Nashville’s Best Kept Secret
On a dark Monday in October, I found myself tucked into a suburban coffeehouse, the kind of place where you expect laptops and lattes, not an event being broadcast across the entire country. Yet here we were in Brentwood, Tennessee, at The Well Coffeehouse, sitting shoulder to shoulder in a room full of believers and music fans, waiting for host to step up to the mic and the music to start. One of Nashville’s best-kept secrets, though maybe worst-kept since it nearly always sells out, was about to begin: Jason Gray’s Acoustic Story Time.
The first thing that struck me was how old school the whole thing felt. No stage separating artist from audience. No big production. Just three stools, three guitars, and three voices. Jason Gray led the night as a lighthearted, easygoing, and disarmingly host. When I asked him how this monthly tradition even began, he answers with characteristic humility: “I kind of just fell into it. I hosted a writer’s round for a GMA week event several years ago, and someone thought I was good at it. The people around me encouraged to wonder if it might be an interesting extension of my music career/ministry. Five years later, we’re still going and it’s been wonderful!”
That sums it up perfectly. Jason sets the table and then quietly invites everyone—artists and audience alike—to share. This time around, his guests were Ryan Stevenson and Matt Hammitt. Ryan, a longtime Gotee Records artist, took us deep into his journey. He played “Oklahoma,” a lament about following God into places where no one shows up, no one seems to care, and failure hangs heavy in the air. He admitted that those valleys shaped him into the artist standing before us now. There was a rawness in his voice that only comes from someone who’s lived what he’s singing.
Then there was Matt Hammitt. He sang Days God Gave, a song we’ve been championing here at CCM Magazine, and the crowd hung on every word. It’s a song about gratitude and waking up to the ordinary blessings God places in front of us. Afterward, Matt told me, “It was special to be with old friends—seasoned artists I’ve known since the beginning of their careers. We’ve all seen each other walk through a lot of real life. That’s the kind of connection you can’t manufacture, that only comes with age. It’s like, ‘If they only knew the roads we’ve been down, but we’ll do our best to share it through song.’”
That’s the thing about Acoustic Story Time; it’s not about perfection. The intimacy in the room changes everything. Jason told me, “The up-close-and-personal feel of it helps us get to something more human. There are no lights, very little production—there’s really no place to hide haha! But because there are three of us on stage and the format is so conversational, it naturally draws listeners into that camaraderie.” He admitted he actually studied Jimmy Fallon before launching the series, hoping to create that same sense of enthusiasm that makes the audience feel like they’re part of the conversation.
What makes all of this even more extraordinary is that the world gets to listen in. These nights are recorded and broadcast exclusively on SiriusXM The Message. I asked Jason what that meant to him: “My hope with Acoustic Story Time is that, in addition to being entertaining and encouraging, it might invite people into new ways of listening—an ethic of attention that helps them receive all that’s being offered. The best songs give meaning. They’re artifacts of what God has done in someone’s life. They’re human. They’re holy. And if we learn to pay attention to that, we will be richly rewarded.”
And people are catching on. On this particular October night, I met out-of-towners who’d flown in just to be here. They knew that tickets vanish almost as soon as they’re announced. They knew that some months you might walk into this little coffeehouse and find Amy Grant on the stool beside Jason, or newer favorites like Katy Nichole. In past rounds, the room has been graced by Matthew West, Josh Wilson, Brandon Heath, Matt Maher, Mike Weaver of Big Daddy Weave and countless Christian music favorites. Each evening different, each evening surprising, each night reminding me why Nashville remains the heartbeat of Christian music.
As the night wound down, I sipped what was left of my coffee and looked around the room. No stage. No spotlight. Just stories, laughter, and songs spilling out into a space that felt more like a living room than a venue. Jason told me CCM is a genre defined not by sound but by story. Tonight, I believed him.
So, here’s the warning: if you ever hear about Acoustic Storytime, don’t wait. Follow @acousticstorytime on Instagram, set a reminder, grab your ticket, and show up. Because one of Christian music’s worst-kept secrets is unfolding—and it’s too good to stay hidden much longer.
