Tomorrow, my last studio project hits the five-year mark.  Let Go came out May 9, 2011, the result of a three-month music sabbatical the previous summer.  Freed from the weekly ritual of sermon writing, I could devote all of my creative muse to songwriting.  Having a Lily-endowed grant to leave no musical stone unturned didn't hurt either.

Some highlights from the whole endeavor:
- Working with a noted Nashville recording studio and go-to cellist John Catchings,
- Watching the string section take "Where There's Love" to places I never fathomed,
- Taking a bit of a risk letting the band record the vast majority of "Better Off" live instead of tracked, and embracing the little joyful imperfections,
- The awesome party in Doug's driveway that became the beautiful chorus at the end of "The Dance/Grace,"
- Huddling around a studio mic with my wife and two sons, all of us wearing headsets, singing "na-na-na's." 

If anything, "Let Go" taught me that the studio is not where songs go to be finished, but to be birthed.  So many of those songs wound up going in very different, beautiful directions than what I anticipated them being when I first took them there.  Lots of thanks to fraternity brother/former bandmate Doug Davis, who owns a super little garage studio outside downtown Winston-Salem, pushed me not to settle, and knows exactly what he's doing.

My oldest son occasionally asks if I'll ever do another studio album.  I honestly don't know.  It takes a lot of time to do it right, along with a lot of money, and these days I don't have much of either.  Besides, other than the occasional retreat theme song, I'm not doing a lot of writing.  If this winds up being my last album, I can count myself content.  Five years later and I'm still proud of it.  

I hope you'll give it a listen if you haven't already.  It is - as it's always been and always will be - a totally free download.  Thanks much for listening.
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when i was younger
family trips to the house in daytona beach
they'd let me sleep on a cot out on the screened-in back porch
for some reason I slept wonderfully there, in spite of humidity and heat
the occasional train whistle stirring me from sleep
and lulling me back as its sound faded in the distance.

but the thunderstorms, when they came rolling through
i'd wake excitedly
a flash at first and i'd count the seconds,
1....2....3....4.....
and then a rumble
because they said you can tell how far away the storm is 
by how many seconds it takes
for the sound to catch up to the light.
i'd lie on my cot as the storm grew louder
the sound of rain pounding the pavement outside
and sometimes sideways, coming in
misting my face
strange - i felt secure and safe in the midst of it all
rarely did i ever go inside.

these days, my dog is scared of thunderstorms
he hides up on our bed or presses himself
in the wedge where our two sofas come together
a worried look on his face
but me - i am still entranced
and while i don't sleep out on the porch anymore
there is a sofa and some chairs
and so i'll find my way out there
to see the flash
hear the rumble and rain
and be comforted by 
this power that is far
far beyond my own.