..."

And little by little, the quirkiest idea (I think) I’ve ever had somehow turned into a song about hope. I played it for Brad and Ed the next time I was in Nashville, and we started the tweaking process. And thus, my friends, began the week of struggling like I have never struggled before… Ed and I spent three full days looking at the original lyric, trying to pick out the weak spots and make it even better. We all eventually got to the I-want-to-slam-my-fingers-in-a-car-door point, thinking it would never get done. But in the most desperate and exhausted place, God provided.

It’s such a special song to me now because it was absolutely the hardest to finish. Though there was so much stress surrounding it in the beginning, once it was recorded it felt like such a wonderful moment on the record… a place of freedom and peace. Stepping back and looking at it now is a blessing.


My Love Hasn’t Grown Cold

"But then I will lead her back once again. I will lead her out into the desert and speak tenderly to her there. I will return her vineyards to her and transform the Valley of Trouble into a gateway of hope. She will give herself to me there, as she did long ago when she was young, when I freed her from her captivity in Egypt.

"In that coming day, says the Lord, you will call me ‘my husband’ instead of ‘my master.’" (Hosea 2:14-16)

I’m always so afraid to return to God… afraid that He’ll bring up all of my mistakes… afraid that He’ll be tired of being kind and compassionate. I just can’t fathom that God could look past all of my flaws and see the object of His affection completely covered in grace.

"You could steal away in the middle of the night/And hide in the light of day/While you cloak yourself in the darkest lies/But oh, my love swims in the deepest oceans of fear/And as soon as you lower your head/I am here..."

During the season that I wrote this, I was so ashamed of how much I was struggling—embarrassed that I needed so much forgiveness. Passages like this one from Hosea always paint a vivid picture of love in brokenness for me. I love that about Him; that the only reason I love Him is because He first loved me. It’s the eternal mystery of God… that His love for us could never change.


Hallelujah

It’s hysterical how this song came about. Ed and I had been working on a "song" (there wasn’t much to it) for a couple of months but were getting absolutely nowhere with it. I think we were both unsettled about it, but couldn’t really figure out what the problem was. We prayed and prayed that God would provide a lyric, provide a vision for it… but still, nothing.

One particular afternoon an over-all frustration—actually, more like irritation-- for this certain song took hold of the both of us, and we decided to dig in deeper to see what we’d end up with. I said something about not liking the pre-chorus… he said the verses weren’t killing him (yes, it has to "kill" us for it to stay)… and when we really thought about it, the chorus still needed something. So we scrapped it.

Defeat could have settled in, but instead we went out on the deck outside of the studio. Waiting for the Lord to give us some inspiration, we sat down with guitars and tried to come up with new verse ideas. I don’t quite remember who it was that had the idea for the verse melody, but from there we started to write a working lyric. And suddenly, the song began to have a heart beat. We still weren’t sure what the chorus should be, so we just focused on the verses for the time being… but then a few hours later while we were recording the new verse, Ed had yet another stroke of genius: "Hey Beth, what if the song was just called… ‘Hallelujah’?" He totally asked me with that smirk he has when he knows he’s just come up with something really great.

"Hallelujah, hallelujah/When the world is in front of me/Help me to sing hallelujah..."

What a journey writing this was. We call it "the Job song." I love his story—his character of heart actually inspired much of it. I long to have the peace he had in the middle of loss and feeling abandoned by God. I think that’s why it’s so powerful for me to remind myself of God’s sovereign-goodness when a fallen world is standing right in front of me.


I Believe in You

One morning when my sister, Kate, and I arrived at the studio, Ed had had an idea for a new song the night before… he grabbed a guitar and played me this beautiful verse. I remember the first line just killing (there it is!) me:

"When there's nothing to believe in, I believe in you..."

It was crunch time—trying to wrap things up—but we really didn’t feel like we had all the right songs yet. It’s so amazing to me how God provided the last couple of songs in such a short amount of time. That week it was finished… a song about the faithfulness of God.


Dreamer

It was so much fun writing this one.

I was writing in my room one night, trying to come up with some song ideas, and a melody started to take form. I called Brad and Ed as soon as I finished it. I sang it for them with the phone resting on my knee (that takes talent, by the way). I took a deep sigh of relief… we had the last song for the record.

The next week when I was in Nashville, Ed and I wrote the lyric. We wanted to call it "Dreamer"—for it to be a song about faith. There was a movie that we had been able to see in a screening a few weeks before that inspired a lot of it, actually. The song slowly became a story about a good King who gave up everything for his kingdom… a story about the heart of Jesus told in a very mythical way.

"I am a dreamer/Take me higher/Open the sky up/Start a fire/I believe even if it's just a dream..."