Aaaaand we're back

I had originally planned to send this on December 16th. But then the holidays were in full force and I wanted to spend some time editing it, but decided instead that pumpkin pie and Stranger Things was a better idea and now it's mid January! Thanks for sticking with me here.

Oh, and if you're new, or if you missed the previous editions, I got you:

Grace - An Introduction
Grace Part 1 - Mt. Vernon, WA
Grace Part 2 - Mars Hill
Grace Part 3 - Recording, Mixing, and the Artwork
BONUS: The Songs that Inspired Grace
Listen to Grace
Help Make Joe's Next Album

What Grace means to me today

On November 8th, 2025, I sent a text to Brian Eichelberger, Seth Fikkert, and Craig & Jackie Marais, alerting them that the next day would be the 15th anniversary of Grace. I told them how grateful I am that, after all these years, we are still friends.

Seth replied instantly (which is unusual for him): “Grace upon grace upon grace.” I started bawling in my car on my way to my daughter’s basketball game, where I proceeded to stay in "incognito mode" in the gym, trying to look like I wasn't crying until the game ended. Seth and I have been through a lot together, and those words hit deeply coming from him.

His mom, Pat—a dear friend of mine—passed away last year. Her favorite song was The Glory of God. Not merely her favorite song on Grace, it was her favorite song... of all songs. A few weeks before she passed, Seth organized a BBQ for friends and family at his house. He asked everyone to bring their instruments so we could all play The Glory of God together with Pat.

She played trumpet. That night, she was on oxygen and looked physically frail, yet in her eyes burned that unquenchable flame that is patently Pat. Jeff and Jono from Mindhead were there. Seth’s nieces and nephews all showed up with instruments. After eating, we gathered to sing. It was a moment of such beauty—three generations of friends and family singing a song born of this very community. As I drove home later, I reflected that it might be the closest thing to heaven I had ever experienced on this side of eternity. It was heavy. It was joyful. And then it was over.

She died a few weeks later on Friday, May 2nd, 2025. That Sunday, when my family attended our church, it just so happened that the church calendar, which follows a three-year cycle, had us reading Revelation 5. You might remember this is the very passage that inspired The Glory of God.

As we read the passage together as a congregation, I sat in tears, overwhelmed at the timing and imagining Pat joyfully reading along in Heaven. There’s no way the timing was a coincidence. This is the global church calendar—the Catholic, Anglican, Lutheran, and Presbyterian calendar—meaning millions of people the world over were reading Revelation 5 on that day. God saw fit to take her home the week her favorite song was tied to the liturgy. It was a wondrous, beautiful moment of reflection for a woman who led an amazing life. Grace upon grace upon grace.

A few weeks later, we sang the song at her memorial with a huge band: me, the Mindhead boys, and Pat's many grandchildren on strings, piano, and vocals. There were nearly twenty people on stage and the church was packed to overflowing. In attendance were many key people from The Gathering—old friends I don't get to see often. At one point, I made eye contact with Ron Wheeler, the former pastor of The Gathering. We smiled and nodded at each other, and again, my eyes got wet. There's nothing quite as precious as long-term friendships, especially the ones that have endured difficulty.

So, what does Grace mean to me now?

Just like any long-term relationship, it's complicated. I’ve moved on from the Calvinism of my youth, and the Reformed theology that was the hallmark of those years has lost its resonance in my soul for the most part. This isn't because I’ve lost faith, but because I’ve rediscovered it through different practices—the Desert Fathers and Mothers, and the Anglican tradition.

While I'm in a different place today, it doesn't make the songs any less significant. I appreciate them as markers of a journey. And the fact that they still speak to people in churches today? That's amazing to me.

While that's true, these songs are also tied to painful memories. The way The Gathering fractured. The fall of Mars Hill. Those were not mere organizations; they were communities that formed me. I would be lying if I told you I didn't still carry wounds from both. (See Halflight). I'd also be lying if I told you I didn't miss the friendships that were broken in the fractures. This is part of the reason I stopped playing Grace songs. I wanted to seek out new space and leave the past behind.

Yet, every now and then, a Grace song will invade my world.

For instance, one Sunday we arrived a bit late to our church, where most people have no idea about my history with Mars Hill and only a few have heard of my album Grace. As we sat down, I thumbed through the bulletin and started reading the lyrics of the next song. Something was very familiar. The worship leader started singing, "I was the prodigal son..." and I realized they were my words. And Nate’s words. It was Death to Life, and completely out of context.

Worlds collided. Confession: I silently mouthed the words "what the f#$@?!" while my family and close friends watched me in real time. Then we all had a good laugh. It was healing.

Change and Legacy

Last summer, I was on tour with John Van Deusen. When John was sixteen, he used to attend The Gathering. He’d sit in the balcony by himself in a hoodie—a brooding teen we nicknamed "Donnie Darko." He’d go on to form the band The Lonely Forest and then embark on an amazing solo career.

We were driving from Spokane to Boise when he asked if I ever thought about playing the older songs. Grace is one of his favorite worship albums. I gave him my usual answer: "I don't really play those." But the question dislodged something. That night, when someone shouted a request for "Passover," I didn't deflect. I gave it a go. I fumbled through it because I couldn't quite remember how the transition to the end went, but the audience was so gracious. It felt like another step toward healing.

A couple of months later, as I prepared for a house show in Woodinville, I finally felt the genuine desire to revisit one. John's question kept nagging at me and I decided I'd give it ago. The selection was not hard at all: For Your Goodness.

For your goodness, Lord  
For the things you do  
For your blessings and all of the ways  
That you have been faithful to me  

Of all the songs on Grace, I’m drawn to this one the most. It’s simple and heartfelt. I think it’s because it comes from a deep desire to see things as God sees them, to see us at our best while not shying away from our worst, and knowing we are loved. No fluff. No jargon. Just direct. I think I need more of that. My guess is you might too.

I am both the same person who wrote Grace, and not the same person at all. If you ask me what the enduring legacy of that era will be, I’ll tell you what it won’t be: the drama or the sermons. It’ll be the relationships and the music.

A sermon was never the soundtrack of anyone’s life. You might think about it for a few minutes, but you leave humming the tune. You hum it while mowing the lawn, or making dinner, or driving your kids home from school. You sing it at weddings and funerals.

The songs are like a morning mist, a daily dose of water seeping into the soul through the imagination. They stay with us through the seasons of life. They find us in moments where we need them. I’m so grateful Grace has played a part in that.

Grace upon grace upon grace.

The People who Made Grace

Brian Eichelberger Production, mixing, bass, organ, violin, and the keeper of the good vibes. One of the nicest people you’ll ever meet. He’s still making amazing music to this day.

Seth Fikkert Drums. Seth is one of the funniest, most creative people I know. We’ve been close as brothers and fought like brothers. Nobody drums like Seth. It's an expression of his full personality, which is big. He uses his entire body. It's a thing to behold. So much feel and passion in the music he makes. By day he’s a nurse, and that combo of humor and empathy makes him incredible at what he does. Even though we don't get to see much of each other these days, I still count him as one of my best friends. He's been that for over half my life.

Lauren Fikkert Vocals. For many years, Lauren and I stood next to each other singing on Sundays. She was always a calm presence in the band with a sly, cheeky sense of humor.

Jackie Marais Piano. Jackie is one of the best musicians I’ve ever played with. She’d put her hair in pigtails anytime she was nervous—which meant she was in pigtails the first time we met for her audition. Our jaws dropped when she wrote the piano hook that opens The Glory of God. I can still see the look of uncertainty and surprise on her face when she looked at us and said "was that good?"

Craig Marais Violin. I realized after writing this that Craig isn't actually on the record (Brian played the violin on the album), but Craig was part of the era in a million other ways. He’s a great conversationalist—curious, expressive, and discerning.

Audrey Stout Cello. Audrey played on both Mindhead records as well. Even though she was classically trained, she was so comfortable in a band atmosphere, working out parts together and always making them better.

Ed Brooks Mastering. Ed has mastered everything I’ve done from Mindhead onward. If a great record has come out of the Seattle scene in the last twenty years, there’s a good chance Ed was involved.

Well, there you have it. That's the story and the people of Grace. Thanks being a part of it.

Talk soon...

The Story of Grace

GRACE - An Introduction
Grace Part 1 - Mt. Vernon, WA
Grace Part 2 - Mars Hill
Grace Part 3 - Recording, Mixing, and the Artwork Grace Part 4 - Reflections and the People
BONUS: The Songs that Inspired Grace
Listen to Grace
Help Make Joe's Next Album