From an Australia Day worship night to songs crossing oceans — the story of His word, what’s born of obedience, and his promise to watch over His word and to perform it.

Sit At Your Feet crossed oceans through CCLI SongSelect — the first fruit of a word from a pastor that vssls is “a gift from within the Church, for the Church”.

A word prayed over us together in 2024 — half-shelved, almost forgotten. Two years later, to the day, our song aired on radio for the first time. Then, a nation-wide radio feature we never applied for. "He who is the Glory of Israel does not lie or change his mind" "You have seen correctly, for I am watching to see that my word is fulfilled."

The car conversation — uni stress that became Philippians 4 — turned prayer with melody . For the version of you lying awake: a peace that guards your heart even when you can't guard yourself.

Three songs, one arc we didn't design: friendship, to posture, to filling. Wherever you are on that road, this EP is the path — in order.

The song that carries the line that named us — "my life your vessel, come fill completely." The whole life, held out. Not eighty percent with a backup plan.

A community radio host played our song unasked, and the town became one of our highest-streaming cities in the world. We can't account for it, but there’s more to the story.

From the beginning there was a stirring we couldn't name — like the sound of rain before the clouds. Then someone heard Sit At Your Feet in Kyiv, on Good Friday. The rain we heard, we're beginning to see.

Released on Good Friday, remembering the great lengths the Anointed went to, and what we have access to today. A prayer for one posture — sitting at the feet of Jesus, staying, and pouring out all of yourself.

A word prayed over us together in 2024 — half-shelved, almost forgotten. Two years later, to the day, our first song aired on radio for the first time. Sometimes the meaning arrives later. Right on time. "I am watching to see that my word is fulfilled"

We started noticing certain cities for one reason — someone there kept coming back to the song. Port Harcourt. Bacolod City. We don't know their names, but God does. And he’s in the simple things, if only we’d ask him to “Help me to see.”

We asked God to make room in us, like empty vessels, and pour. You asked us for devotionals and opportunities to go deeper. Now we bring the invitation.

A prayer between three friends, written on an ordinary day, in a lounge room — and within a week of release. it had reached around two dozen nations we'd never set foot in. We can't go everywhere. The song can.

On the hottest day in seventeen years, with the venue close to being unavailable, His presence filled the room. Strangers drove in because God called them — and spoke back the very sentence we'd been wrestling with in private.