Mark Bishop is still writing songs about second chances

AMY TURNER

Mark Bishop knows something about second chances, and it comes through in every corner of Where Do Blessings Come From?, the singer-songwriter’s new project for Sonlite Records. “This album, if it has a theme, seems to be about recognizing the good in life,” Bishop says, describing a record built around healing and hope rather than nostalgia for what’s already passed.

That distinction matters to him. Bishop isn’t interested in looking backward. The songs here argue, again and again, that the best is still ahead: joy that hasn’t arrived yet, peace that’s still being written. One standout track leans into a simple, defiant promise, that no matter how far gone someone feels their happiness is, there’s more waiting for them. It’s a small idea stated plainly, but Bishop sells it with the conviction of someone who’s lived it.

“God gives us hope,” he says. “This world most often promises much more than it can deliver. But God promises our greatest joy is yet to be experienced.”

The focus track, “Over and over again,” takes a different approach, tracing familiar Biblical figures (David, Daniel, the Exodus story) as evidence for a larger pattern: a God who shows up, repeatedly, across generations. The chorus hammers that repetition home, turning history into reassurance.

Between the half dozen singles that have carried Bishop through the better part of 2025, starting with “Grandkids,” and the newer material rounding out the collection, the record moves fluidly between the domestic and the divine. It’s a range that’s become something of a signature for him, and it’s part of why Where Do Blessings Come From? plays less like a collection of singles and more like a sustained argument.

For Bishop, that argument starts at the very beginning. “There was no love before God,” he says, “just an empty void.” In his telling, creation wasn’t only the physical world, it was the invention of an entire emotional register: love, peace, joy, all of it as new then as the mountains and the seas.

Blessings, in Bishop’s framing, are the residue of that act. “Little nods and kisses from an eternal plane,” he calls them, artifacts of a love too large for heaven to fully hold, occasionally spilling down into ordinary life.

It’s a big theological claim wrapped in an unpretentious package, which is very much the point. Bishop has built a career writing songs that carry weight without ever sounding heavy, and Where Do Blessings Come From? keeps that streak alive. Ask him where the title comes from, and the answer loops back to something close to a thesis statement: “The God who created you, that’s where your blessings come from.”

What Jesus meant by “you will know them by their fruit” in Matthew 7

JEFF TURNER

Matthew 7’s well-known phrase about knowing people by their fruit is frequently applied to believers as a way of testing whether someone’s faith is genuine, but I believe that reading misses the actual point Jesus was making. Rather than a not a tool for sizing up fellow Christians, isn’t this a warning about false prophets who are skilled at looking like the real thing while leading people astray? I believe Jesus was telling his listeners how to spot a deceiver, not how to audit a believer.

The fruit he was pointing to includes things like moral character, lifestyle choices, and the kind of people who follow and surround the teacher in question.

A false prophet may sound convincing, but a close look at how he lives and who he attracts will reveal the truth.

So then, you will know them by their fruits.

Matthew 7:20


Sonny Clardy signs with Butler Music Group

Butler Music Group (BMG) has announced the signing of Southern Gospel artist Sonny Clardy to its artist roster.

Clardy, a singer, songwriter, music evangelist, and speaker, has served in full-time ministry for more than 25 years. He’s known for his heartfelt songwriting, powerful vocals, and Christ-centered message that has encouraged audiences across the country.

As part of the new partnership, Clardy is currently in the studio recording a new album under the direction of producer Les Butler. The project features several of Nashville’s top musicians and will showcase Clardy’s signature sound alongside a collection of songs he penned himself.

“I couldn’t be more excited to be working with Sonny on this new album,” said Les Butler, owner and producer of Butler Music Group. “He is an exceptionally gifted singer and songwriter whose music genuinely ministers to people. Every song he sings carries authenticity and a message that reaches the hearts of listeners.”

“I truly believe this will be the finest recording of his career,” Butler added.

Clardy shared his own excitement about the partnership. “I feel honored to have Les Butler produce this project,” he said. “We are looking forward to great things together!”

The album is expected to release in late summer 2026, with more details, including the first radio single and release date, to be announced in the coming weeks.

The weight that grows heavier and the fellowship that must notice

JEFF TURNER

The longer you walk through the tunnel, the heavier the weight becomes, not lighter. Suffering does not diminish simply because you have endured it faithfully. It compounds. It settles into the bones. And this is precisely why the fellowship of believers is not a luxury but a necessity. We are called to carry one another’s burdens when the load grows too heavy for one set of shoulders.

All of us face trials. This is not the experience of the spiritually weak or the theologically deficient. It is the common inheritance of every soul who draws breath in a broken world. And because all of us face them, all of us need the discerning spirit that can look across the room at a brother or sister and perceive that something has shifted, that the weight has quietly grown heavier than it appears.

Where the love of God is genuinely at work, that discernment is not merely a social grace. It is a gift of the Spirit, and it carries with it a solemn responsibility to move toward the one who is sinking rather than past them.

 Bear one another’s burdens, and thereby fulfill the law of Christ.

Galatians 6:2

A husband’s recovery from alcoholism gave the Jordan family band a new season

AMY TURNER

There’s a strength that doesn’t announce itself. It shows up in the small, unglamorous moments: showing up to work while your world is quietly falling apart, keeping a family fed and functioning when you feel like you’re the only one holding it together. For Heather Rose Jordan, that strength became so woven into her daily life that she stopped noticing it as strength at all. It just felt like survival.

Heather sings, writes songs, and works as a product manager within The Jordan Family Band, a group built entirely around her family. Her husband Hutch handles production and sound alongside his own songwriting and vocals, and his journey through alcoholism and back out again has become central to how the couple now understands their own story, and how they hope to help others understand theirs.

It wasn’t until a conversation with a client, of all people, that Heather says the weight of what her family had walked through really landed.

“Me and Hutch were talking one morning and I was telling him about a conversation I had with a client of mine about our story,” Heather says. “I told her about the years Hutch spent in alcoholism, about how I felt like I lived as a single mom even though I wasn’t, and then going septic and getting so sick all while trying to open a business. And then came Hutch spending three months away in rehab. And when I finished, she just stopped and said, Heather, I’m so sorry, you’re so strong. I would have never known you went through all that.”

“I told Hutch, even though we’re quickly approaching one year of his sobriety, it truly feels like a lifetime ago,” she continues. “Since he came home, we’ve had so much fun. We’ve laughed, loved each other better, and truly enjoyed our little family so much. God has restored so much in our lives, and it’s hard to believe we were ever that broken. Truly, when we turn to Jesus, I believe he protects our minds from past traumas, shame, and brokenness. Now we get to live fully in his forgiveness and his restoration. And when we look back now, we don’t have to see what Satan tried to destroy. We only see the goodness and the faithfulness of God.”

It’s a lot to carry in one sentence: a business launch, a life-threatening illness, a marriage stretched thin by addiction, three months of separation while her husband got sober two states or two towns away, whatever the distance actually was, it must have felt like the whole world. And yet what stands out isn’t the hardship itself. It’s how quickly, in Heather’s telling, the hardship has receded into something almost unrecognizable, softened by everything that’s come since.

That’s the part worth sitting with. Nearly a year out from Hutch’s sobriety, the Jordans describe a household that sounds almost unremarkable in the best way: laughter, ease, a family simply enjoying being a family. For anyone who has lived alongside addiction, that description is not small. It’s the whole thing.

Alcoholism has a way of convincing the people living with it that recovery is either impossible or reserved for someone else, someone with more willpower, more support, more luck. The Jordans’ story pushes back on that. Hutch’s path out started, as it so often does, with a single admission: that he was an alcoholic, and that he couldn’t fix it alone.

That admission is the hinge point in nearly every recovery story, and it’s the same hinge point the Bible points to for sin more broadly. Scripture doesn’t soften its language on drunkenness, it’s named plainly as sin, but it also doesn’t stop there. The same faith that names the problem offers the way out: confession, surrender, and a willingness to let go of self-reliance.

For the Jordans, that surrender didn’t erase the three months of separation or the years that came before it. What it did was reframe them. Heather doesn’t describe herself as someone who survived a tragedy and is now just getting by. She describes a family restored, laughing again, loving each other better than before.

Jesus said, “I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly” (John 10:10). For a family that once measured its days by how badly they were breaking, that promise of abundant life isn’t an abstraction. It’s Tuesday mornings that feel light. It’s a marriage where both people show up. It’s a household where sobriety isn’t just the absence of drinking, it’s the presence of something better.