stories behind shameless praise...

Each of these songs on Shameless Praise began with words — with meaning, confession, and prayer formed over the long arc of my life. I write lyrics as an act of response: to Scripture, to lived experience, and often to moments of worship themselves. Some of these songs were written decades ago and later refined as my understanding deepened; others were written spontaneously, without music in mind, as an immediate response to truth spoken or revealed.

Here's a bit more on the background of each song in Shameless Praise.

--Funner Steve

Consecrated To You 

“Consecrated To You” is a song of covenantal worship with explicit atonement theology wrapped in a corporate profession. I want my songs to be clear – we’re  not talking about some vague “spirituality.” Sin happened. Blood was shed. Forgiveness is real. 

The Bridge narrows the path even more:

No other way has been made to know You
Price has been paid, consecrated to You

The chorus is Romans 12 worship – a full-bodied and full-hearted offering of our lives. It’s internal (mind and soul), physical (bodies), volitional (control), dispositional (hopes, fears) and temporal (days… years). The goal is systematic surrender: worship as total consecration, not emotional expression. 

And it’s a life-long process. Verse two mirrors my favorite passage, Philippians 3: taking hold of that for which I was taken hold of. There’s only one way – take up my cross and follow Jesus. I hope the continual “offering” in the song will encourage you to continually offer your whole self to Christ and His kingdom.

Shameless Praise

The title cut, “Shameless Praise,” is a song of worship reorientation that I feel tugging at my heart almost every day. Will I break free from the chains of my self-awareness in offering my life to God?

 At its core, the song moves through a very classical biblical arc:

  • Unseen bondage (“Trapped in chains I can't quite see”)
  • Appeal for perception (illumination, not rescue yet) (“Oh Lord help me to perceive”)
  • Reclaimed identity (“I am yours”)
  • Volitional response (“So I praise you shamelessly”)

The word “shameless” could easily slide into emotional exhibitionism or performative vulnerability. But here, “shameless” is the abandonment of pride, the rejection of fear, and the refusal to hide. 

“I cast my pride / All of my strife / Everything that makes me want to hide”

Biblically, “shamelessness” before God is not lack of dignity — it is the right placement of dignity. The chorus brings this point home:

  • This orientation is from God (“Is what you seek”)
  • It locates authority in “my King” (covenant, not punishment)
  • And we frame worship as an offering, not a performance (“what I bring”)

The second verse moves to physical actions – falling, kneeling, lifting hands – all directed upward. Then the closing bridge is the response, leaning on Romans 12: “whole heart, whole life, living sacrifice.” Praise becomes our life posture, stepping out of fear and laying down what keeps us bound. We’ve come full circle from the chains that trapped us at the outset of the song: unseen bondage, perceived bondage, surrendered bondage, freedom.

I wrote the song in direct response to an exhortation by one of our worship leaders at Big House Church who said these two words as a prayerful introduction to our worship time… “Shameless Praise… Shameless Praise.” It’s the only song I’ve ever written, in its entirety, during a church service and later “found” the melody.

Build Your Temple

“Build Your Temple” is a formation song, less about atmosphere than about shaping a habitation for God’s presence.

The song is grounded in revelation, not sensation. Worship flows from knowing God’s will, not chasing experience. And the chorus keeps things in order – God is building, we are responding. God fashions. God is in control. My “job” is consent.

And it comes at a cost… of myself. That’s the bridge. The stones are cut. My life is laid down. Pain. Loss. That’s the “reality check.” Death of “self” is the prerequisite for dwelling. And the result? Less of me and more of Jesus (John 3). That’s sanctification. Spiritual formation in and through the tough times. And I’m not alone.

The song intentionally shifts from individual to plural because the “temple” is not just… me. God is building a dwelling place, a royal priesthood, which is not a singular concept. It’s  individual indwelling AND corporate dwelling.

The story arc of “Build Your Temple” is a long one. It’s our entire lives of God building and preparing and dwelling as both the individual indwelling and corporate dwelling are fashioned.

Off Of Me

This song reflects a core struggle seen in the Psalms – the self as the problem, and God as the reorientation.

The first verse is how I often feel: “What will set me free from me?” It’s easy to look outward for the source of my struggles, when the struggle is within. Much of the Psalms reflect this perspective. I missed the mark. I am blind. This isn’t drama, it’s just reality.

Ahh but there’s a “bridge” to  hope…

“Then Grace comes to my rescue
Eyes off me and onto You”

This is the crucial theological moment. Grace does not necessarily remove struggle instantly or validate my introspection. Grace redirects my attention… off of me. As the psalmist said, “Why are you cast down, O my soul? Hope in God.”

God’s grace doesn’t make me feel good where I am. Grace turns my gaze. And I join in through  my professions and actions… “be my vision and my song…. I fix my eyes.” This is worship in the reality of our days: not necessarily emotional connection but rather a reorientation of attention and my affections.

The second verse turns the focus to Jesus and what He has done. And in response, “I fix my eyes, change my view, Off of me and onto You.” The solution isn’t self-improvement, it’s direction, focus and orientation. Unless we replace our self focus with greater focus on God, we’ll likely revert 

The closing bridge serves as the final re-orientation – to God’s worthiness. He is worthy. And He is worthy of my heart’s gaze. My affection now rightly re-centered. Off of me and onto Him.

Hosting Your Presence

At first glance, “hosting” could imply human control over divine presence — but the posture isn’t my initiative, it’s in my desire. Psalm 27:4 – “One thing have I asked of the Lord…that I may dwell in the house of the Lord.”

The bridge refines the focus to the “one thing” of Jesus by drawing directly on Philippians 3: “Forgetting what lies behind, I reach for what is the prize.” I continue with Paul’s thought in the chorus:

“To know You, Jesus You’re my goal
To follow You, heart, strength and soul”

This anchors the entire song. Presence is defined not as atmosphere, sensation or manifestation. Presence is knowing Jesus.

The second verse is about ceasing my striving and recognizing His presence. I just need to open my eyes and see He is “right here to be found.” This slowing down isn’t passive, it’s attentive. God’s presence is perceived, not produced by works. So my closing “welcome” is a wholehearted  acknowledgment of the reality of God’s presence, not a permission for Him to be present.

I wrote this song after studying some of Bill Johnson’s teachings on how hosting God’s presence in his everyday life is central to Bill’s life.

Unveiled Faces

This is a psalm of access and unhindered Worship. Here we move from the longing of the Psalms to the fulfillment in Christ. What was once restricted is now opened — a theme the  Psalms anticipate but do not fully resolve. Here we sing on the far side of the deepest hopes of the Psalms.

The plea of the first verse is answered in the chorus in a way the psalmists could only have dreamed of (and did dream of). While the Psalms ask “who may ascend” and “when shall I come before the Lord,” the new covenant answers with unmediated access through Christ. As Paul said, we have “unveiled faces” ( 2 Cor 3:18, the core meditation of this song). 

This is a fulfilled psalm, but we come humbly and bowing, not as receiving something we deserve. The open access we have to God through Christ leads to reverence, not entitlement. The unveiling does not remove awe, it intensifies it.

The second verse is about how God’s presence changes us, instead of us changing to try to enter or earn God’s presence. The lens for our lives is God's grace and pleasure not our works and standards of measure. 

Then the closing bridge states the issue plainly. No veil. No wall. Not even my own fears can separate me because Jesus paid the way. This isn’t about vague universalism. The “unveiled faces” access is grounded in atonement, not aspiration. And so we can live and worship openly and unveiled before our God.

Satisfy Us

So we close this seven-song “canon” with a song that is shaped directly by Psalm 90, the only psalm attributed to Moses and the Bible’s clearest meditation on the brevity of human life. Many of the Bible’s most memorable phrases on time come from this psalm (I count at least 21 references to time in the Psalm), and that’s where this song starts:

“All our days are like grass they just fade
80 years and then we fly away” (Psalm 90:5–10)

Next, we touch the theological center of the Psalm, an honest reckoning with time:

"Teach us Lord how to number our days
So Your heart of wisdom we may gain”

Then we come to the heart of Psalm 90, and this song, in the chorus: “Satisfy us in the morning with Your unfailing love.”

This line is lifted straight from Psalm 90:14. Biblically, satisfaction is the only adequate response to pain that is so present  in life, labor that can feel meaningless, and days that pass quickly by. The answer is to “sing for joy” in the morning and thus find our joy every day in the context God gives for our days.

The second verse turns to the appeal of Psalm 90 – that the work of our hands will have meaning. If life is short and hard, Oh God, let what we do count. It’s the sober reflection of the span of our lives.

The bridge hits me hardest as the tension returns:

“Why should I work? Why should I try?
If there's just pain here on this side”

The answer isn’t in hiding from or ignoring the pain. It’s in finding God’s rest right in the midst of it all. No explanation needed. No escape. No desperate grasping for control. Instead, rest grounded in God’s steadfast love and finding our satisfaction every morning in Him.

I don’t know that I intentionally wrote this song in the year I became a sexagenarian. But it fits. Psalm 90 brings us back to God in times of trial and transition. Here we find God’s satisfaction, and rest. A good place to complete this seven-song journey.

--Funner Steve