If you know those places of wrestling with and walking through periods of disenchantment when it comes to faith and God and church, this (Will Carlisle’s The Crocus) is an album for those honest questions and those honest places to be layed bare and given validation. Raw. Poignant. Healing. Liberating.
The opening track begins a journey in the darkness that leads to towards the final track, proclaiming the doubts in the face of the mystery, as the place where the doubtless grows, the place where the bitter place of haunting fears becomes the place where you find hope. Where you can say, this is my hallelujah.
Where is My Hallelujah
I’ve been asking lots of questions, with answers I don’t know.
I’m feeling less like Nazareth, and more like Jericho.
The Sunday morning pastors read Scriptures that I know, they say I’m just like Lazarus, but I’m not sure I rose.
And it’s funny how I can’t shake who I’m afraid I’ll be someday, it’s funny how I’m homesick for a place I’ve never been.
The more I change myself, the more I feel like I belong back down in hell. And its scary how I can’t shake who I’m afraid I’ll be someday. It’s stupid that I’m homesick for some place that I’ve never been.
Where is my hallelujah. Where is my hallelujah. Where is my hallelujah.
I used to feel it in my bones.
Where is my hallelujah.
I used to call that place my home.
Where is my hallelujah
Was it all just make believe
Where is my hallelujah.
Did you take it back from me.
The Stories of my Life 