Saturday was a rough ol’ day for our Amaliya. It was her birthday. She was sick—and sick enough for her birthday party to be postponed. Grandma and Grandpa popped-by later in the afternoon to give her a hug and some gifts …

… and then she gave us a gift.

Between taking our mouthfuls of pizza she told us about a Christian singer she was enjoying. We ol’ fuddy duddies had never even heard of him. I confess that when she mentioned his name, my mind raced to Rowan Atkinson chatting on a stage with Elton John—and suggesting to him that his names were, in fact, the wrong way around. “Did you ever consider John Elton?”

After listening to a few phrases from Forrest Frank’s songs, I found myself intrigued. When we got home, it was straight to Spotify and to some random ‘Forrest Frank playlist’—with each song looping on repeat until I got a sense of the message of the song. It didn’t take too long! The music is catchy and cheerful. And the lyrics? Well, this ain’t Charles Wesley or Frances Ridley Havergal and so I managed to get a handle on the lyrics relatively quickly.

Let me take you through this playlist…

[Please note: click on each header for a link to the full song on YouTube]

Up!

I was down but now I’m up, yeah
This all God this ain’t no luck, yeah

Wow, that was impressive. Frank manages to reel me in before the end of the second line in the very first song to which I listened. One of the things that must offend God so much is the way Christians, of all people, carry on about ‘luck’. The very notion of it is corrosive to our understanding of the sovereignty and providence of God—and it should be deleted from Christian vocabulary. And here is this guy naming the ups and downs of life and emerging with “This all God, this ain’t no luck”.

I want my grandchildren listening to this stuff—and I don’t mind having a wee listen along with them.

Good Day

Ok, it is off now to loop the second song from this playlist.

I’m ’bout to have a good day
No matter what they say
Sun is shining down on me
Birds are singing praise
I’m ’bout to have a good day
In every single way
The God who made the universe
Knows me by my name
So it’s a good day

Again, it is his understanding of God that does it for me. God is his starting point, and life’s experiences get wrapped around him and seen through what we know to be true about him. And here he is doing what needs to be done—mingling the immanence of God (near and close, in Christ and the Spirit) with the transcendence of God (big and distant, with ‘ways that are past finding out’). Both are true. Both are needed. Both land in “The God who made the universe knows me by name.” It is simple. It is beautiful—and, most of all, it is true. And don’t miss the “So” in that last line. It is because this is true that any day can be a good day—even when we are “as low as a rug” as he goes on to sing.

I want my grandchildren listening to this stuff—and I don’t mind having a wee listen along with them.

Always

That is ‘two out of two’. Surely, he will falter with number three?

I confess that this one had this ol’ fuddy duddy getting a bit tear-y when I listened for the first time. Not just because of the way the words spoke to me, but also at the thought that my string of grandchildren could end up humming and singing this song on the way to school each day. “What could be better?”, I ask myself.

You are loved, you are chosen, your body isn’t broken
For every door that closes, a better one gets opened
You got a light inside, too radiant to hide
If you don’t think so, let me change your mind

Wherever you go, wherever you stay
Don’t you forget that love is always coming your way
No matter how far, how broken you are
Don’t you forget that love is always coming your way
Always

What can I say? That is just profound theology, pure and simple. In the battle with their bodies, to know they are loved and chosen? Goodness me, he is two-thirds of the way to one of my go-to verses. Jude 1: ‘called-loved-kept’. And the ‘kept’ is actually there as well—embedded in the “always”. In the challenge with obedience, to know that “for every door that closes, a better one gets opened”. Goodness me, now I am overhearing the opening line of an ol’ fuddy duddy hymn: “make me a captive, Lord, and then I shall be free”.

I want my grandchildren listening to this stuff—and I don’t mind having a wee listen along with them.

Altar

The next few songs are worth listening to—like No Longer Bound and Lift My Hands—but it is on Altar that my soul pauses to rest again.

Glory to the Father
You deserve the praise
Lead me to Your altar
Wash away my shame, hey

In this song reference to ‘the altar’ evokes truths and imagery related to the transforming power of the cross of Jesus. Have a listen for yourself. However it is the use of the word “shame” here that caught my eye. We are accustomed to relating the cross to our guilt, not so much our shame. That was how I was raised—and, afterall, the Bible makes us do it.

And yet, in Altar, we have lyrics like “carryin’ buckets of shame” and “Livin’ in my shame like the potter didn’t shape You”. It took me back to last year. At our annual Langham Preaching leadership meetings, we put Mark (UK) in conversation with Dwi (Indonesia) on the subject of honour and shame. The classic approach is to say that Western cultures are sin-focused, while Non-Western ones are shame-focused. But on that day, Mark disputed that distinction. The more he watches and listens, the more convinced he is that a ‘shame’ culture is penetrating the West, especially among the younger ones. Dwi is working on a little book to help our people read the Bible from the perspective of honour and shame. So Forrest Frank might be onto something…

I want my grandchildren listening to this stuff—and I don’t mind having a wee listen along with them (and I’ll need to make sure that every generation in the family receives a copy of Dwi’s book).

Your Way’s Better

I don’t know if it is deliberate, but it is much harder to find Forrest Frank doing live performances of his songs in YouTube. Maybe they can be found on some other platform… Furthermore, again and again, it is an audio link, with just the lyrics, that is most easily found. I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that this is part of him trying to give glory to Jesus, rather than taking it all for himself.

Here is a final song, in which he comes to the conclusion that the way of Jesus is better.

When I’m overwhelmed within
From the weight of all my sin
I need a friend to call my own
I need a house to call my home
When I’m broken down inside
And there’s nowhere else to hide
I need a place where I feel known
Can someone help me?
Then I hear Your reply
Bringing teardrops to my eyes
Saying I’m not alone

Oh Lord, I need You now more than ever
Would You put my heart back together
I searched the world ’til my head hurt
Just to find out Your way’s better
Oh-oh, Your way’s better
Oh-oh, Your way’s better
Oh, Lord, Your way’s better
Jesus, Your way’s better

I want my grandchildren listening to this stuff—and I don’t mind having a wee listen along with them.

So there is a handful of songs that appeared early on in the playlist. That’s enough. I need to leave space for you to discover some of the other songs for yourself. However, given that this Lyrics for Living label in my blog originated with a desire to draw attention to ol’ fuddy duddy hymns—considering that there tends to be a hymn-shaped gap in contemporary spirituality—maybe it is worth mentioning that Forrest Frank likes to play with hymns and freshen them up as well. Here is one example.

It is Well

With “When Peace Like a River” as a starting point, he writes this song:

It is well with my soul
It is well, it is well with my soul
It is well with my soul
It is well, it is well with my soul

I know there’s mamas out there crying
On the edge, thinking what’s the use in trying
I know there’s daddies with aggression
Acting tough just to cover the depression

Some days so sad
Man, it really is a miracle that we can be glad
In the midst of the pain, in the storm, in the rain
I know God is the same

I want my grandchildren listening to this stuff—and I don’t mind having a wee listen along with them.

They say the people of God have always gained their theology from what they sing—’off the screen’ as it were. It is probably true. If so, there is a lot to like about these songs. I don’t tend to do a lot of research before I write blogs—as I am trying to process things as I see them—and so I don’t know a lot about Forrest Frank. I did notice someone describing his lyrics to be about “surrendering to God’s will, God’s wisdom and God’s timing”. That’s great. On the other hand, I suspect that there are things that are missing. He is still young. There is still room to grow and I hope he does—beyond what are largely individualised songs that address issues within the borders of Texas (and even then, nowhere near all the issues there). I hope he grows into having a global vision, with a heart for things like justice. And as he grows, I pray that God keeps him safe in every way.

And he is Generation Z… That fact is not lost on me. Although I gotta confess, my response to hearing the phrase ‘Gen Z’ tends to be, “Oh no—not again. Haven’t we learned our lessons after Generation Y, Generation X—and the Babyboomers before them?” Sure, the gospel needs to be ‘forwarded to every new address’, but so often the discussion suggests that the church, sometimes even the gospel, needs to be reshaped to fit a new generation. Really? Isn’t that called syncretism? The secret lies more with Generation Z being reshaped to fit the gospel, as it has been with every generation before them. Afterall, it is only ‘the eternal that can hope to be forever contemporary’. The key is always about the way the ‘unchanging’ holds us, before it is about the way we hold the ‘changing’ (although that has its rightful place). Forrest Frank is dabbling in this area. Good for him. But there is room for more, much more—and the emergence of an even more prophetic voice in his generation. May it be so.

nice chatting

Paul