Once upon a time a young girl fell in love with music. She played the trumpet, picked up a guitar along the way, wrote songs and went to a university on a music scholarship. She self-released a few records, played at cafes, and found her Christian faith. Before she knew it, she was signed to a contemporary Christian label ...

And so begins the mercurial career of Jennifer Knapp.

No one could have predicted the twists it would take after she signed on the dotted line. Her debut record, "Kansas," was an ode to her birthplace and the songs were filled with self-revelation and honesty that caught like a fire. It went gold. Accolades followed from The L.A. Times ("A rising star") and People magazine ("an uncommonly literate songwriter") and then the awards came calling. She won the Dove award for best new artist, then, back-to-back Grammy nominations for her follow-up releases of "Lay it Down" and "The Way I Am." They also sold well, bringing her over the million mark in units. She played Lilith Fair, she played clubs, she played more than 200 dates a year, living on the road for more than four years.

Then, the singer-songwriter did the "unthinkable" -- she walked away to take a little break. That was more than seven years ago. "At first I went to the Bahamas for a rest. Then I spent three months traveling the East Coast backpacking and camping. It was just supposed to be a break."

Fans were itching for new material. The demand was so strong that the Gotee label compiled "The Collection," which included some early music as well. During that time, fans held Internet vigils begging her to come back. She had no idea, because by then she was in Australia working at an antique shop.

"I wasn't ready to face the public," she says. "I felt like I was playing hooky or something. I had to get away. I was losing where my inspiration came from and shutting down. I was on tour for one album, it hadn't even been out for a whole year, and the A&R guys were telling me they needed a new record. I was writing in stairwells and not even living like a human being. It was insane."

The worst realization was yet to come.

"I had developed a fear and loathing every time I had to approach my own guitar. Instead of my sanctuary, it had no joy or purpose."

Realizing that she was no longer capable of the task, she had to examine what it was all about. Living in the remote Outback of Australia, where you can see red dirt and sky forever, felt like the perfect place to get in touch with oneself ... and mourn.

"It was the polar opposite of where I had been and gave me complete anonymity. I refused to write for five years. I really started to mourn the death of my music. I wasn't going to get any peace or comfort. People talk about the stages of grief. When I'd finally done that, I began to relax again."

Back in the rest of the world, fans were still asking "Where is Jennifer Knapp?" They were building tribute websites. They hijacked her name and built so many phony sites that she actually had to post a YouTube video announcing her comeback and directing fans to the real site. The demand was shocking to Ms. Knapp, who completely missed the whole technology thing living on the edge of the world.

She explains laughing, "This Google thing found its way to me ..." And it didn't end there. "I wasn't paying attention. My royalty checks were really decreasing in that time frame, the statistics were so severe." She thought it was indicative of her being away from the public eye and had no idea it was due to Internet downloading.

When she first left, she wasn't sure she would ever return, questioning if she had ever taken ownership of what music meant to her and how it affected others. Then one day it just happened.

"I was oddly attracted to sitting down and playing again. There wasn't anybody bothering me. Slowly, I learned the artistic process and the vulnerable preciousness of music."

She started playing her new tunes for friends and it was very apparent that it was time to get back to doing "what I was put here to do ... and I was scared to death." She returned to the States and started working with producer Paul Moak (Martha Wainwright, Amy Grant), marveling at how quickly the process went along. She put together an EP of five songs that evolved into the forthcoming release "Letting Go."

Her songwriting skills are sharper than ever and the new CD is being marketed to the folk-rock, not the Christian, crowd, although spiritual themes are ever-present. As she prepares to join the return of Lilith Fair this summer, she is playing dates and feeling as if she is beginning her journey again, except this time she's approaching it with a hyper-awareness of keeping her soul and body in check. She credits her team with "being true defenders of my time and space."

In the end, Ms. Knapp says that her fans continue to blow her away.

"I'm completely and utterly shocked by the audience that is familiar with my journey and waited for me all of this time."

She credits them for the continued inspiration to push on. Moreover, she is thrilled that she finally understands and respects the gift of music that ties them, even for a moment in time.

"I'm doing what I was made to do. ... What an amazing opportunity for me to have."

Critics Andrew Druckenbrod and Scott Mervis talk about music on "The Beat," available exclusively at PG+, a members-only web site of the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. Our introduction to PG+ gives you all the details.