In her second independent release and first full-length offering poignantly titled These Cold and Rusted Lungs, Amy Courts delicately illustrates the realities of weariness in the inner person. With her trademark impassioned vocals, captivating melodies, and audacious honesty, she ably takes on love, heartache, personal demons, and the concept of a Holy but still personal God.

Since releasing her debut EP, Amy married her husband and became a step-mother, quit her day job, embarked on a full-time career in music, and became an artist sponsor with the African Aid organization, Mocha Club. "The past two years have been a bit of a whirlwind," Amy notes. "As my life has expanded into marriage, step-motherhood, and lending my voice and passion to the incredible needs in Uganda, I'm constantly aware of the need to deliberately die to myself. Whether by giving my family an hour of time I might rather spend writing or resting, forgiving someone who hasn't asked for it, being deliberate about spiritual quietness, or acting on my human and Christian responsibility to care for the fatherless and the widow simply because I am able, I'm continually challenged and inspired to reach beyond my own issues into a wider sphere and higher calling."

And reach she does. As her life and passions have morphed, they have delivered Amy into a place of greater personal maturity and global understanding, which she explores in depth. Without becoming egocentric or self-indulgent, she dives into common human experiences with profound effect. In the rock ballad, "Hold You Up" Amy expresses that despite hurt and frustration in marriage, committed, unconditional love is the end-all. "When I sat down to write what became 'Hold You Up'," she recalls, "I meant to get something out about how hurt I was by the situation. But what I found instead was a willingness, even a desire to bend and break and do whatever it took to make sure he knew it didn't matter - I was his and he was mine." Paradoxically, "Inevitable" and "I Told You So" relate to the harsher sides of romance, when efforts are exhausted and love isn't quite enough.

The more personal memoirs of "The Liars" and "Drowning" show Amy fighting inner demons that deceive and tempt to shake her from truth in a place where fear and disillusionment invariably accompany spiritual drought. And still, she draws the focus back to the seeker's heart for whom only Christ will suffice in "In You."

Though undeniably heavy and occasionally dark, the record's message - reflected in its title taken from the chorus of "Breathe" - is ultimately one of abandoned hope. For those in the midst of the constant struggle to die to self so love and faith can survive, comfort comes in knowing 'these cold and rusted lungs' weary from waves of lies can always be made to breathe; and a heart made plastic by past rejection and love lost can always be made real.

With a haunting beauty that draws listeners in and anchors them in deeper waters, Amy Courts provides a rich landscape for these heavier conversations. Whether within the smooth, pulsating frame of "In You" and "Breathe," or against the driving rock rhythms of "The Liars" and "Shiver," consistent simplicity and melodic articulation enable the songs to breathe, allowing Amy Courts to engage and warm the spirit with bold honesty in These Cold and Rusted Lungs.