Healing Through Creating

So the past few months I’ve been enthralled in production and writing for a new album. The process started before Ella died, and it has taken me and my producer a long time to get it finished. There have been countless times when I wanted to give up, and throw in the towel on these songs and this journey. Every morning I go to the mountain of depression, discouragement, and apathy. Every morning I get out of bed, and put one foot in front of the other. This project has literally been a thousand tiny baby steps for me. A few months ago I had an idea that really inspired me, and has helped me to complete this. I came to the point when I would listen to these songs, and sing them–and I would see them. I would see Ella’s tiny little hands, and see my husbands face…and all of the pain and heartache we have been through. And it donned on me that I need to bring these songs, and this EP to life through film. I think it’s such an important part of my healing journey, and the healing journey for other mothers–who will see themselves in these videos. Grief and loss is so hard sometimes to put into words–people who haven’t been through it don’t understand the extent of the loss. The fact that you had a million hopes and dreams for this child, and they are all dashed to the ground.  I want to show that. I want people to see a mothers grief in an empty room. I want to show a fathers grief in a burnt room. I want to show the child disappearing from a future that will never  be. Thank you for your support. I am in the final hours of this campaign and every little bit will help this dream come to life. Let’s do this for our children.


Cussing At You

A series of short journal entries that show me grappling with my faith. I felt like they needed to go together.



Where is my Shepard, Where is my refuge?

I’m bound for more bad weather

And I’d feel a lot safer if I knew that it was you

The waves came without warning

And I know that I am bordering on defeat and doubt

It’s just before, I never had to go without

If you could find it in your gracious heart

To not only do your part, but mine too

I’ve been told that there is nothing your Love can’t do

Well tonight I’m a drunken sailor

And I’m afraid I’m cussing at you



Tight rope and we can’t let go

Or we’ll wreck ourselves

And the whole pain will be for naught

Do you exist?

It feels like you don’t

My faith is paper thin

If this is a battle, don’t bet on my win



Nothing I do will ever be as important to me as it once was

No, I do not want to go out to dinner and talk about your life

Mine is not alright

They’ll have to forgive my terrible social interactions

I’m not feeling capable of much undeserved compassion

Really, I’m on the search for my new distraction

Throw myself into song

Throw myself into deed

Maybe that is what happens when we are in need

We give that hope and pray that we hold someone else’s


It’s Been Awhile, I’m Still Here…

I’ve been pretty quiet the last two months. Ella’s due date came and went–and brought all kinds of new heartaches. I’ve felt a little numb, and unable to articulate much. I know that it’s important but sometimes I fail to see what the point of talking, or writing is. It doesn’t change much. I am going to take you back to February. We had to finally go and pick out Ella’s headstone marker.

Here is what I wrote:

What do I put on my daughters gravestone? What simple words can sum up her entire existence, or importance? How can I honor her appropriately? What phrase, or poem, or line, or sonnet could possibly be good enough for her? She was perfect. She never harmed or hurt anyone. Never spoke a cruel word. No one knew her as well as I did–and I’m overwhelmed with the responsibility of immortalizing her in stone. To write her name, a date, and period–the end. No tribute could ever be good enough in my eyes. She is gold and everything I say is a fools errand.

I know she is not here anymore. She is somewhere magnificent–and I find myself wondering if she will know me. If she will run to me, and if God will allow me to see her first. I wonder about this often. I long for it.Image