by Marti Fischer

There’s a reason some songs never fade. They don’t rely on production or cleverness. They carry something true. Something timeless. And if ever there was a song like that, it’s John’s “All Day Song.”

Simple? Yes. But only in the way a sunrise is simple — the kind of beauty you don’t need to analyze to feel its power.

As we head into a long weekend — one filled with fireworks, cookouts, and maybe more noise than peace — this song offers something we deeply need: a rhythm of rest, a reminder of presence, and a daily invitation to trust.

Start in the Morning

“Love Him in the morning when you see the sun a-rising…”

Before the to-do list kicks in, before the headlines and the tension and the pressure — there is a moment. That quiet moment when the light breaks through the dark. That’s where this song begins. And maybe that’s where we need to begin again, too.

Start the day in love, not fear. In gratitude, not grasping. With the God who meets us not with demands, but with mercy that’s new every morning.

Trust Him Through the Day

“Love Him in the evening ‘cause He took you through the day…”

By the time the day winds down, most of us are carrying more than we started with — decisions, worries, unfinished tasks, relational wear. But if we made it to the evening, then God’s promise held.

We didn’t get through the day alone. He took us through it — step by step, breath by breath. And in the stillness of evening, that becomes clear. That’s why we sing it again. Not out of ritual, but out of recognition. He was faithful. He always is.

Hold On in the In-Between

“And in the in-between-time when you feel the pressure coming…”

Ah, the in-between. Not morning. Not evening. Just… pressure. Deadlines. Bills. Decisions. The weight of being human in a world that’s too fast, too loud, too much. This is where most of us live. And it’s exactly where this song meets us with the line we forget too easily:

“Remember that He loves you and He promises to stay.”

God doesn’t just show up for our mountaintops or our breakdowns. He stays for the middle — the waiting, the pressure, the stuck-in-traffic or can’t-feel-hope parts. And that presence? That promise? That’s enough.

He’s Not in a Hurry

“When you think you’ve got to worry / ’Cause it seems the thing to do…”

Isn’t that the truth?

Worry feels like productivity when we’re not sure what else to do. But this lyric flips the script:

“Remember He ain’t in a hurry / He’s always got time for you.”

God doesn’t rush past our fear. He doesn’t need you or me to “get it together” faster. He’s not hurried. He’s not stressed. And He’s not annoyed that you or me still need Him. He’s near. And He has time.

A Song for Such a Time as This

In a season where our days blur together, where headlines are heavy, and our souls are pulled in every direction, this song reminds us what’s constant:

Love in the morning.
Faithfulness through the day.
Presence in the pressure.
Peace in the waiting.

So as we approach this long weekend, may this be your soundtrack. Let it breathe peace into your heart, clarity into your prayers, and grace into your time with the people you love. Because this moment — this day, this pressure, this need for peace — is no accident.

You were made for such a time as this.

And Him?
He promises to stay.

 

Movements That Make It Stick: The “All Day Song” in Motion

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

by John Fischer

One of the sweetest surprises about “All Day Song” is what younger generations have done with it — they didn’t just listen. They moved.

Somewhere along the way, they created a series of hand motions — not choreographed, not rehearsed, just remembered. It became a way to embody the lyrics, to let the message settle in the heart through the body. And honestly? It’s unforgettable.

Here’s how it goes:

“Love Him in the morning…”

Start with one arm flat in front of you, the other resting on top — like you’re cradling the horizon. With your elbow as the hinge, lift your top hand like the sun rising until it’s directly overhead. A new day has begun. Love is rising with it.

“…in the evening…”
Lower that same hand slowly, like the sun setting on a long, grace-filled day. He brought you through. You made it.

“…in the in-between time…”
Snap your hand back up to the “noon” position — now things are getting real. Jerking your “sun” hand side to side represents the chaos of life’s pressure. Appointments, conflict, doubt — the “in-between” feels like being pulled in every direction.

“Remember that He loves you…”
Wrap your arms around yourself. A self-hug. Because even in the pressure, His love holds.

“…and He promises to stay.”
Plant your feet. Breathe. You’re not alone. (No hand signal needed — just stay.)

The Verse — And a Smile

“When you think you’ve got to worry…”
Rub your chin with dramatic concern — it’s the kind of worry that looks important but fixes nothing.

“…’cause it seems the thing to do…”
Hold your arms out, palms up, and shimmy your shoulders — your best Steve Martin impersonation.

“Remember He ain’t in a hurry…”
Walk two fingers slowly — almost lazily — up and down your opposite forearm. God isn’t panicked.

“He’s always got time for you…”
Point to your imaginary wristwatch. Then extend a pointed finger toward someone else — a reminder: He’s not too busy. Not ever. Not for me or you.

And finally — with a little grin:

“Soooo…”
Pretend you’re darning a sock. Stitch … stitch … (“Sew…”)
It’s the kind of clever wordplay you almost miss — until you don’t. And once you see it, you smile every time.

These movements are more than motions. They’re memory. They’re rhythm. They’re truth lived through laughter, connection, and community.

It’s a small thing — and it’s everything.

Because for such a time as this, we need more than information.

We need movement.