Benjamin William Hastings has opened up about the family nightmare he admits he still has not fully processed-the terrifying accident that nearly claimed the life of his daughter, June.
Marking exactly two years since the ordeal, the Belfast-born worship artist shared an emotional tribute to the little girl he affectionately calls "Junebug." Hastings said he was already crying as he wrote about the accident, confessing that he continues to carry its trauma even while feeling overwhelming gratitude for June's remarkable recovery.
"It's been two years to the day since my little Junebug was in an accident that almost took her from this world onto the next," Hastings wrote on Instagram. He remembered the hospital room as a "fluorescent hell," but one filled with what he called "angel nurses," "magic doctors," praying believers and "the presence of a very wonderful God."
The crisis unfolded shortly after the Hastings family had moved to Nashville. What initially appeared to be a manageable emergency suddenly became critical as June's condition deteriorated. Hastings' song about the ordeal reveals that she had suffered a concussion and that the medical team's tone changed abruptly when her chances began falling.
Meanwhile, his wife, author Jessa Hastings, was reportedly being treated at Vanderbilt for injuries of her own. According to the deeply personal lyrics, police had to retrieve her from the hospital and bring her to June. When she learned how serious their daughter's condition had become, she collapsed under the weight of the news.
Hastings was left beside June as hospital monitors sounded and doctors fought to save her. The singer recalls becoming faint before someone caught him-and then reaching the point where all he could do was plead with God.
He contacted friends and believers who could pray, including musicians appearing at Summer Worship Nights in Seattle. Hastings later described feeling as though the worshippers in that arena were lifting his exhausted arms when he could no longer lift them himself.
Then came the turnaround the family had desperately begged for. June recovered and eventually walked out of the hospital, an outcome Hastings continues to regard as a miracle and an answer to the prayers of thousands of people.
One year after the accident, Hastings sat down and poured the memories into a stream-of-consciousness song titled "Year To The Day." Its painfully direct opening admits what the anniversary still means to him: while June healed physically, her father is still healing emotionally.
The song does not tidy the experience into a painless testimony. Hastings remembers the beeping monitors, the doctors' alarm, his wife's devastation and the desperate promises he made to God from his knees. Its central declaration is equally simple: "Somebody prayed, and somebody listened."
Hastings first shared a demo around the first anniversary of the accident before releasing the finished recording in September 2025. A live version recorded in Seattle later brought the story back to the city where worshippers had prayed for June during the emergency. Listen to "Year To The Day" on YouTube.
Now, two years removed from the night he feared he might lose his daughter, Hastings is not pretending that gratitude has erased the scars. His latest message is both a celebration of June's life and an unusually candid confession from a worship leader who still cries when he returns to that hospital room in his memory.
For Hastings, however, one conviction has survived the trauma: when his family had exhausted every human resource, the Church prayed-and God answered with what he calls a "complete 180."
