KELLY MINTER

When we first heard from Kelly Minter, she was a ringleader in the late 90s 'gal with a guitar' movement, known for introspective songwriting, inviting vocals, organic acoustics, and an endearing personality. And now, nearly three years after the release of her Good Day debut, the charming single of the same name, and tours with the likes of Bebo Norman, SONICFLOOD, and Watermark, we find the gifted troubadour rising to new crests in both her deft artistic creativity and relevant analysis of spirituality.

"Since my last project, I've been engulfed in a lot of songwriting and journaling, and with no record deal on the table or business expectations to match, I was really able to write from the heart." recalls the kind hearted Minter in a peaceful tone. "After parting ways with my last record label, I went through a season of dismantling, all the while attempting to submit myself to the process that the Lord was leading me through.  My rather thin patience was stretched as I waited for Him to lead me through to whatever was next." 

That subsequent stage for Minter turned out to be interest by the Here to Him label imprint Cross Driven Records, who after eyeing the multi-talented artist's debut disc and charting her progress during various showcases and songwriting circles inked this ever developing artist to a brand new deal. Following the signing, Minter returned to those journals and notes, revisiting her thoughts from the past few years and pulling them all under the appropriately titled umbrella of Wrestling the Angels, which throughout the course of eleven songs chronicles that period of deeply personal grappling with her Maker. 

"I pulled the title for the record, and for the song itself, from Genesis where it talks about Jacob wrestling the Angel of God all night to the point of exhaustion," reveals Minter. "Even in his weary state, Jacob said, 'I will not let You go until you bless me.'  He refused to excuse himself from the trial until He received what the Lord desired to give Him. I have endured my own periods of struggle, but feel like I have walked out so much richer because God cut away the branches that were not bearing fruit and bolstered the ones that were." 

Not only did Minter find confirmation in her quest through just the initial partnership with Cross Driven, but she became especially certain after the label connected her with contemporary Christian legend Margaret Becker, who along with Paul Buono, partnered as the project's production team. Minter had always been a fan of Becker's work and looked to her as an example of quintessential songwriting, so meeting face to face and fleshing out the project's details was indeed a dream come true.  "It was very surreal working with her on this project and I can't say enough about her skills as a producer and artist." Minter reflects. "Once I was able to settle into actually working with someone I always held in such high esteem, I became very comfortable and encouraged by how much she stretched and pushed me." 

From the lyrical composition to the varied sonic explorations, Wrestling the Angels shows Minter at her progressive best with each cut expanding upon her already established stylistic pedigree and taking her narrative ruminations to the next level. Besides the title cut's living room warmth and its corresponding message of perseverance, benchmark tracks include the tenderized "Offering," which meshes the necessity to take up our crosses on a daily basis over an acoustic backdrop and the Prague Symphony Orchestra's jaw dropping beauty. Such reliance on the Lord continues throughout the orchestral swelling of "Say the Word," the lushly arranged "Yet Will I Praise," and the assertive delicacy on "Love Has Come," further enhancing the record's stylistic hybrid that also boasts the bubbly pop nugget "Open Up the Sky," the stripped down, heart baring ballad "You're Listening," and the aggressively approached "Walk Me Through." 

There's even a pair of tunes Minter co-wrote with the esteemed Mary Danna (known for her work with Trisha Yearwood and Carolyn Dawn Johnson) that deal with longing for intimacy with Christ ("Say the Word") and worship derived refuge ("Shade"). Like the remainder of the disc's choice cuts, such selections are essential additions to the collections of any Margaret Becker, Shawn Colvin, or early Susan Ashton fan looking for a torch carrying figurehead of this generation's female singer/songwriter movement. "It seems I gravitate towards an honest and ponderous approach.  The sounds on this record are ever evolving, but still carry a cohesive thread, thanks to Margaret and Paul," explains Minter of the quality filled project. "You'll get a sense of all that is wrapped up in what it means to have faith, to doubt, to persevere and, ultimately, to come out with God's blessing.  One of my greatest hopes is that the listener will feel understood." 

Aside from just impacting fans within musical contexts, Minter has another creative venture up her sleeve (the soon to be released book Between Water and Wine) that simultaneously confirms her anointing for ministry while enhancing the well-seasoned traveler's songwriting credibility. Beyond just a way to drive CD sales and enhance the new record's visibility, Minter's committed to shed light on what she calls "the hopeful struggle" we all face in our Christian walks with that uplifting project. "When Christ called his servants to fill up jars with water, He did so at a wedding that was out of wine.  This must have seemed strange or confusing to them, but they were obedient nonetheless," she relates. "In the end, He turned that water to wine, which is one of the many encouragements and spiritual truths that confirm God's faithfulness to us." 

Minter relates this prolific season of her life that spawned both Wrestling the Angels and Between Water and Wine back to her deeply rooted spiritual heritage while growing up just outside of Washington D.C. to which she credits her family- especially Dad and Pastor Mike Minter, the prominently revered host of Salem XM Radio's broadcast "Compelling Truth." "When I put pen to paper for either a song or a book, I can't help but retrace my steps to my spiritual roots and my relationship with Christ," concludes Minter of her families' tight knit, Christ-centered upbringing. "Having that Christian foundation and being encouraged to make my faith my own, rather than just adhering to an already established template, has really been a blessing that's built my foundation. I look forward to passing along anything that I have plundered from my own struggles, and hope to be a vessel that helps strengthen others.

After two years of behind-the-scenes work, Kelly's first book, "Water Into Wine" is currently available in stores and on-line outlets.  A sneak preview of her first chapter, entitled "To The Brim" is featured below:

Just the other night I was perusing the streets of Chicago.  I had the evening off while on a radio promotional tour, and I simply couldn't resist the rush that accompanies braving the city streets at night. (Okay, I was on Michigan Avenue and it was 5:30, BUT it was daylight savings, so at least it was legitimately dark).  As I walked, I encountered the city gamut, everything from taxi drivers giving me unfriendly gestures because I unthinkably tried to cross the street when the sign said WALK, to a man hand-feeding his dog Gino's pizza, to a disposable-incomed yuppie purchasing at least eight pairs of Diesel pants (which by my estimation would run him well over $1,000), all the way to the commonplace homeless.  All of this fascinates me: the convergence of the rich and poor, sprinkled with the middle class. Perhaps not unlike the group that gathered at the wedding at Cana. 

Normally I drink it all in like a milkshake, several entities blended together into one big tasty experience.  But this particular night I was cut to the quick by someone who became her own entity: a homeless woman in a wheelchair asking for money.  For some reason, she, out of every other beggar on the street, broke my heart.  As I passed her wheelchair, I felt the pressing need to do something, to encourage or connect with her in some meaningful way; yet, somehow, at the same time, stopping for her was the last thing I wanted to do.  So I kept walking, unsuccessfully trying to quiet my conscience: Giving her money will only help her in the moment. I reasoned. Presenting her with the Four Spiritual Laws isn't engaging enough, not to mention that she could probably quote them from memory as a result of a plethora of street evangelists.  Just pray for her, keep walking, and look for discount designer jeans.  To justify my thinking, I made a deal with myself, and/or with God, that if I passed her again I would do something. What kind of something, I didn't know. 

I shopped around for a while, regretfully didn't find any jeans, and began heading back on the other side of the street by which I had come.  And, of course, in God-like fashion this woman had managed to work her way across six lanes of traffic and was now right in my path.  Okay, I have a few dollars. That should suffice. But I knew God wanted me to offer her something more than money; I knew in my gut that this would only be filling the jar halfway.  Shaking off my rising conviction, I placed the money in her hands, breathed the conventional "God bless you," and deeply hoped the money would buy peace for my soul. It was worth a few bills to get the conviction off my back.  

But as I continued on, I felt no relief.  Every step away from her felt like a step toward some sort of magnetic field that repelled me.  I had to go back.  After many years of learning to discern God's voice, I knew that my feelings for her weren't springing from garden-variety legalistic guilt, but the gentle nudge of God's Spirit.  So I chose obedience, if somewhat reluctantly. 

I turned around and headed her way, having no idea what I was going to say.  I just wanted to have some sort of influential exchange.  I wanted to offer her Christ in a way that was more definitive than U.S. currency, and less sterile and offensive than shouting scripture from the sidewalk. As I awkwardly approached her, now for the third time, it came to me out of the blue: I would see if she had eaten dinner.  "Hey again...just wanted to know if you've had anything to eat tonight?"  She politely shrugged with an inquisitive smile, "Not too much."  Ahhh, I was on to something, I thought.  We'll go to dinner and we'll sit and talk, and at least she'll know that someone cares for her.  I will share about life, not too deep of course, find out a bit about her, and maybe be able to present her with a taste of Jesus Christ. Smitten, she will inquire with desperate curiosity,  "Tell me, what must I do to be saved?" 

It was a noble thought, anyhow.  We walked into the Subway sandwich shop (her choice).  She picked out a turkey sandwich and a Pepsi, I grabbed a salad and water, and was up for dessert, but she was uninterested.  The cashier began bagging all of our stuff, to which I intimately remarked, "Oh, I think we'll be eating this here."  I turned back to my new acquaintance, making sure this was okay, to which she replied, "Actually, I'd better get that to go."  That really should have been my initial tip-off that perhaps she wasn't as into spending dinner with me as I was with her, but none of that registered with my zealousness to direct my script of what I thought was supposed to happen.

And so I walked out of Subway, following her in her wheelchair back to her spot on Michigan.  I figured we would just eat together on the street, no big deal.  It never occurred to me that maybe she had asked for her sandwich to go, not because she didn't want to eat in the Subway, but because she didn't want to eat with me.  This reality began seeping into my innocent naivete when, on our way back, she said in a surprisingly savvy, would-you-please-take-a-hint, kind of way, "Weeeeellllll, I'd better take my sandwich and call it a night."  Call it a night!  She was dropping me like a bad date!  And I hadn't even "helped" her yet.  I barely got to talk about life and God and how much He loves her, etc. 

So I handed over her dinner, left her with a few parting words, then strolled through the streets with the biggest bewildered grin on my face.  The kind of look that says, Is it just me, or did I just do something I didn't want to do, because I thought God told me to do the thing I didn't want to do, and then when I did that thing I really didn't want to do, not only did none of the things happen that I hoped would happen, but I got blown off in the process?

 Because these things puzzle me to no end, later that night I sought perspective from one of my favorite people to bounce these kinds of questions off of...my friend Margaret.  "Maggie, did I not hear God correctly?  I pursued her like I was sure God wanted me to, and it didn't seem to end up anywhere.  What was the point?  Why did God put her on my heart so strongly, all for nothing?"  I won't soon forget Mag's response. "Kelly, we all have our own fantasies of how things are supposed to play out when we choose to obey God.  But you responding to God's prompting, you turning back and buying her dinner, you following her back to eat with her...That was the point!  Obedience is an end in itself.  It's our own ignorance to think that being of service will yield a particular outcome. We have to leave the results to God."

She was right: filling to the brim was the point.  Period.  What God wanted to do with and through me was His part of the story.