CHAPTER 8

Throughout the summer of 1975, Keith turned down any concert offers that came his way. He confined himself to his upright piano at home. This put a bit of a strain on our finances, but Keith was determined not to budge from his decision.

For me, it was really a strange feeling to have something that was such a part of your life be dead. I was surprised to find how much I missed the music—but it was obviously a much greater sacrifice for Keith. However, it did seem like some neat things were going on in Keith’s heart.

One starry night, we took a walk to the neighborhood donut shop. Holding hands on the way, we looked up at the moon and stars and began to wonder about what might happen in the future. Of course, Keith’s music was one of the first things to come up.

“Music is such a part of who you are,” I began. “It’s hard to imagine you without it forever.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” he agreed. “But you know, maybe my music has been a crutch.”

“What do you mean, a crutch?”

“When I was growing up, my talent always opened doors for me. I never really had to work at having ‘social graces’, like other people did. I knew I could win people over if I could just get to a piano. Music has always been my calling card.”

“You sure blew me away when you played for me on our first date,” I said, squeezing his hand.

“That was the whole idea,” Keith said, with a grin. “But now I want to be accepted because I reflect the Lord, not because I blow everyone away with my music.”

We reached the donut shop—and we were in luck. They had some hot ones cooling on racks. We got several in a bag and went outside to sit on the curb. It was such a nice night and, with other people always in the house, we had so little chance to talk alone.

“All the talent in the world won’t buy me a godly character,” Keith was saying, “and that’s what I want more than anything.”

I agreed. That’s what I wanted, too.

After we got back home, Keith went into his music room and closed the door. I could hear him playing a beautiful new melody on the piano. I could tell Keith was playing it just for the Lord and I silently wondered if the Lord and I would be the only ones ever to hear it.

Keith’s twenty-second birthday came and went in October, and we were busier than ever with the new people in our lives. 

Just before we’d become Christians—which was now about six months ago—our good friend Karen Bender had come over with her daughter, Dawn. Karen had met a guy she really liked and he wanted her and Dawn to move to Colorado with him. They’d come to say goodbye, and we’d sat on our front lawn to smoke a “goodbye joint” together.

Now Karen and Dawn were back from Colorado. Karen came back first and moved back to Hollywood, but Dawn stayed in Colorado with her grandparents. When Karen returned without Dawn she rented an apartment in an adults-only building. Since then, however, Dawn had returned so she could be with her mom—which presented two problems. First, no one under eighteen could live in the building and the manager told Karen she was going to have to find another place to live now that Dawn was back. Second, Karen was working a split-shift at the phone company, which meant little Dawn was home alone many evenings.

Keith and I had become Christians while they were gone. Since we wanted to spend some extra time with Dawn now, we decided to take her with us to some evening Bible studies. She really wanted to go.

“When I was living with my grandma and grandpa,” she told us happily, “I went to church with them on Sundays. I told them I wanted to be a Christian, so they phoned the pastor to come over and pray with me. I got baptized, too!”

We took Dawn with us to as many meetings as we could over the next few weeks.

One night I was standing at the sink doing the dishes, and Dawn phoned. Keith spoke with her a few minutes and then came into the kitchen and announced, “Dawn’s moving in with us.”

I stood there silently for a moment, the tap water still running.

“Moving in with us? What do you mean?”

“Dawn called to say goodbye,” Keith explained. “Since Karen can’t keep her in the apartment, she was going to send Dawn to live with some of her relatives.” When he told me which relatives, I winced. Karen had told us about these particular folks. They had a lot of problems—drinking and smoking dope at all hours of the day and night.

“They’re leaving tomorrow morning to move up north into the woods somewhere, and Karen wanted to send Dawn to live with them. Mel, you should have heard Dawnie’s voice. She didn’t want to go. She asked if she could come and live with us instead.”

“And you said . . . ?” I just wanted to confirm what I’d heard.

“I told her she could.”

I was silent again for a moment. I could feel something rising up inside of my chest. On one hand, I really loved Dawn and had a lot of compassion for her situation. On the other hand, Keith didn’t even ask me how I might feel about it. True, it wouldn’t be a good thing for Dawn to go off to the woods and live with people who were struggling with major problems. And Dawn was so young—young in the Lord, too. Still, I wished Keith would have talked to me before telling her she could move in. After all, she was a minor, and the responsibility was pretty big.

But in the same moment, I resolved not to even mention it to Keith. I knew I would have said yes anyway. I really loved Dawn and felt very protective of her. It was obviously the best thing to do. And in those few moments of silence I felt a sense of peace rush into my heart. Maybe that was the Lord’s way of telling me we were making the right decision.

And so Dawn moved in with us just a few weeks after her eleventh birthday. She said happily, “I’ve always wanted to live in a real house, with a backyard, and a dog.” And even though we told her to just keep calling us Keith and Melody, she started calling us Mom and Dad right away.

Mom and Dad . . . Keith and I had talked about having children, but it was a short conversation. Neither of us had any burning desire to be parents just yet. And now, here we were—the parents of a beautiful, bouncing, pre-teen daughter. We knew zero about being parents—especially to an eleven-year-old. But we loved Dawn. She had taken root in our hearts. Dawn moved into Cindy and Kelly’s room, and now there were five of us in the little house on Dolorosa Street.

About the same time Dawn moved in, Keith was asked to perform at a benefit for the Hollywood Free Theater—made up of a group of Christian actors who met to encourage each other in the Lord and to work on their acting skills. In fact, Keith and I had gone to a few classes there. Neither one of us showed any “star” quality, but it was fun and they were a great group.

It had been nearly three months since Keith laid aside his performing. He’d quickly turned down other opportunities, but this time he felt torn. He wasn’t trying to slip out of his commitment, but he did have a desire to help raise money for this group of Christians. Finally, he felt it was okay to at least ask the Lord about it. He prayed a lot, because he didn’t want his own desires to get in the way of hearing God. At last, Keith thought he had some direction.

“I believe God is giving me the ‘go-ahead’ to accept this one invitation,” Keith told me. “He didn’t tell me to pick up my music again—I think maybe he’s letting me do this because it’s for a good cause. It’s a one time thing. After that I’m totally going back to my commitment.”

The benefit was going to be held in the heart of Beverly Hills at a very “in” night spot, called The Daisy. On the night of the benefit, late in September, we jumped into “Victor” and headed up Wilshire Boulevard, past the famous Brown Derby restaurant, then turned onto North Rodeo Drive and into the parking lot of The Daisy.

The place was packed when we arrived, but not with the usual crowd. We immediately saw many familiar faces from the Vineyard—Randy Stonehill, Larry Norman, Jerry Houser, and a Christian recording artist named Jamie Owens. And then there were famous faces we were seeing up-close for the first time—Pat Boone, Dale Evans, and Julie Harris, who’d just starred in the movie The Hiding Place.

The place was alive with energy and excitement. Light glittered off the chandeliers and mirrors, and Christian music was playing in the background. The long, mirrored bar against the far wall held only trays of fruit juice and soft drinks tonight.

Keith and I found a small table for two. He was slotted near the end, just before Pat Boone and Julie Harris. Keith usually had nerves of steel, but I knew he felt a lot of pressure tonight. He wanted his performance to bring glory to the Lord—and only to the Lord.

When Keith’s turn came at last, he walked up into the bright spotlight and sat down at the piano. The room fell into a polite hush. He looked out at the audience as he started playing softly on the piano and talking.

“This song I’m about to sing is my song. This is your song. It’s for everyone who’s ever left the loving arms of their heavenly Father to go out on their own.

“I was a prodigal son,” he explained. “But I’m not running anymore. I came home covered with mud and dirt from the world, and my Father in heaven picked me up, washed me off and sat me on his lap.”

As Keith launched into “The Prodigal Son Suite”, the meandering conversations ceased. I remembered the hours Keith put into polishing the lyrics to “The Prodigal Son” during that stony time almost a year-and-a-half ago. Now, people set down their soft drinks, and turned their attention to the stage. I sensed at once that something was happening up there with Keith. This wasn't just a performance. It was as if, through Keith, God was portraying his heart to us—a father’s heart that longed for his children to come home.

When Keith came to the part where the now-broken prodigal son returns home, there was such a trembling cry in his voice, my throat tightened. At the table next to me, a woman had tears running down her face. . . .

I was near home,

In sight of the house.

My father just stared—

Dropped open his mouth.

He ran up the road

And fell at my feet,

And cried . . . and cried . . .

Father I’ve sinned.

Heaven’s ashamed.

I’m no longer worthy

To bear your name. 

I’ve learned that my home

Is right where you are 

Oh, Father, take me in . . .

People all over this beautiful ballroom were dabbing at their tears. And then, Keith broke into the last movement—the part where the father, with joy, forgives his son and calls for a celebration. . . .

Bring the best robe

Put it on my son!

Shoes for his feet—

Hurry! Put them on!

This is my son

Who I thought had died!

Prepare a feast

For my son’s alive!

My son’s returned,

In the hands of God!

When the song ended Keith threw his head and body forward over the keys to emphasize it was finished. There was a moment of stunned silence—then the whole room exploded in applause and cheers. Many people jumped to their feet in a standing ovation. But Keith got up from the piano at once and quietly made his way back to our table, barely looking up.

Once the program ended, many people came up to Keith to encourage him and tell him how the Lord touched them while he was singing. Keith looked pleased, but he was a bit reserved. Later, on the way home, I found out why.

“I wasn’t sure how to respond when everyone was so excited,” he said, shaking his head.

I was elated. “Keith, you were incredible. I really saw the Lord in you, in a more powerful way tonight.”

“I felt the Lord in a new way, too.” Then he hesitated for a moment. “Mel, I think the Lord gave me back my music while I was playing tonight. I was in the middle of the song and I just felt a peace and an assurance that I was right in the center of God’s will—doing exactly what he created me to do.”

“That’s wonderful!”

“Yeah. It’s hard to believe, but I think God really wants me to play for him and for his glory—and only for his glory.”

When Keith received his music back it was the go-ahead from the Lord that he’d been waiting for—but it was another three months before he really picked it up and started running with it. But when he did, word about his music ministry quickly spread, through our friends in the Christian music world. And by the end of 1975, Keith was getting asked to do concerts in some of the churches in southern California. It was a whole new world to us. Except for the few concerts he’d done with Randy Stonehill, Keith had only played his music in nightclubs, colleges, hippie vegetarian restaurants and recording studios—along with a few television appearances when he was younger. Playing in churches posed some new challenges—and interesting transitions—for us.

Our first big question was, how much money do you ask from a church that invites you to do a concert? In the secular world, everyone always struggles to make more money. Besides the money itself, the amount you receive is a yardstick to measure your worth and popularity. The better you are, the more you get. Even though Keith was never in it “just for the money”, it was his trade and it paid our bills. And we still had bills to pay! Our CBS salary helped, but our growing household had become a hub of activity, and we were often busy with what seemed to be a continual “feeding of the five thousand”.

We were just learning about finances from a Christian point-of-view. Keith had always had the highest integrity when it came to money—but the idea of tithing was new to us. In fact, we got a fiery baptism on tithing when a seven-month delay in our CBS salary eventually came in—with a check for $7,000! After we got over the initial shock of giving away $700 in tithe all at once, we were glad to follow biblical principles about giving. At least they were clear. But what were the biblical principles about charging for concerts? Where were they found in the Bible?

Our inquiries didn’t help much. Other Christian musicians were all over the map when it came to this matter. Some sold tickets, some asked for a certain amount up-front, and others went for love offerings. We heard stories galore. They weren’t all good. We had a few tough experiences of our own.

There was the time Keith was called at the last minute to play at a very large church about an hour-and-a-half away from us. He was told on the phone they would give him $20 to come. Keith balked, because he figured that would just cover his gas for the three-hour round trip. They were such a large church, he felt they could afford to give a little more. But they stood firm, probably thinking the opportunity to play for a few thousand people would help give Keith’s ministry greater exposure. That was true, but Keith still didn’t feel it was the “brotherly” way to do things. Still, he felt the Lord wanted him to go anyway, even though he didn’t think they were being fair. Besides, it was a good opportunity to minister to a lot of people.

By the standards we were used to, we wouldn’t have run an errand that far away for that price—let alone do a full concert. But this was not the show-biz world. This was ministry. Yet, we were confused.

So we set out, feeling our way along in the dark. Now that we were Christians we instinctively knew the money rules had changed in some way—but we really didn’t know how. Keith’s music was no longer a “career”. He considered himself a minister and we wanted to see people come to the Lord. But music was Keith’s trade and we had big household expenses every week. Keith was an accomplished performer, so it seemed like he should ask for more than somebody who’d just taken a few guitar lessons. But as a minister, should Keith even care about how much he made?

It was a question we’d have to wrestle with for some time.

Even with these questions, our excitement about Jesus continued to grow and touch every area of our lives—especially our music. New songs just tumbled out one after another.

Keith was constantly writing—either alone, with me or Todd, or with some other new musical friend. Sometimes a combination of us wrote together, which made it even more fun. Many songs were inspiring calls to worship God in Spirit and truth, some were light-hearted expressions of joythen there were the funny ones.

Keith didn’t believe that being a Christian meant you lost your sense of humor or your ability to have a good time.

One day our friend Wendell Burton came over and he and Keith ended up in the music room. Wendell went to the Vineyard and usually led worship at the house with the monkey. He was also a very talented singer and songwriter, and he and Keith decided to try and write something together. What resulted was a funny song about some heroes of the faith who trusted God even when the odds were against them—”He’ll Take Care of the Rest”:

You just think about Moses

In front of the burnin’ bush,

Barefoot on the holy ground,

You know, he must have been thinkin’,

Hey, what’s an old dude like me

Gonna tell ‘em all when I go down?

(Go down, Moses!)

But the Lord said, “Hey, Mo!

Don’t you worry ‘bout your going down south,

I'll be saying every word that comes out of your mouth!”

You just think about Noah,

Totin’ his umbrella

When there wasn't a cloud in the sky.

All his neighbors would laugh

At his pet giraffe

And they would (ho, ho)

Snicker as he passed by.

But the Lord said,

“Hey, Noah, be cool.

Just keep buildin’ ‘dat boat.

It’s just a matter of time

‘Til they see who’s gonna float!”

“You just keep doin’ your best

And pray that it’s blessed.

Hey, Noah, I'll take care of the rest—

I’m the Weather Man!”

Then there were a few songs that Keith wrote right away to express his own pure joy at finally finding the truth that set him free. Now, Keith was shining a light that drew people to him. He wrote this song to the Lord to tell him that, whenever anyone asked why he looked so happy, he had the honor of pointing the way to the Source of that light and simply say it’s “Because of You!”

It’s because of You

People smile at me

And they say, “What a lucky guy!”

Because of You

I can raise my hands to the sky

And say, “I’m only happy

Because of You!”

Another song Keith wrote during this time talked about the supernatural touch from God he felt in his heart. Keith said, “It’s like chocolate ice cream. How do you describe the taste to someone who’s never tasted chocolate?” “You Put This Love In My Heart”expressed Keith’s gratitude for that miraculous touch.

Is all this real or a dream?

I feel so good I could scream!

You put this love in my heart.

Well, I know the loneliness I had before

Is gone now, I'll never feel it anymore.

‘Cause Your lovin’ has released me

From all that’s in my past,

And I know I can believe You

When you say I’ll never be forsaken

Your love is gonna last!

One day, Keith walked into the music room while I was working on a new song. He listened as I played what I had of it on the piano—and sang the few sketchy words. . . . 

When I hear the music start, I wanna sing it for You 

Music that will fill Your heart, I wanna bring it to You

“Pretty good, so far, Mel.”

I showed him the rough chords I was playing and he started fiddling with it. A few days later, Keith sat down to write but nothing was coming. He was walking around the house pretty frustrated about it. After he went back into the music room, I had an impression—words seemed to form in my mind. Was the Lord trying to say something to Keith—through me? I wrote down the words and took the piece of paper to Keith. He opened the note and read, “Rest quietly before me, and I will give you a song.”

Pretty soon I heard music. Keith was singing a song, with the same chorus melody I’d written—but it had a whole different theme. Keith walked out and said, “The Lord just gave me a love song—from him to me.”

My son, My son,

Why are you striving?

You can’t add one thing

To what’s been done for you.

I did it all while I was dying.

Rest in your faith

My peace will come to you.

When I hear the praises start,

I wanna rain upon you

Blessings that will fill your heart.

I see no stain upon you

Because you are My child

And you know Me.

To Me you’re only holy,

Nothing that you’ve done remains,

Only what you do for Me.

My child, My child

Why are you weeping?

You will not have to wait forever. 

That day and that hour is in My keeping—

The day I’ll bring you’ into heaven. . . .

Another song we wrote together was inspired by something we read in the newspaper. It was the story of a priest who was trying to cast demons out of a woman who was possessed. The priest said that one time the demons started laughing and talking to him through this lady. He claimed that they were boasting, saying, “We have all the power because nobody believes in us any more!”

As soon as Keith and I had become Christians, we knew there was a real God—and a real devil. It certainly explained the dark force that took control of Harmony outside The Bla Bla that hot night a few years ago. So many people in southern California—and across America—were dipping into the occult without realizing the demonic powers behind it. We now knew that Satan was a for-real, hardball-playing bad guy, who was determined to capture and destroy every unsuspecting soul he could.

I drove to the market after reading about the priest, and his words kept coming back to me. I found myself scratching lyrics on a scrap of paper with one hand, while driving with the other. After I got home I put a fresh copy of the words, all sung from Satan’s point-of-view, on Keith’s piano. He added a few more words and some music and the result was called “Satan’s Boast:”

Oh, my job keeps gettin’ easier

As time keeps slippin’ away.

I can imitate the brightest light

And make your night look just like day.

I put some truth in every lie

To tickle itchin’ ears.

I’m drawin’ people just like flies

‘Cause they like what they hear.

I’m gainin’ power by the hour,

They’re fallin’ by the score.

You know, it’s gettin’ very simple now

Since no one believes in me any more.

Oh heaven’s just a state of mind

My books read on your shelf.

Oh, have you heard that God is dead?

I made that one up myself!

They’re dabblin’ in magic spells,

They get their fortunes read,

They heard the truth but turned away

And followed me instead . . . 

Everyone likes a winner.

With my help you’re guaranteed to win.

Hey, man, you ain’t no sinner, no!

You’ve got the truth within.

And as your life slips by you believe the lie

That you did it on your own.

But I’ll be there to help you share

Our dark eternal home—

Our dark eternal home.

Another influence was the Christian literature we were discovering. Keith was constantly reading and one of his favorites was a classic allegory called, “Hind’s Feet On High Places”, by Hannah Hurnard. Keith was thinking about the trials and testings the Lord had brought him through when he wrote the song, “Trials Turned To Gold”.

He’s brought me low

So I could know

The way to reach the heights.

To forsake my dreams

My self-esteem

And give up all my rights.

With each one that I lay down,

A jewel’s placed in my crown.

Because His love

The things above—Is all we’ll ever need.

He’s brought me here

Where things are clear,

And trials turn to gold.

He also wrote this journal entry:

Where Things Are Clear

We are nothing but dust. Our lives are not ours. Our bodies are not ours. Our future is in Your hands. The Lord is making me ready to die—completely—I don’t deserve to live—so come Spirit of the holy God—live instead of me. There is no joy left in life but to realize I am nothing and let God be what He is all.

Tears cannot express nor laughter His grace/gifts. I am His. Please Keith! Don’t ever go back—look up.

Probably the greatest boost to our growth as songwriters was meeting other Christian musicians. Keith’s first Christian recording session was playing piano on the Growing Pains album by Jamie Owens. Then through Jamie, Keith met a guy named Terry Talbot. Keith and Terry hit it off immediately.

Terry and his brother, John, had been in a famous rock band called Mason Profit. Terry was working on a musical called “Firewind”, and he asked Keith to sing one of the lead vocals on a song called,”Walk and Talk”. Interestingly, it was going to be a duet with Barry McGuire. Keith couldn’t believe it, since Barry had made such an impression on us a few years ago in Turlock and now Keith was going to sing his first recorded Christian song with him! It seemed like so many little threads were starting to weave together.

Keith was really excited about this recording session because he was going to get to meet so many other Christian artists. From the story I heard later, Keith must have made quite a first impression himself.

Before Annie Herring from The Second Chapter of Acts even came to the session, Jamie Owens had told her, “Wait until you meet Keith Green. He’s so filled with energy and his heart is just full of the Lord. You’re going to love him!”

When Annie walked into the studio, Keith was working on his solo with the recording engineer. She suppressed a laugh, because Keith was trying to sing his lines with energy and feeling—and at the same time trying to explain to the engineer where to punch between words. The engineer finally got it, and did it just as Keith said. Annie thought, Boy, he sure knows how to take charge!

A little while later Billy Ray Hearn of Sparrow Records showed up, because “Firewind” was going to be released on his label. Keith did what he always did when he met the president of a record company. He dragged Billy Ray over to the piano and said, “Listen to this!” Then he proceeded to play a few songs. That wasn’t all. Keith told him, “You gotta come to one of my concerts! There’s a whole different spirit during a concert!” Billy Ray told Keith he’d try to come to a concert—sometime.

Besides getting to know Terry and Barry much better that day, Keith met Annie and the rest of Second Chapter—Annie’s brother and sister, Matt and Nelly Ward—and Nelly’s boyfriend Steve Greisen. They all had a great time getting to know each other and joking around. In fact, Annie made a lasting impression on Keith.

They’d been joking around and Annie, who was used to holding her own in a large family full of brothers, gave him what she considered to be “just a loving punch”. When Keith came home he said, “Annie slugged me in the arm—hard!”

A week later, Keith met Annie’s husband, Buck Herring, who was the producer for Second Chapter. Buck and Annie had only been married for a few years when her dad died. At that point Annie’s youngest brother and sister, who’d been living with their dad, came to live with her and Buck. A short time later, Nelly, Matt and Annie discovered they could sing together.

The first time I met Second Chapter, I was so new to Christian music that I’d never even heard of them—even though they were nationally famous. Keith took me to their house in Northridge, and when we walked in Buck was listening to one of their albums. I was blown away. I walked into the kitchen and Annie was standing at the sink with an apron on, doing dishes. I didn’t know what to say, so I said the first thing that came to my mind.

“I just heard your album. I’ve never heard you before. It’s incredible. You . . . you sound like angels!”

“Oh, thank you!” Annie said with great delight.

Immediately, I felt really stupid. How embarrassing to tell a famous singer that you’ve never even heard them! I wanted to fall through the floor. I was really in awe of this beautiful woman with the elegant, high cheekbones and dark, dancing eyes—this woman of God, who sang like an angel and did dishes like a normal person! And I was standing in her kitchen. I wasn’t sure how to act.

But Annie was so kind and warm—and seemed genuinely encouraged by my remarks. I guessed she was used to people getting a bit flustered around her. She made me feel welcome at once.

Meanwhile, Keith and Buck were off in the corner talking about music, producing and making albums. Keith had so many questions, especially about who he was supposed to sing to. I could hear them talking in the background as I helped Annie wipe the counter.

“I really believe I’m supposed to make an album.” Keith was picking Buck’s brain. “But I’m not sure if it’s supposed to be a Christian album or not. What do you think?”

“What else would you do?” Buck said.

“Well, I want to lift up the name of the Lord. But it seems like Christians have plenty of music already. Anyway, why sing about Jesus to Christians? They already know him.”

“Evangelism is important, Keith. But it’s not the only reason God gave us music,” Buck responded.

“I know, but it’s the thing that’s most important to me. I really want to do an album with a Christian message—for people who don’t know the Lord yet.”

“We tried it, brother. Our first contract was with MGM, and the secular machinery didn’t know what to do with an album full of Christian songs.”

“Maybe so, but at least the album will have a better chance of making it. I can always tell when I hit the Christian radio station—even before I hear the words. It just really bothers me that Christian records have such low budgets you can’t get good sounds.”

“It won’t matter how good your album sounds,” Buck shrugged, “a secular label still won’t know what to do with it.”

“I’m not into singing just for Christians. I really want my music to bring people to the Lord.”

“Then I’m sure the Lord will show you what he wants you to do,” Buck said simply.

Later that evening, as we drove home, Keith was deep in thought. I could tell his conversation with Buck didn’t convince him. Keith wanted to reach people outside the church. But I knew he wouldn’t rest until the question was settled.

Our musical family kept growing, as we met people like Chuck Girard, Phil Keaggy, Mike and Kathy Deasy, Kelly Willard, Karen Lafferty, and Andrae Crouch. We also listened to tons of tapes by people like Bob Ayala, a group called Mustard Seed Faith, and a girl with the name of Honeytree. We were totally impressed that they’d given their talent to sing only for the Lord—and yet we were still torn over what path Keith’s musical ministry might take.

It was during this time, too, that one friendship where there had been long-standing tension was finally resolved.

Keith bumped into Randy Stonehill unexpectedly one day at the Vineyard offices. They were both glad to see each other, and Keith invited him over to our house. Because of some heated conversations before we were Christians, the friendship had been strained. They were still friends, and Keith even played at Randy’s wedding—but things hadn’t been quite right.

When Randy arrived with his guitar case, they headed straight into the music room. I was in the kitchen with Cindy, Kelly, and Dawn, and I could hear them laughing, talking, and playing music. Then it got very quiet for a long time. Later that night, Keith told me what happened.

“Things between me and Randy finally got worked out. I told him how upset I’ve been, thinking that I would have become a Christian a lot sooner if he would have really shared more about Jesus with me.”

“What did Randy say?”

“He said he did try to tell me, but because he wasn’t living out his faith consistently, he knew his words probably didn’t have a lot of power. He said he knew actions speak louder than words sometimes. Randy said he was sorry.”

“That was pretty neat of him to be so open with you. What did you say?”

Keith smiled. “My heart just melted, and I saw some of my mistakes. I know sometimes it was hard for him to have a two-way conversation with me. I’m not always the best listener. I forgave him, and I asked him to forgive me, too.”

“Well, it was Randy who invited us to the Vineyard.”

“Yeah. We were both teary-eyed. Then we got really excited. I ended up pulling out the melody Todd and I wrote a few days ago, and we worked on the words together. It’s called ‘Your Love Broke Through.’ It’s really hot!”

Later, Keith wrote:

March 21, 1976

Randy played me some new songs and then we started talking and one thing led to another and it finally ended up in a big confession. . . . IT WAS A MIRACLE and an answer to prayer.

It really seemed like the Lord was starting to tie some loose ends together. We were hoping the next thing God would tie together would be Keith’s music. It always amazed me that some major record company didn’t snatch Keith up after one listen. I’d often seen him play his heart out for some executive, giving a performance that would take their breath away, but nothing ever came of it.

Now I wondered: Was something blocking the way before? Had the Lord been waiting for Keith to become a Christian before letting his career take off? What if, now that we were Christians, God would blow open doors, unplug ears, and help Keith find a record company that believed in him?

The dream of “making it” musically was not dead—it just had a slightly different slant to it now. Keith continued to make demos of his songs, and run them all over town still trying to get a record deal with a secular label.

And then, it seemed like our dream was going to take off.

One afternoon, about two months after meeting Buck, Keith went into Hollywood to meet with the people at Arista Records. Arista was a well-respected secular label that was turning out hit records with top-name artists. He played them some of his songs and they got very excited.

When Keith got home he bounced through the door.

“Melody! Guess what?”

When I hurried into the living room, Keith was smiling from ear to ear.

“Mel, Arista wants to send me to New York next week!”

“New York! You’re kidding!”

“They want me to meet with Clive Davis—straight to the top! They’re paying my way out and everything. This might be it. Maybe God is going to open some doors after all!”

The following week I drove Keith to LAX and gave him a kiss goodbye, wishing I could go with him. Keith was so charged up I knew he was going to blow Clive Davis out of the water when he sang for him. I wished I could be there to see his face. It seemed like that long-awaited record contract was finally at Keith’s finger tips.

Once Keith arrived in New York he settled into his hotel room anticipating his big meeting with Arista the next day. Keith later wrote:

April 9, 1976

Clive Davis . . . kept me waiting for almost two hours. It was a failure, but I took it so well I couldn’t believe it . . . kept telling myself that the Lord wanted me to do a Christian album. It depressed me, but I kept my chin up.

The following afternoon, my phone rang. Keith was calling from New York.

“How’d it go?” I asked eagerly.

“Well—I think God wants me to do a Christian album.”

“You’re kidding?”

“No. My interview was a flop. I was really upset at first, but I’m kinda starting to feel relieved now. At least I finally have a clear answer from the Lord. Hey, do you want me to bring a New York pizza home for you?”

“That would be great!”

The dream was dead—the one that had been in Keith’s heart since he was a child. Some dreams are so deep they seem to become a part of the very fabric of your being. When they die, a part of you dies too. This should have been the biggest disappointment in Keith’s life. But it wasn’t. I saw the grace of God in Keith in such a strong way. After the initial depression lifted, Keith was actually excited. His prayers had been answered at last.

Now Keith knew why things had never really come together with his secular music. He saw even more clearly how his life-plans needed to be anchored in the reality of God’s will—otherwise they would never be anything but fantasy. And the song Keith had written just a few months earlier with Randy and Todd had an even deeper meaning:

Like a foolish dreamer

Trying to build a highway

To the sky,

All my hopes would come tumblin’ down

And I never knew just why.

Until today,

When You pulled away the clouds

That hung like curtains on my eyes.

I’ve been blind all these wasted years,

When I thought I was so wise.

But then You took me by surprise . . .

All my life I’ve been searching

For that crazy missing part,

And with one touch

You just rolled away

The stone that held my heart.

And now I see that the answer

Was as easy as just asking You in,

And I am so sure

I could never doubt

Your gentle touch again.

It’s like the power of the wind!

Like waking up from the longest dream

How real it seemed!

Until Your love broke through.

I’ve been lost in a fantasy

That blinded me,

Until Your love broke through!

Keith was sure at last that the Lord wanted him to sing his music to Christians—probably even make a Christian album.

Mostly, he was wondering what God might want him to say to all these Christians. We’d seen some glaring inconsistencies. A lot of people were going to church and to Christian concerts—but not many of them seemed really excited about Jesus. Keith wondered how God felt about that.

And his heart was heavy whenever he thought about it.