They sit together in their living room — Colt strumming his guitar, Aubree smiling behind the camera, and their kids tapping on drums and bass and just being their joyful selves. There is no studio, no audience, just a family finding light in the dark by making music together.

Their cover of ‘Can’t Buy Me Love’ isn’t just a song. It’s a little burst of sunshine in the middle of a hard season. You can almost hear the hope crackling beneath the strings — the kind of hope that’s stubborn, like faith held tight in trembling hands. If you’ve ever needed a little pick-me-up, this performance is like a warm hug for the soul. From the very first strum of the guitar to the last cheerful chorus, you can feel the joy bubbling up—pure, unfiltered, and infectious. It’s a reminder that sometimes, the best medicine for a weary heart is a simple song sung together with those you love.

This family doesn’t have it all figured out. Their voices aren’t perfect — and that’s the point. It’s the messy, beautiful, real-ness of love that can’t be bought or earned. It’s the laughter between the verses and the smiles exchanged when someone hits the wrong note, but they keep singing anyway.

Back when the world shut down and the days stretched long and lonely, they found a way to remind us all that joy still lives in the small things—in the family gathered ‘round a song, in the stories shared, and in the music made by hearts that refuse to give up.

So when you watch their cover or any of their music for that matter, you don’t just hear the music, you feel the moments, the magic, their family bond, and just how much fun they have together. As a family, you can see how they choose hope, love, and fun even when the world feels heavy.

Because that’s the kind of love money can’t buy. But it’s the kind that saves us, time and again.

“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” 1 Corinthians 13:13