So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. —Romans 12:1 (The Message)
I wish I could tell you that this record is the result of some mysterious, divine calling that came from discernment in the wee hours of the night—a vision, even. However, this record (which is still annoyingly not yet titled) is primarily a decision to embrace what God has done for me in my everyday, ordinary life.
My life consists of working full time in a retirement community, singing in my local church, spending time with friends, writing, reading… surely nothing that is fodder for songs—or even worse, certainly not good enough to embrace as God-given.
At least, that’s what I thought for a long time. I plodded my way through the darkness of the mundane and accepted my fate as a creative trapped in a day job. I kept looking for inspiration elsewhere—anywhere but exactly where I was.
When the pandemic entered the scene, a spiritual formation began to take shape in me, albeit quiet and simple: I had to be still. The privilege of dreaming and longing for fulfillment somewhere else got muted. In the silence, I decided I would finally pay attention. What I found in front of me was everything I needed.
And so, it is from this place that I started working on the record. I want it to feel as easy as a good walk and talk with a friend—ebbing and flowing in tone and pace but warm and loving.
No midnight visions of mysterious, divine calling here. Only the mysterious and divine calling me in the middle of my sleeping, eating, going-to-work and walking-around-life— and these songs are my offering back to Him, and now you. Becca Jordan
The record will begin with “Prologue”: “When all the lights go out / and you are sitting in the dark / pay attention / pay attention.” It seems a bit counterintuitive to encourage someone to pay attention in the dark, but I find this is the exact invitation God has given to me the last few years and it’s the invitation I want to extend to listeners. Something else is at work. Someone else is at work.
“All I’ve Got” is a prayer straight from my journal: “Turn my heartache into laughter / let my lonely become love / I give you my anger, may it become / something good / it ain’t a lot / but it’s all I’ve got.” Emptiness isn’t something to be afraid of, I’ve found, but instead a good place to begin.
“Daylight” is a letter that I started to my Mom when she was in a difficult season: You see the sun in the sky / you hear me say it’s gonna be alright / you bow your head and cry / because your heart is dark as night.”
Sometimes depression can make the days feel like night. Sometimes all you have is those in your corner telling you they love you.
“Train Song” is inspired by some time in England and an experience of missing a train. In that moment I felt the eerie similarity that life can feel the same, as if I’m missing out on something—if only I could have another chance! “I want back on that train / please let me on again / this time I’ll find a seat by the window / I’ll ride.”
“Memory” is special to me, inspired by one of my residents at the nursing home. Whenever I would sing to him, he would come alive for a split moment. He was no longer a patient but a man with a name. There’s a verse in Zephaniah 3 that talks about God singing over us, and I love to imagine I’m just like my friend with illness that forgets who I am frequently. “When you sing over me / I know just where I am / When you sing over me I belong again.”
“Loving You” is my love song with a God I cannot see. “Loving you is never easy / loving you, it always teaches me / who I am and who I want to be.”
“Same Old Song” is my ode to folks like me who like to do the same thing expecting different results. I believe that’s the definition of insanity, but I can’t be the only insane person out there, can I? “I’m tired of singing the same old song / oh so tired of singing the same old song / I had what I needed all along.”
“Autumn Gold” is the first single from the record we released in November. This song is making peace with the life that God has given me and recognizing that nature teaches me how to accept: by letting go. “I see the autumn colors / I see the autumn gold that’s drifting / falling from the tree.”
“Ordinary, Everyday Love” is another song inspired by my workplace. This one details three particular men and how I’ve watched love find them in very normal ways over the years. “Give me eyes to see / who’s standing in front of me / Could it be enough / just ordinary, everyday love.”
“Human” is another journal entry song—except it’s more a confession than a prayer. It came from a day at work when I felt like I just did and said all the wrong things, and felt so clearly my need for an interpreter, a field guide, someone else besides me to pave the way towards wholeness. “I set out today with my plans in mind / made up the rules, tried to stop time / raise the bar high and make myself stretch / c’mon, try harder, but I’ve got nothing left.”
Jess Ray is bringing her attentiveness and beauty to these songs as producer. If these songs were pencil sketches before, they are being filled in with the most beautiful hues and colors of golden yellow piano tones, moody blue electric guitars, vibey green nylon string guitars, sweeping sunset pink sounds of cello, upright bass and viola, bright red punches of funky drumming, and lots of dreamy warm vocals. I can’t wait for you to see them! Err—hear them.
So, no midnight visions of mysterious, divine calling here. Only the mysterious and divine calling me in the middle of my sleeping, eating, going-to-work and walking-around-life— and these songs are my offering back to Him, and now you. I’d love for you to join me in helping this record come to life!