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.