Back in 2020, Lauren Daigle was searching for an escape.
The then-28-year-old singer-songwriter—celebrated for her vibrant style and even brighter spirit—found herself grappling with a world turned upside down. Amidst division, protests and a global pandemic, Daigle’s typically optimistic outlook was tested.
So, she turned to what she knew best: writing music.
“During COVID, there was so much despair,” Daigle recalls. “I started writing these songs because I needed them to pull me out of that. I needed God to come and breathe on this experience for me, to remind me of how life can begin again.”
Over the next six months, Daigle channeled her doubts, fears and frustrations into her fourth studio album, Lauren Daigle, released in September 2023.
“This album is self-titled because it was definitely a new beginning for me internally,” she explains. “It was a step for me to say, ‘Okay God, I see places in my life that I have let go of and now I get to start over and regain the things that I thought I lost.’”
Unlike her previous albums—2015’s How Can It Be and 2018’s Look Up Child—this project stands out as her most vulnerable work yet.
“If I’m honest, this record is in a world of its own as far as how it relates to me,” Daigle shares. “It reflects a new beginning of something transformative that took place in my life. God came in and whispered to me that I have this purpose and a reason for what I do and I don’t have to lose myself along the way.”
Part of this transformation involved revisiting her roots. Daigle describes her first album as learning how to make music, her second as exploring her voice and her third as discovering the sound she’d been seeking her entire life.
“This record felt very natural, very organic,” she says. “I was surrounded by people who were in world-class positions of their own. They didn’t need me to be somebody; they already had their thing going and then we got to partner together. That was really new and really fresh.”
Collaborators included producer Mike Elizondo, known for his work with artists like Fiona Apple, Carrie Underwood and 50 Cent, and Nashville-based songwriter Shane McAnally, who has worked alongside Kacey Musgraves and Kelly Clarkson.
“Looking back, I can see how God orchestrated the right people at the right time,” Daigle reflects. “I felt completely powerless and voiceless because of the state of the world and personal challenges. But He surrounded me with people who were confident, who used their voices for the right things, who knew who they were and weren’t intimidated by the world. That wasn’t coincidental.”
A New Vulnerability
Starting a new chapter can be daunting for any creative individual.
“I feel like that was something that was really hard in the beginning,” Daigle admits. “How do I overcome the fear of a bad idea?”
Early in her career, she had to push past fear and insecurities to express herself authentically. That meant facing critiques and differing opinions, but she learned to focus on what genuinely excited her. Instead of letting fear silence her, Daigle chose to let her authenticity speak loudly.
“Truthfully, I feel like authenticity is simply a by-product of who I am,” she says with a laugh. “I always catch myself over-sharing in moments. But I love things that are authentic and I’m definitely at a place where I want to sing about those authentic moments in my life.”
This doesn’t imply her previous albums lacked authenticity. However, with her new album, she aimed to be more vulnerable than ever before.
“I feel like I talk about things that I haven’t talked about before lyrically,” she explains.
The album delves into themes previously unexplored in her music. “Don’t Believe Them” addresses the struggle of discerning truth, while “Ego” offers insight into her battles with pride. The lead single, “Thank God I Do,” was penned shortly after she recovered from a challenging COVID-19 diagnosis.
These aren’t the typical themes fans might expect—but that doesn’t mean the album is devoid of hope. It remains unmistakably Lauren Daigle. While she confronts the messy and disruptive aspects of life, her music continues to radiate much-needed optimism.
“The darkness does not overtake the light,” Daigle emphasizes. “I mean, look at Revelation. In the end, Jesus comes back and wipes every tear. That’s a celebration after a time of despair. And that’s what we did with this record.”
She outlines the album’s narrative arc, beginning with “Thank God I Do,” which acknowledges despair while hinting at hope.
“So we acknowledge the despair there and then end at ‘These Are The Days.’ That song sheds light on how we might be in intense times or we might be in moments where people are like, how much darker is the world actually about to get? What is going on? This is all crazy. But that song is to remind people that, no, there are so many good things on the horizon. There are still good things ahead.”
Daigle hopes that by the time listeners reach the end of the record, they feel more alive than when they began. It’s the same journey she experienced while creating the album.
From starting with a cry of desperation to releasing an album that reminds others good things are already here on earth, Daigle fully believes this is a message humanity needs to hear repeatedly.
Old, Familiar Faces
Despite the changes in the years since her last album, one thing remains constant for Daigle: her commitment to ensuring people feel loved.
“No matter how big things get, I want people to know they’re loved—by me and by God,” she affirms.
At the time of the album’s release, Daigle was eager to return to touring and connect with people face-to-face. Her enthusiasm is palpable when discussing meeting fans.
“We’re all looking for connections to people,” she says. “And what we’re really looking for boils down to this: Can I relate to you and can you relate to me? Or in an even simpler form than that, we’re asking, Can I love you and are you capable of loving me? So how do we get to the simplest expression of that?
“Well, I think the simplest versions of connection are the purest versions of connection, when we can just look into someone’s eyes and say thank you!” she continues. “When we can look into someone’s eyes and say, ‘I see you.’ That does something so beautiful—not just for me, not just for the person next to me but for humanity as a whole. Those are the experiences I long to bring into the world.”
This mindset has influenced all of Daigle’s decisions regarding her tours. She aims to bring fans together, not just with her but with one another, creating spaces and experiences for deep and impactful connections—a way for people to show up and feel radically loved, sometimes for the first time in a long time.
Daigle knows how life-changing that kind of love can be.
“I remember when I was a teenager, hearing stories about people who were really lonely, and committing suicide wasn’t a thing in my teens as much as it is now,” she said. “Obviously it happened but it was either kept under wraps or few and far between. And I remember thinking that I can’t imagine what it would be like to be in this world that is so full of beauty and kindness and be so lonely.”
She didn’t fully understand that kind of loneliness—until she lived through it. During the pandemic, Daigle found herself in near isolation, watching the world move “900 miles an hour” from the outside looking in.
“I now know how loneliness can feel and knowing there are people who do not have a single friend, not one friend in the world, actually aches me to my core,” she said. “And so, I never know in those interactions with people at shows or even at the grocery store, you just never know what kindness can do for just one person.”
On a flight not long after the world reopened, Daigle experienced that kindness for herself. It came during a panic attack—her first. As the tears started falling, she went to leave the plane before the doors closed. But the woman next to her stopped her.
“She just grabbed my arm and said, ‘Hey, I’ll do this with you,’” Daigle recalled. “‘Everyone will get to the other side, I promise. You just sit next to me. I’ll get you to the other side of this flight. Just trust me.’”
It was such a small gesture, but for Daigle, it felt monumental.
“For the past two years, we’ve been berated with information not to trust a single person around us because of how intense things were—politically, emotionally, everything. But I was sitting next to a stranger who said, ‘Trust me.’ And I did. And she got me through to the other side.”
That moment captured everything Daigle wants to bring into the world—community, compassion and the simple power of unearned kindness.
“People need to know at this time that people are still good,” she said. “There are still people that are kind in the world, that are trustworthy. You can lean on your neighbor, you can lean on people around you.”
The chaos of the last few years—the division, the distrust, the despair—shook Daigle. But it also clarified her mission.
“The animosity that erupted in the country shook me to my core,” she said. “I was terrified of every person, not because of their belief system but because I didn’t know how reactionary people were going to be to me. Did I say something that was going to cause a visceral response?”
That uncertainty, she said, was paralyzing. “And you see how much I long for human connection. So that was a really tricky position for me to be in. All that to say, I feel like the message people need to hear is that people are still good. And they need to see and feel love.”
Now, Daigle is doing her best to be a living embodiment of that truth—onstage and off.
“You know, I’ve seen the shirts that say, ‘BE KIND!’” she laughed. “And sometimes when a message is thrown in your face so much, it gets watered down. But kindness is one of those things that—no matter how many T-shirts are printed—never loses its impact when it becomes real action.”
As she says it, her voice slows just slightly, thick with emotion.
“Whenever I go to my shows, it’s like, this is the one chance that somebody might have to feel love,” she said. “They might not have had a hug in a year. Who knows the last time someone looked them in the eyes? You just don’t know what people’s stories are.
“So I don’t care how big I get—I don’t even have a desire to be famous because it makes me really uncomfortable—but I deeply long for people to feel loved and I don’t ever want that to change.”
