Now Reading
Worship Leader Amanda Cook on Faith, Mental Health and the Art of Asking Better Questions

Worship Leader Amanda Cook on Faith, Mental Health and the Art of Asking Better Questions

Amanda Cook is searching for something. Not answers, necessarily—at least not the kind that come tied with a neat theological bow. What she’s after is the process itself, the slow excavation of meaning, the permission to question, to doubt, and to rebuild. With Survey Part II, the latest installment in her ongoing exploration of faith and creativity, Cook invites listeners into the tension of discovery—a space where belief is not a fixed destination, but an ever-unfolding conversation.

Deconstruction, Reconstruction, and the Space Between

For many, the language of deconstruction has become shorthand for faith unraveling. But Cook resists easy categorization. She doesn’t reject the term outright, but she’s also cautious about its limitations. To her, deconstruction isn’t an endpoint—it’s a necessary part of human growth, a practice as old as faith itself.

“I think deconstruction is a necessary part of human development,” she says. “We need to find our own mind about things.”

She pushes back against the idea that deconstruction is simply about dismantling faith. Instead, she views it as a cycle—one of undoing and rebuilding, questioning and reshaping. “It’s not just about tearing down beliefs,” she explains. “It’s about making space for something deeper, something truer. And that takes time.”

For Cook, this isn’t some new existential crisis—it’s how she’s always been wired. She describes growing up with an innate sense of curiosity, a love of learning that was never threatened by big questions. But she also acknowledges the tension that exists in spaces where certainty is prized over inquiry.

“There’s this push, especially in certain church circles, to make these big proclamations of faith,” she says. “I remember being at youth conferences in the ‘90s, and they’d ask, ‘Are you ready to die for your faith?’ And I’d be sitting there, fifteen years old, thinking, ‘I just want to learn how to drive.’”

She laughs, but there’s weight to what she’s saying. At its core, Survey is about reclaiming the right to ask questions without fear. It’s about learning to live in the tension between knowing and not knowing, between tradition and reinvention.

“If something is really true, it doesn’t need to be defended,” she says. “It just is.”

That perspective, however, is not always easy to embrace. Many who question their faith face resistance—not just from institutions, but from themselves. There’s a fear that if you let go of one belief, the entire structure might collapse. Cook understands that tension deeply.

“I think part of why people struggle with deconstruction is because they assume it means losing everything,” she says. “But I don’t see it that way. I see it as pruning. You don’t destroy a tree when you cut back the branches—you help it grow.”

She sees faith as something organic, something that evolves as people do. And just as seasons change, so too does the way faith expresses itself. “I’ve come to accept that I will always be learning. That’s the point. The moment I think I’ve arrived, I’ve probably lost something essential.”

Worship as World-Building

Cook has always approached music as a form of world-building. Her earlier albums—Brave New World, House on a Hill, and State of the Union—were conceived as a kind of conceptual trilogy, each record offering a different perspective on the inner and outer landscapes of faith.

With Survey, she’s expanding that framework. “Artists build little worlds to put people into,” she muses. “And I think my responsibility is to process what I’m taking in, what I’m learning, what I’m seeing, what I’m feeling—and then translate that.”

The word survey is intentional. It nods to the hymn When I Survey the Wondrous Cross, borrowing its language to frame Cook’s approach: not one of certainty, but of observation. She describes it as “a pathway and an approach to something,” a commitment to seeing faith not as a fortress to be defended, but as an expanse to be explored.

That posture—open, searching, collaborative—is deeply embedded in Survey Part II, which was recorded live in a church setting. Cook describes the experience as deeply humanizing, the kind of worship that feels less like performance and more like collective contemplation. Inspired by a Taizé service she attended in 2020—an experience she describes as “heaven”—she wanted to create a space where no one was trying to sell or convince. A space where the sacred felt accessible, even ordinary.

“What struck me was that the cross was on the floor,” she recalls. “It wasn’t elevated. It was at human level. And that changed something in me.”

The Art of Asking

Cook is done making statements. She’s more interested in making space. Survey is not about conclusions—it’s about possibilities. It’s an invitation to wonder, to look closer, to reconsider.

When asked what she hopes people take away from Survey Part II, her answer is simple: “Whatever they need.”

“Art, if it’s true art, reflects back to us what we think about it,” she says. “I’m not here to convince anyone of anything anymore.”

She gestures toward the larger world of music, of books, of ideas. She knows Survey won’t be for everyone, and she’s fine with that. “If it’s not me, find someone else. There’s so much good art out there. Find what serves your life.”

For Cook, Survey isn’t a brand. It’s not a product. It’s an ongoing study, a practice of attention, a lifelong exercise in staying open. The project will continue to evolve, shifting and growing as she does. She doesn’t know how many parts there will be, or where the journey will lead. But that, she insists, is the whole point.

She leans back for a moment, thoughtful. “We’re going to survey a lot of things,” she says. “Faith, creativity, grief, beauty. The way Jesus moves in the world. How people find meaning. How I find meaning. I want to take my time with it.”

And in that process, she hopes others feel the freedom to do the same—to embrace the tension, to sit with the questions, to trust that faith isn’t about having all the answers, but about being willing to explore. “I think that’s what faith is anyway—a long, unfolding process,” she says. “And I’m okay with that.”

© 2026 RELEVANT Media Group, Inc. All Rights Reserved.

Scroll To Top