Dear Faith for Living readers,
I am writing to share an intimate glimpse into what may very well be (almost certainly be) my final album—Plain Folk. The album features a collection of folk songs (perhaps better called “Americana”) that speak to the human experience, one that we all share, no matter our circumstances or backgrounds. These songs (seek to) capture the simplicity and profundity of daily life, reminding us of our common pilgrimage under God’s sovereign plan.
Today, I would like to introduce you to one of the tracks from Plain Folk, a song titled “Someday.” Before you listen, I want to offer a reminder: this is a rough demo (super rough!) and not even close to the finished product. As you’ll hear, my voice is weaker than it once was, at times off-key, off-time—off-somewhere and maybe off-putting—but perhaps that very fragility conveys a deeper sense of vulnerability and awe before God—themes that I hope to capture throughout this album, things I am feeling deeply. It is not about perfection, but about authenticity, and I believe this roughness, this rawness, serves the greater purpose of the music. This was the first take. But with eleven demos needed to be recorded, I left it mistakes and all. We will tidy up things to standard on the actual record. This recording will not even be used except as a guide.
As we work toward completing the album, I ask for your prayers. If the Lord wills, this project will reach its completion, capturing not just tunes but the deeper message of grace, hope, and truth.
Music has a way of gently leading us to confront what we often evade in life. In “Someday,” I find myself grappling with an elusive theme that every person has tasted—the temptation to push the present into the future. We often tell ourselves that the good moments we long for will happen someday, at some unspecified point when all the busyness of life is behind us. My illness and its recent progression have made me think about the reality of “Someday.” The song’s verses chart a series of promises made in the seasons of life. Each desire for some kind of human experience is deferred with a hopeful nod to a future that never arrives. The first verse’s imagery of a river in spring, the second verse is a summer dream of camping and chasing fireflies with a Mason jar, the third’s an Autumn walk—these are all things we yearn for, but things we postpone. Like the father who promises his child an adventure but finds himself captive to life’s unrelenting demands, we too delay love and life until it’s too late.
The fleeting nature of time is a gift meant to steer us toward the eternal.
The real story in Someday is not about what we have done, but about what we almost miss. The song’s final verse feels like a winter benediction: “Someday came like a fallen snow, and plans we made lie still below.” These lines express a finality we must all reckon with. The “frozen finality of time,” as I call it, reminds us that while we may make plans, only God ordains our days.
In this song, the human experience of longing and delay is laid bare. Yet God’s presence is not absent from this narrative—far from it. If anything, Someday reminds us that the fleeting nature of time is a gift meant to steer us toward the eternal. To receive the truth of the sovereignty of God with all the inherent mysteries untouched is to open the door to a new appreciation of time. The concept, and reality, of measured experience on earth is only possible because of the glory and majesty of timelessness in heaven.
In the production of Plain Folk, we are blessed to feature familiar voices like Cindy Gibbs, who has accompanied me on many of my musical projects, and contributions from award-winning international artists. But this album will not be overproduced. If anything, we will work hard to preserve its raw, minimalist spirit. Think of Harvest by Neil Young, Saturate Before Using by Jackson Browne, or Home Free by Dan Fogelberg—these are the production values we are aiming for with Plain Folk. It’s about keeping the music honest, simple, and true to the human experience. One music scholar put it this way: “Folk music is, in a sense, timeless. It speaks to the heart of human experience, grounded in the common lives of people and the land they inhabit.”1 That is a good standard we are aiming for.
The concept, and reality, of measured experience on earth is only possible because of the glory and majesty of timelessness in heaven.
My old friend, Rev. Steve Wallace, suggested that I collect the lyrics and print them as stand-alone poetical works. This sparked an idea. I’ve begun writing song analyses for each track, and I will be including both the lyrics and reflections on each song in a small booklet that will accompany the album. However, subscribers to this newsletter will receive that booklet for free. I’ve already completed the analysis for about three of the 11 songs, and I’m looking forward to sharing them with you. Thank you, Steve, for the inspiration!
Thank you all for reading and listening. I humbly come before you and seek your continued prayers, and a special intercession for this album: that I can do the required work, and that I can complete the project. These eleven songs are in their early stages of recording, but if the Lord wills, Plain Folk will be a finished work by year end (or new year). We have a lot to do: musical scoring, laying down tracks, creating “stems” of recordings that will, at length, be merged, mixed, and finalized. I’m hoping for an LP album to accompany the streaming product (we will see). I don’t want to project a faux humility or altruism, but I’m not as concerned about sales (it is a nonprofit venture with Bethesda Music, so we do hope for good) as I am sharing art. The music business is tough. The release of an album normally requires publicity agents, touring, and more. I can do none of that. If I were healthy enough to do it I wouldn’t. I am uninterested in that part of it. My concern is painting the musical picture, telling the story, and, maybe, just maybe, reaching an untouched, and unmoved pool deep inside a fellow traveler’s spirit. May the album serve to stir hearts, including my own, to live more fully in the present, knowing that God holds tomorrow.
Thanks for reading and listening to this rough cut and our plans for an album of new music, Lord willing.
Yours Faithfully,
Mike+
Mark Slobin, Folk Music: A Very Short Introduction (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011), 3.
Introducing “Someday”