This song was born in a prison cell.

Our friend and teammate JT wrote Creator God during a dark and difficult season — imprisoned unjustly. But even in that place, God was present.

Even in confinement, creation was speaking.

Even in silence, He was still singing.

JT said:

“It’s the song God gave me when I was in prison. I was thinking a lot about Colossians 1:15–17 — about thrones, kingdoms, rulers and authorities in the unseen world, and why He created them. I also remembered hiking in the mountains, where His creativity is so clearly on display. It all came together in this song.”

She first sang it to Wombat with just a guitar. He added a beautiful piano accompaniment. Then Nelson helped shape it into the version you hear on the album — a collaborative act of worship and restoration.

“Creator God, You made worlds beyond our thinking / The universe is singing Your song…”

This is more than a song — it’s a declaration of truth in a place of trial.

A reminder that even when we feel stuck or overwhelmed, God remains the Creator, Sustainer, Redeemer, and Lord.

And the story doesn’t stop there:

The band name De Facto September was chosen in honour of JT’s story — to reclaim the month of her imprisonment, for His glory.

If you’ve ever been to a Phil Wickham concert, you’ll know what we were aiming for with this one —

hands lifted high, hearts on fire, voices belting out praise.

The Greatest Gift is our joyful anthem — a full-out celebration of the love of God poured out through Jesus. From the first line, we wanted this song to be bright, bold, and bursting with worship.

It started as a challenge: “Can we write a song that sounds like joy?”

Wombat nailed the music. I leaned into lyrics that declare the Gospel in full colour. The result is a track that we hope has you jumping, singing, and remembering just how good our God is.

“Oh, the greatest gift, Your love divine / You came for us, gave us new life…”

Let this one fill your home, your car, your church — and your soul.

And if this one has you reaching for the repeat button… that’s exactly what we were aiming for!

Hallelujah, what a Saviour!

“Before Abraham was, I AM.” – John 8:58

This worship song is rooted in one of the most powerful names of God — I AM.

First revealed to Moses in Exodus 3, and echoed by Jesus in John 8, this name speaks of a God who is eternal, unchanging, and ever-present.

We wrote I AM as a reminder that whatever season we’re in —

joy or suffering, doubt or faith, beginning or ending —

God remains the same.

He is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

“I AM, the God who never changes / I AM, the One who always reigns / In every breath, in every moment / You are, You are, I AM.”

This song is more than a title track — it’s a declaration.

A proclamation of who God is.

And an invitation to anchor your soul in Him.

Of all the books in the Bible, Philippians has always stood out to me. It’s full of encouragement and joy — not rebuke, not correction. Just a heartfelt letter from Paul to a church he clearly loved, urging them to keep going.

But what amazes me most is when he wrote it.

From prison. Near death. And still, he says:

“To live is Christ, to die is gain.”

What faith. What perspective.

If I live — great! I get to serve Jesus.

If I die — even better! I get to be with Jesus.

That’s what this song is built on — a joyful surrender to Christ, no matter what comes. And the music Wombat created for it captures that spirit perfectly — it’s full of energy, praise, and a celebratory party atmosphere that reflects just how good it is to belong to Jesus.

“To live is Christ, to die is gain / In every joy, in every pain / I’ll lift my voice, my heart proclaim…”

It’s a declaration, a promise, and a song of hope — and we pray it encourages you like it’s encouraged us.

Before there was a band… before there was an album… there was this song.

Ever the Same was the very first song we wrote — and in many ways, it’s where De Facto September began.

It started when I kept hearing a Rob Thomas song of the same name — he wrote it about his wife, but every time I heard that title, I couldn’t shake the thought:

“That’s what Jesus’ love is like — ever the same.”

Unchanging. Constant. Faithful. No matter how far we stray.

So I wrote some lyrics. They sat quietly for a while… until one day Wombat was hanging out at our place. I asked if he ever wanted to write songs. He said yes, but struggled with lyrics. I handed him mine.

And that’s how it began — music to words, friendship to ministry, one step of obedience at a time.

“Jesus, ever the same, through trials and the rain / In every circumstance, Your love remains unchanged…”

This song opened the door for everything that followed. Without it, this album wouldn’t exist.

I wanted to write a song for Easter. But not just a song — a song that would tell the whole story.

From the upper room to the empty tomb.

From bread and wine to the crown of thorns.

From betrayal, darkness, and death… to resurrection and life.

Cross to Crown is one of the longest songs on the album — because this story deserves space. Each verse moves the narrative forward, echoing the greatest love ever shown.

When I sent the lyrics to Wombat, he wrote:

“As soon as I read the first line, the melody was already there — in the ascending narrative, the intensifying tragedy of abandonment, the darkness and deep silence of that night, and the glorious triumphant climax. I felt I merely grabbed the melody from that age-old story, tapped it into my keyboard, and breathed it out of my lungs.”

“Stone rolled back, the earth did shake, / Chains of death began to break! / Behold the risen King of light, / Grave defeated by His might!”

We know we can’t capture the full weight of what Christ did — but how could we not try?

This is the heart of our hope. The cross was not the end.

From thorns to throne.

From cross to crown.

This one was written from a place of deep grief — not just about it, but for it.

I wrote In the Silence for a friend who had just lost his 16-year-old son. There were no answers. Just sorrow. I wanted to offer something that might sit beside him in that pain — not to fix it, but to remind him that he wasn’t alone.

When I sent the lyrics to Wombat and told him it was a song for grief, he hesitated to even read it at first — the weight of it was so heavy. But when I explained, “It’s meant to help with grief, not dwell in it,” he understood — and got to work.

It wasn’t easy to get right. The first version wasn’t quite there, but the second? It just clicked. Wombat said the hardest part was not wanting to let down the lyrics. That tells you how much heart went into the music.

“In the silence, He is near / In each tear, and every fear…”

This is a song for the broken. For those in mourning.

And for those who need to be reminded: God is with you in the silence — and He carries you every step.

I recently lost my cousin — suddenly, and far too young. I shared this song with his sisters, and they said it helped. I pray it helps you too.

There are times when life unravels. When plans fall apart.

That’s what happened to our team — Wombat and Nelson included — when circumstances outside their control scattered us.

It was a time marked by uncertainty, fear, and disorientation. But in the middle of all that, something unexpected emerged:

beauty.

Wombat found himself sitting for hours at an old, clunky piano with a few chance friends. And slowly, this song began to form.

You can hear the sweetness of community in the harmonies.

You can feel the warmth of safety in the melody.

Wombat said it best:

“In these friends, I experienced the loving arms of God around me — a community that supported me through the longest and most uncertain of times.”

“Your loving arms / Where I find my refuge strong / In Your embrace, the place where I belong…”

This song is for when the world feels too loud.

For when you falter.

For when your heart is breaking.

It’s a reminder that you are not alone, and that God’s arms are open — strong, steady, and always welcoming.

We didn’t plan for this song to exist.

In July, we had two intense weeks together — recording sessions that stretched late into the night. We were focused on finishing the songs we had already written.

But then… this happened.

I wrote the lyrics for Fullness of Life one evening — drawn to the promise of John 10:10, where Jesus says:

“I have come that they may have life, and have it more abundantly.”

And unusually for me, I already had a tune in my head for the verses and chorus.

Wombat encouraged me to sing it to him (I warned him in advance…).

But somehow, even through my very rough singing, he got it.

He started building around that simple melody — experimenting with instruments — and what came out was not just what I’d imagined… it was better.

It was probably the quickest song we’ve written and recorded, and it instantly became one of our favourites. A song that speaks to restoration, wholeness, and the lavish grace of God.

🎶 “You give life, and life abundant / More than I could ever dream…”

We chased it down quickly — but the truth it tells?

That’s eternal.

In Him, we find healing, hope, and joy overflowing.

In Him, we find the fullness of life.

“This is a song for embracing weakness.”

That’s how Wombat described it — and really, that’s what it became for all of us.

He wrote The Upside-Down Kingdom during one of the hardest seasons of his life — physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually. He thought he was falling from grace… but discovered something incredible in that fall:

he was being lifted.

Lifted into deeper love, greater maturity, and a fuller understanding of God’s upside-down ways.

This song became his anthem — reclaiming grief as growth, weakness as worship, loss as transformation.

And we hope it becomes that for others too.

“In the upside-down kingdom, the weak are strong / We find home where we don’t belong…”

The song also carries the weight of injustice. Wombat once played it for friends who earn $3 a day. They nodded when he explained it. They understood — even if they couldn’t see that kingdom yet.

Who will show them that hope is real?

That love really can rewrite the story?

This is a song of reversal. Of resurrection. Of a King who turned death into life, and sacrifice into salvation.

A couple of years ago, one of the little girls in our home group drew me a picture. It had butterflies, flowers… and the words:

“Everlasting God is always working.”

I loved that she’d made it for me — it went straight on the fridge. I saw it every day. And eventually, I started singing the words. They felt like the perfect title for a song — simple, profound, full of faith.

That little phrase became the heartbeat of this track. I built the lyrics around those words, and Wombat (our musical magician) put some beautiful music to it.

We even invited the little girl who inspired it to help us shape the rhythm of the words at the end of each chorus — so what you hear in the final version? That’s her input too.

“Everlasting God is always working / Through the storm and through the night / Every single promise He is keeping / Faithful hands, guiding light…”

This track is a reminder that God is always present — always moving — even when we don’t see it. From the blooming of flowers to the healing of broken hearts, His mercy carries on… and on and on and on.