New Music! "Jesus Paid It All"

I was burned out.

My job was unsustainable. I was having to work 50-60 hours a week to try to keep my head above water, but the work was piling higher every day and there was just no way.

Yet, it didn’t pay enough to cover my family’s bills. And it wasn’t playing music, which was the thing I loved to do and kept getting asked to do. So many weekends I would go out to play shows and most nights I would go down to the studio to work on somebody’s record.

The bills were being paid, just barely.

The jobs were getting done, just barely.

I was a father to my kids and a husband to my wife, just barely.

My wife had been in pain for a long time, too. We didn’t know what it was. She’d been to doctor after doctor and hadn’t gotten any good answers, but the pain was getting worse.

Soon we would learn she had a very aggressive blood cancer and would start immediate cancer. Soon I would leave that job and head off into a strange but exciting unknown.

That day, though, I was cooked.

This was a little less than three years ago now. It’s been a crazy hard, yet deeply rewarding few years. More than I could even begin to tell you right now.

But that day I couldn’t imagine any of that. My head literally hurt from the brain fog of trying to carry all this crushing weight. I had to do something.

Then I had a crazy idea.

A few years before I’d worked on this thing called The Faithful Project. A music / book series created by a cast of legendary female songwriters and authors. Andrew Peterson had introduced me to Amy Grant a little earlier and I thought she might enjoy being a part of a group like this, so I texted her out of the blue, (something I learned later her manager was not very thrilled about!) Amy was thrilled about it, though, and jumped in with both feet, becoming an anchor to that whole project and a powerful encouraging voice to a whole group of younger women writers. It was so amazing to witness.

We ended up doing some recording in the barn out at Amy and Vince’s farm at one point, kind of a sacred space in Christian music history (Songs From The Loft, anybody?) and she made a little comment to me “Hey, if you ever need to get away for a day or two, just let me know. Come out and use the cabins anytime.”

They’ve got three old rustic cabins on the property. No plumbing. No AC. Just some old wooden log walls, a few beds, a sitting area, and a wood-burning stove. And the outhouse over there…

Well, that day I was so burned out? I needed to get away for a day or two. So I stood in my backyard and said to myself, “I can’t believe I’m doing this” and texted Amy Grant. Again.

“Hey Amy, it’s Andrew. Can I come out to the farm and use one of the cabins sometime?”

She responded almost immediately.

A couple weeks later my little gray Prius was driving up the gravel road through the farm to the cabins on a super-humid June morning. I brought a notebook, a pillow, a Bible, my laptop, a microphone, some headphones, a camera I didn’t know how to use, and my old red 1965 Guild D-25 “Charley”.

I read some Scripture. I took a nap. I recorded some old hymns. I listened to the rain. I hiked around. I took another nap. I recorded another old hymn. I journaled for a bit. I messed around with the camera. I drove back home.

Today I released the first of those hymns I recorded back then. I recorded this on the front porch of one of the cabins. It was too hot and humid inside. The cicadas were so loud outside, but they almost become like a pad. Definitely no AI on this track, that’s for sure. You can tell when I layer in a harmony because all of a sudden the bugs get louder. It brings joy to my heart.

There are also a shocking number of cows in this song. That’s a new one.

I know this story is a bit name-droppy, and I’m sorry about that. That’s not the point. The point is that we all get overwhelmed and need somebody to let us hang out on their front porch and have some space.

I don’t have a farm, or even an outhouse. I wish I had a physical place I could welcome you to, but I can invite you to a few minutes of peace in this song. One of my favorite old hymns.

Jesus Paid It All written by Elvina Hall in 1865.

I hope it’s a gift to you.

(The song was recorded on the porch you’re looking at, about an hour before the storm in this photo)

I hear the Savior say,
"Thy strength indeed is small,
Child of weakness, watch and pray,
Find in Me thine all in all."
Jesus paid it all,
All to Him I owe;
Sin had left a crimson stain,
He washed it white as snow.
Lord, now indeed I find
Thy pow'r and Thine alone,
Can change the leper's spots
And melt the heart of stone.
For nothing good have I
Where-by Thy grace to claim;
I'll wash my garments white
In the blood of Calv'ry's Lamb.
And when, before the throne,
I stand in Him complete,
"Jesus died my soul to save,"
My lips shall still repeat.
Jesus paid it all,
All to Him I owe;
Sin had left a crimson stain,
He washed it white as snow.