This is the sung version of my new song. See below for the monologue/ spoken version with musical backing produced at Suno.com

These original lyrics were written for the following monologue with musical backing. The musical production was made at Suno.com

WHEN THE TRAVELLER KNOCKS
There are days, Lord, when I feel my will harden--
a will like steel, forged in self protection,
reinforced by determination and a kind of self love
that circles around temptation like it’s something sweet.
I catch the scent of things that promise much
but deliver nothing,
and still I linger.
My heart, once soft to Your whisper,
can turn to stone before I even notice.
A sentinel guarding itself
against the very Love
that has waited so patiently to warm it back to life.
A mirage of affection pulls me forward,
but it vanishes the moment I reach for it.
And all the while, You--
the One who said You would give me a new heart--
stands quietly nearby.

There have been seasons
when my will has slipped from Your hands
and become a tool for lesser things.
Instead of being shaped by the Craftsman,
I’ve let it be gouged, scraped,
left neglected and weather worn.
And I wonder why I feel splintered.
But You don’t leave me there.
Your Spirit stirs like holy dynamite in the deep places:
breaking open the stubbornness,
exposing the deceit,
not to shame me--
but to free me.
So I dive again into Your cool waters,
swimming upstream with everything in me,
because my life—my real life—depends on it.
I throw back the warm covers of complacency
and run toward the sound of Your call,
heart pounding, lungs burning,
yet somehow more alive than before.
And then--
I see You.
The Traveller at the door.
The One who has walked with me through deserts and storms,
who has carried memories baked hard by service
and glazed with forgiveness.
The One who has never stopped knocking.
I open the door,
and it feels like welcoming home
a long loved friend.
We sit together, sharing stories of the road--
the missteps, the mercies,
the grace I had forgotten to remember.
And in that space,
joy rises.
Not the thin joy of circumstance,
but the deep, steady joy of being found again.
Safe again.
Home again.
For the God who breaks stone hearts
also binds them.
The God who calls us upstream
also swims beside us.
The God who confronts our stubborn will
also sings over us with delight.
So here I stand--
will surrendered, heart open,
ready to walk again with the Traveller -
who was never far from my door.

I wrote this song  (with the help of Ai!) for my grandson's 17th birthday today. If you take time to listen to it you'll hear that he's going through a difficult health issue at the moment with no end in sight. If you feel moved to say a prayer for his recovery that would be wonderful. Thank you!

An Easter Monologue  based on Jesus washing the disciples feet. (John 13:1-13)
We were gathered in the lamplight--
just a band of dusty men
waiting for the Passover,
while the night pressed in around us.
Then Jesus stood.
Quietly.
Deliberately.
And He tied a towel around His waist.
A servant’s towel.
The kind of thing no rabbi, no master,
no Messiah should ever wear.
I whispered, “Lord… this isn’t right.”
But His eyes--
they were full of fire and mercy.
He knelt before me.
Before me.
His hands, rough from years of carpentry,
were gentle as the morning light
as He washed the dust from my feet--
dust from roads I chose,
roads I wandered,
roads I shouldn’t have walked.
And He said,
“Peter, let Me wash you.
This is how My love is shown.”
In that moment,
my stubborn heart cracked open.
The truth cut deep--
that belonging to Him
meant surrender,
meant letting Him cleanse
what I could never fix myself.
So I said,
“Lord… not just my feet.
All of me.
Please, All of me!
Then He looked at us all and said,
“Do for one another
what I’ve done for you.”
A kingdom built on serving,
on bending low,
on lifting others up.
And now,
when I walk the dusty roads,
I think of that basin
Because the One who washed my feet
has taught me how to stand.

A towel.
A basin.
A lesson in the night.
The greatest in the kingdom
is the one who kneels
in the light of His love.
And I will follow
where His humble footsteps lead.

©Don Stott 2026 , Eliab.com

An original song based on the Bible passage from Luke 24:13-35 (The Road to Emmaus)
Don Stott 2026

SALT and LIGHT - a reflection based on Matthew 5:13-16
You and I…
we’re called 'Salt'
in a world that keeps forgetting its flavour.

Not the loud kind,
not the look‑at‑me kind,
but the quiet goodness
folded into the everyday.

It’s in the way we speak gently
when the world is rushing past.
It’s in the way we notice the lonely
at morning tea,
or choose kindness
when being right would feel so much easier.
And Jesus says we’re "Light "--
not a spotlight,
not a blaze,
just a steady glow
in schoolyards,
offices,
kitchens,
car rides,
checkout lines.

A lamp on a table,
not hidden,
not ashamed,
just shining enough
to show the way to grace.
And here’s the mystery --
when our small acts of love
meet the shadows around us,
they whisper of a greater Light.
The Light that shines through cracked vessels,
through tired hearts,
through ordinary people
who dare to believe
that their everyday life
can illuminate the world.
Salt.
Light.
Nothing spectacular --
just faithful. Just present.
Just His.
(c) Don Stott 2026 Eliab.com


Eliab Puppet Play Titled Salt & Light www.eliab.com/salt--light.html

I have now added a poem version of this Christmas Story and also an audio version of the story as well. Here's the link -
https://www.eliab.com/christmaspooh-corner.html

Some years ago I wrote a version of 'The Lord's Prayer" on the guitar. I have now updated the tune using Ai at Suno.com. 
OUR FATHER ©Don Stott 2025 

Here's the link to the original Christmas story called "Dan's Christmas Surprise." 
 See the video below that I created based  on the story.