Author: Diane Helman

Honest | April 22, 2021

I’m not sure how I feel about this one. But also, I’m deeply enjoying playing with new ideas. It has been so healthy to keep digging deep into my soul to pull out something I haven’t done before. Earlier this morning, I reflected over some things I had said to Jesus yesterday, and felt a flash of shame, as though I should have held my tongue. But instantly, I felt Him remind me, I’m here for all of you. And this song resulted, in about 15 minutes. Given a rewrite, I think I would challenge a few of my lyrics to be better, but there again, since honest was the focus, I felt restrained from polishing too brightly.

Ours | April 13, 2021

This morning as the kids dug into their cereal bowls, I asked, “If you were to write a song for Jesus today, what would you say to Him?”

Aly didn’t hesitate. “I don’t know what the whole song would be, but I know the first line: He is strong, He is faithful, He is powerful.”

I immediately had a tune and within 20 minutes, most of the song had taken shape. The kids continued to bring thoughts forward to include: We should say something about mountains. We should say that He is honest. Let’s call Him a blue sky.

So this song is a far cry from studio complete, and we rush the tempo in a dozen places, but still. It was so fun to let them each find their way to shine!

Real | April 12, 2021

I really have no business making any form of music video, whether to introduce a song or otherwise. Frankly, a trained seal could sing with more skill than I. Yet here I am with a sing to sing, and a conviction that if the Lord authors something in our hearts, there is no qualified alternative but to let it come out, even steeped in our obvious deficiencies.

Anyway… to the song. I am always shaping words in my heart, and lately they are coming forth with a song attached. This one is not intended, in any way, to be sung publicly. It’s far too intimate, too deep, too searching.

This song deals honestly and openly with the tension of knowing Jesus, and yet but a sliver of Him. I found myself sitting at my piano with a heart full of tenacity–completely unwilling to sing a line I had sung before, rebelling against the very concept of coming in anything but hunger. I also had a song of faith to sing, but as the music came forward, I found my heart pushing into the unknown, gagging on the familiar landmarks…a form of godliness, though they deny its power.

All I could say was: I know You’re real. I have seen in the very fibers of my soul. Yet here I am, with only hints, only pieces, and precious little that makes my life feel worthwhile. Jesus, for one who has loved and encountered and served You, it’s just not enough. If You don’t show up as more real than this, I’m going to be a crisis point. Being willing to publish lines like I have lifted up my eyes for help that didn’t come and what I really want is life that’s worth the breath tells the story for me. There is nothing for me but Jesus, and this emptiness is preferable to fake supply.

The purpose of this song is to rub raw the artificial rafts for our soul, to puncture a hole in the premise of any existence apart from Him, and to cause us to ache in hunger for Him, only Him and until Him.

If it isn’t Him, I don’t want it.