One of the things I have tried to do with every album is dedicate at least one song to the woman I love. Not simply because she means a great deal to me personally, but because her presence in my life has deeply shaped my faith journey in ways I never expected.

 

Before we ever met, I had started praying about wanting to grow closer to God. At the time, I still considered myself someone standing somewhere between belief and uncertainty. I always believed there was a higher power, but I spent much of my life wrestling with religion, questioning my place in faith, and wondering whether I truly belonged inside the kind of relationship with God that many other people seemed so certain about.

 

Then, within days of praying those prayers, she entered my life.

 

The interesting thing about her is that she does not approach faith casually. She genuinely loves God with her whole heart. Scripture is part of her everyday life, not simply something she visits on Sundays. She studies the Bible deeply, knows the stories, understands the lessons, and carries her faith naturally into the way she lives, speaks, gives, and treats people.

 

Coming from my background, that was incredibly different for me to witness up close.

We often sit together discussing scripture, debating interpretations, and talking through difficult spiritual questions. Because I grew up largely outside the church, I still approach many parts of faith differently than she does. I question things constantly. I wrestle with ideas. I analyze everything. Meanwhile, she often carries a confidence and trust in God that I genuinely admire.

 

Watching her live out her faith challenged me in ways I did not expect.

 

One of the moments that impacted me most deeply was when she sold her home and immediately began planning how she would tithe from what she received. What struck me was not the amount itself, but the heart behind it. She is not someone living with endless excess or overflowing wealth. The money could have helped relieve stress, create comfort, or provide security in many areas of her life. Yet without hesitation, she wanted to honor God first.

 

Coming from a mindset that spent much of life focused on survival, fear, control, and holding tightly to whatever stability I could create, that kind of faith was difficult for me to fully comprehend. To give so freely, peacefully, and without resentment challenged something deep inside me. She gave with a cheerful heart and complete trust that God would continue providing for her needs.

 

Moments like that forced me to examine my own heart more honestly.

That is why the song begins with:

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                                        “I’ve been a sinner with a Sunday voice.”

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For me, that line represents the tension of trying to move toward faith while still wrestling with doubt, shame, uncertainty, pride, fear, and questions about whether I fully belong. I have prayed prayers before while still struggling internally. I have sat in church trying to believe more deeply while simultaneously questioning myself.

 

Not because I reject God,
but because I often wrestle with my own worthiness.

That struggle still appears in small ways even now.

 

For example, I often have difficulty asking people to pray for me personally. Even during church prayer moments, part of me still feels like someone else probably needs those prayers more than I do. Rationally, I understand God is not limited. I understand His grace is not scarce. Yet emotionally, I still wrestle with feeling undeserving sometimes.

 

Writing this music has actually become part of how God continues drawing me closer to Him. The deeper I go into scripture while writing these reflections, the more I begin seeing how connected faith becomes to every part of life. I find myself searching scripture more often, studying biblical stories more deeply, and recognizing spiritual lessons in places I previously overlooked.

 

Much of that growth began because someone loved me patiently while I was still figuring things out.

 

That is what Hallelujah truly became about.

 

Not worshipping another person as if they replaced God, but recognizing that sometimes God places certain people in our lives who gently help lead us closer to Him. Sometimes grace arrives through relationships.

 

Through patience.
Through kindness.
Through people who love us honestly while still encouraging us toward something greater.

The line:

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                                                       “You see the mess and the man
                                                      And you take ‘em both as they are”

 

captures that feeling for me perfectly.

 

Many people carry shame quietly. They carry fear that if others truly saw all their flaws, doubts, failures, insecurities, or scars, they would eventually walk away. Real love challenges that fear because it allows someone to feel fully seen without immediately feeling condemned.

 

That kind of acceptance changes people.

 

One of the most beautiful things about faith is realizing God often works through ordinary moments:

 

praying before meals together,
reading devotionals,
having difficult conversations,
sitting in church,
studying scripture,
showing grace during weakness,
or simply loving someone consistently enough that their heart slowly begins opening again.

 

That is what she has done for me.

 

She has helped soften parts of me that spent years guarded, skeptical, ashamed, uncertain, or emotionally closed off. She reminds me daily that faith is not simply about perfection or performance. It is about relationship, grace, humility, growth, and learning to trust God more deeply over time.

 

And maybe that is part of what love is truly supposed to do.

 

Not merely make us happy, but help us become more honest, more open,
more grounded, and more connected to God than we were before.

 

That is why I call her my hallelujah.

 

Because through loving her, I have slowly started understanding God’s mercy in ways I never fully understood before.