Sit At Your Feet

The chorus came before the song did — a melody and lyric that had been carried for years: "I just want to sit at your feet, look into your eyes, find the love that I need." Every attempt to write it into a full song stalled. The words held. The shape wouldn't come.

The breakthrough came on a dog walk. A plane passed overhead, its hum settling on a note, and with it came a line that hadn't been looked for: "What did I do, to deserve your love, the lengths you've gone for me?" Within three weeks, the whole song was complete.

Luke reflects on what the season of writing came out of — a period where it had become easy to go through the motions of worship and service while drifting from the thing itself. Trying to earn what had already been freely given. Performance dressed up as devotion. The line "choose the better thing" arrived in the middle of that, almost by accident. It wasn't meant to be profound. But it said what the whole season had been trying to say.

As we were finalising “Friend to me” for release, we first noticed the connection: the question at the heart of this song — "What did I do to deserve your love?" — meets its answer in the pre-chorus plainly: "Paid it all, you took on my cross / Made a way for my seat in your courts." Hebrews 10. The veil torn. Access given. There was no better day for it to arrive than Good Friday — and no better response to what the cross accomplished than to sit at his feet, stay at his feet, and pour out at his feet.

We always knew this song would be among our first releases. It didn't make the worship night — it was waiting for its own moment.

Something else was only noticed after the release.“Friend to me” had opened with: "Help me to see in the simple things." Sit At Your Feet answered it without knowing: "Help me to choose the better thing." The outro resolved it further: "Resolve to see the way you see." Three phrases across two songs — from asking for sight, to making a choice, to holding that sight as a decision. Nobody planned it. It was only after the release that anyone noticed the thread.

Released as a gift to the one listener and to the Church — for Good Friday and for all our days.