Abide with Me: The Story

Photo by Nelson Santos Jr on Unsplash

Dear friends,

It is late, and I can’t hardly believe I’m still up, but I have something in my heart that I want to share.  I, like you, have been watching FAR too much of the news for my good lately.  No, I don’t think it’s a bad thing to be up on what’s going on in the world.  And I appreciate those who are working hard to give us accurate information.  But today, after reading news articles, and wondering if a grocery pickup for a few more things on Monday would be futile (likely!), and scrolling through posts on facebook and instagram for far too long and far too frequently, and and and….I sat down to read my scriptures and listen to a BYU devotional (this one:  Wouldn’t you know it, by the time I was done, the dreary feeling that had been there only minutes before was replaced with hope and peace.  Magic?  Nope- even better: light.

At the end of the devotional that I watched, Janet Bradford quotes several hymns and I was (again) struck by how powerful they were; power we need in our world today!  It was then that I made a resolve to add my voice to those that are sharing positive messages around the world.  Have you heard them?  Messages that speak of this being “our greatest hour”, of a loving God who is watching over us, of the hidden blessings that are to be found in the challenges of our day…I add my voice: peace and joy are available today and are found in Jesus Christ!  “Who but thyself my guide and stay can be?”  This is my very favorite line of the hymn “Abide with Me.”  Who else can I rely on when chaos is both outside and inside of me?  Only He can provide the deep security and help that I am looking for.  I am resolving to spend more time focused on the light and less time spinning in the dark.  Tomorrow, the Sabbath, is a good day to start.

He is my anchor.  He is my strength. He is my source of peace.  And I am so grateful for Him: Jesus Christ

This arrangement was written as an expression of my testimony after a very difficult several weeks last fall.  I’m delighted to share it with you tonight.  Much love, friends!  (Click on the link below:)

Abide with Me


Easier than I thought…

It’s amazing how big something can seem in your brain when, in fact, the job itself is much more manageable.  I figured it would be quite a process to set up a youtube channel but….it took me about 30 seconds.  My first video is one that was a delightful collaboration and you probably won’t understand the words.  Do you remember “Sunset” that I posted last year?  Well here it is in Mandarin! 😉  (For those of you wondering why the heck I chose to get it translated into Mandarin, that’s a story for another day!)




One note to another…

I hope you ate plenty of turkey and pie last weekend!

Today I am still trying to get back into routine after an enjoyable break with the family, but I wanted to share a quote I heard while listening to an instructional video about arranging, composing, and publishing:

“Music is the thousanth of a millisecond between one note and another.  How you get from one to the other: that’s music.”  ~Joel Raney

Here’s the link in case you’re interested:




Master of Colors: The Story


Hello again, Friends!  Today I’m happy to share with you a piece I wrote last year.  I read this story (see below) by Jill Thomas in November 2016 and was so touched.  Her visual descriptions resonated with me, and I immediately knew I would love to write a song based on the ideas she shared.  A few months later in the Spring of 2017, I was asked to speak at a Women’s Conference, but I had to turn down the opportunity knowing I was going to be out of town that weekend.  After thinking about the topic I had been asked to speak on, I realized it was the same idea presented in this story.

Suddenly I had a (crazy) thought that if I wrote and recorded this song, I could still share the message at the Women’s Conference without being there.  The deadline was less than two months away (and I didn’t really know anything about recording!) so I had to get cooking.  It was a joy working on this piece, and even more delightful when I presented the finished product to Jill.  Enjoy!  (For convenience, I posted the entire article below; but the original article can be found here:

Four years ago I lost my 21-month-old daughter, Penny, in a tragic accident. The cliché is that the death of a loved one puts your faith to the test. While this might be technically true, the actual experience is far more devastating than this little catchphrase lets on.

In the weeks and months that followed my daughter’s death, I desperately sought for some kind of real, tangible connection with her. But her death had wrecked me. And I felt nothing.

I believed that the Sunday School answers to read my scriptures, say my prayers, and go to church were inspired and true. But I was earnestly doing those things, yet felt nothing. I didn’t know how to be inspired or guided anymore. I was lost.

Meanwhile, in the midst of all this, my husband was also searching. He was looking for greater understanding, deeper knowledge, deeper connection, and deeper meaning to life. His searching had led him to question his faith.

So my situation was this: I had lost my daughter, and I believed the only way I could have her again was to fiercely live the gospel. But my husband was blocking our eternal progression by seeking answers outside of our church. I had lost my daughter. I was losing my husband. And according to my belief system, I was losing my eternal family. Where do you go from here?

My whole life I had found “formulas” to live by. There was a formula in my youth, to stay on the right path and to earn my parents’ trust. There was a formula as a young adult, to get married in the LDS temple and have a family. When I decided to be a film photographer in a very dense, digital age I found a formula that helped me become successful at my craft.

But now, with the death of my daughter, I found myself in a situation where the formula wasn’t right in front of me. I earnestly searched and prayed and eventually found a new formula that I discovered through the lens of photography. To understand it fully, bear with me as I share this story.

Imagine that we have a master and his intention is to create masters of green. Now imagine that up to this point we have never experienced color. So he could plant us into a world of green and it would be great. Except if the whole world is green, nothing is green.

The next option for the master would be to just tell us it’s green. Except this is how we teach our preschool students; we point and say, “This is green.” The master would be teaching us, but on a very basic level. This isn’t good enough for us. So what would the master do?

I propose he’d introduce distinction. He might plant us in a world of blue, but then he would take us out of the world of blue and plant us in a world of yellow. In doing so, there would be one group of people who would love yellow. They might even say, “Who needs blue anymore?”

But another group of people might hate yellow. They might say, “I hate these new ideas and these new perspectives. I just want to get back to what’s familiar. Get me out of here. Take me back to blue.”

Then you would have a third group of people. And this group is interesting because they wouldn’t abandon blue and they wouldn’t abandon yellow. They’d see that the master gave them both blue and yellow. In that moment they would have an awakening and they would see green.

This is called a paradox—two ideas or concepts that are both true but in general can’t be true at the same time. Now, I realize by definition blue and yellow are not paradoxical, but they are on opposite sides of the color wheel, one warm and one cool. And they’re helpful in explaining how you can have two contradictory ideas or concepts that can lead to a transcendent concept that eliminates the apparent contradiction.

It’s what I call “seeing green,” and I believe it’s where the highest truth lies. It’s how we learn to see things as the Master intended. And we can only do so through opposition in all things. Let me share how blue and yellow were manifested in my life.

seeing-green-web2When I got married, I lived in a world of blue. I had a great family and I was doing what I loved in film photography. Life was good.

But the day my daughter Penny died, I was abruptly yanked out of my world of blue and thrown into a world of yellow. I hated yellow. It was full of grief and pain and suffering. My daughter wasn’t there. It was full of new ideas and new questions, like “What does it really mean to be a forever family?”

All I wanted was to go back to blue—to be happy again. So I tried. I tried to go back to my everyday life. But as I tried, I discovered that blue no longer felt blue any more. Things that used to excite me about life didn’t anymore. I knew the distinction between blue and yellow.

My world was just going to be yellow now. And since I didn’t feel like I was finding the answers I was looking for, I thought, “If I can just endure yellow, one day I’ll die and then answers will come.” But this didn’t resonate with me either.

So I started to create a space within myself where blue and yellow could exist together inside of me. At first this was very uncomfortable. But then something amazing happened. I realized the Master gave me blue and yellow because He wanted me to experience something more. He wanted me to see green. And I did. Through opposition in all things, I had direct experiences that brought me closer to God.


So where am I now in this journey we call life? I found more than the apparent split of happiness and its opposite. Down this path I found green. I found God. And I found my daughter. They were in green the whole time.

Click here to hear the recording! Master of Colors


Sunset: The Story


About two weeks ago, I said goodbye to a wonderful friend.  His name is Norm.  I hadn’t known him very long.  In fact, I got to know him the best in his last few weeks of life.  My heart still fills with joy when I reflect on the time I was blessed to spend with him.  Perhaps you can glimpse the sweetness of that time as I tell you the story; so pull up a chair and get comfy.  Since I wrote out the whole story in my journal, I’ll share with you parts of my journal entry about this experience.

(Written 9/2/18 with an addendum a few days later)

Well I can’t sleep so I might as well write. 🙂  My heart is full to overflowing tonight.

Norm and Cathy have been our friends for some time, as have Mike and Marlene.  Norm has been in and out of the hospital for the past year and has not been in good health the entire time.  On Sunday we found out Norm was in the hospital, and Jon (my sweetheart) suggested that our family go visit him. So we headed up there on a walk.  When we arrived at his room, we saw that his wife, Cathy, was there as well as Marlene and Mike (good friends of Norm and Cathy).  As we were visiting, Mike mentioned off-hand that Norm had written a bunch of poems when he was in his 30’s and 40’s that were quite good.

I am always looking for words to set to music, so I started asking questions about these poems: Did they rhyme?  What were they about? Could I look at a copy?  Have you ever thought about having one of them set to music? Norm was looking a little down when we came in but at the thought of his poem being set to music, he perked right up. “I need to talk to you!” he said.  It was a sweet conversation and I knew I needed to get my hands on those poems. Marlene dropped off her copy (a bound book of his poetry) that evening, not an hour after we left the hospital.

As I looked through the poems, I flagged several that I thought had potential for becoming songs (my favorite being one called “Sunset”).  By the time I had finished looking through the book, I knew this was a project I wanted to take on.  Before getting started, I thought it would be neat to ask Norm about his favorites.  So I ran up to the hospital on Tuesday to chat with him.  Mike, Marlene and Cathy were all there as well, and we spent a good hour going through the book.  Mike read several of the poems to all of us, Norm made some comments about various experiences, we laughed at some of Norm’s light-hearted poetry, and they all pointed out their favorites. I left with Norm’s blessing to choose one and get started on the music. 

Before I left the hospital, I knew that I would write two songs- “Penny in my Pocket”, and “Sunset”.  There was something almost musical about those two poems; they both had a “ring” to them.  I knew logically I would be able to put them to music without too much difficulty, but more than that, I knew this wasn’t all happening by coincidence- the timing and situation was just too perfect and felt so right.  Because He loved Norm, Heavenly Father had sent me to fulfill a long-awaited desire of his heart.  I was honored to be the messenger, and I couldn’t wait to get started.  


Interestingly enough, when I had left home for the hospital that morning I had the thought that maybe I should write the music in his presence- wouldn’t that be special?  I thought it might be a welcome distraction while he felt so lousy.  I knew there would be some challenges to writing it somewhere other than my home: I would have to get my hands on a portable keyboard, get permission to bring it to the hospital, and I’d have to haul it around.  Still, I felt compelled to pursue the possibility in case that opportunity was presented.  I checked with the nurses and found that they were enthusiastic about the idea of bringing a keyboard into the hospital, so that was no problem.  And I found a keyboard that a friend was not using after making one phonecall.  I picked it up that evening.  

Well, now I had a keyboard, but I didn’t know if Norm was headed home or not.  Each day included many doctor visits and tests to see where he was at medically.  It was challenging to know how persistent to be about the idea of bringing a keyboard up to the hospital.  Knowing it would delight Norm, I tried contacting Cathy on Wednesday to see when would be most convenient.  With so many unknowns it was impossible at that point to set a day and time, but I told Cathy I was available Friday and I would check in with them then.

Friday morning I tried getting a hold of Cathy and couldn’t.  I didn’t want to be pushy, but I kept feeling like that day was the day to do it.  I was antsy as I gathered my music-writing necessities together, and I eventually decided that i’d try to head up to the hospital about 1:00 and just feel out the situation.  I’d have my keyboard in the car so that if the opportunity came, I could take it. Jon’s parents were in town and had decided to take the kids out at 1:00 to go play tennis.  So when they left for the tennis courts, I left for the hospital.  I had a prayer in my heart the whole way, hoping and praying that I’d be sensitive to Heavenly guidance moment by moment since I really wasn’t sure what this would look like.

As I walked through the upstairs hallway, I met Cathy, almost at the elevator.  She was surprised to see me there and after a hug, shared that they had been given the news shortly before that Norm would not be leaving the hospital.  They would keep him there until he passed, which would likely be just a few days. She asked, “Could you bring your keyboard up to his room and help take his mind off of it?!”  Oh what a blessing! 

I stopped in to visit with Norm for a few minutes before grabbing my keyboard while Cathy ran a quick errand.  I remember him saying “I don’t have much time left.”  “I know,” I replied.  “I just saw Cathy in the hallway and she told me the news.  How do you feel about that?”  “Well,” he said, “I guess everyone has to go some time.”  I told him that I wanted to collaborate with him on “Penny in my Pocket” in his hospital room, but first I needed to read him my revised version to get his approval (I had done minor edits so the rhythm of each verse was the same).  He was enthusiastic about the revisions and was thrilled at the idea of me writing in his hospital room.  I ran out to the car and brought the keyboard in to get started.  Norm was (obviously) feeling pretty sick, but it was not hard to see that the idea of me playing music in his room cheered him up some. 

Part of the reason for picking “Penny in my Pocket” was that I had the sense that a sad emotional song wouldn’t be the thing for that day; he needed something light and cheerful to listen to.  I loved the spunk of his own words in that poem, and knew it would provide good atmosphere.  I worked on “Penny in my Pocket” as Cathy answered questions from the nurses and Norm dozed on and off. It was just the three of us and the occasional nurse for much of the afternoon. When Norm would wake up, he would ask where I was at with the music, and I had many chances to share.  The rest of the time I was providing background music: music therapy.

After 4 hours of joyful work, I had pretty much finished the sheet music for “Penny in my Pocket”.  I was amazed how quickly the process had gone.  It felt as if the music had flowed through me instead of coming from me.  I felt that there was no explanation except that I had received Heavenly help, and I was so thankful for it!  

On Saturday, I arrived at the hospital around 1:00. This time there was a lot of family there when I got there, and I was worried my presence would add chaos instead of calm.  Though I wanted to be sensitive to the family’s time, I knew Norm would enjoy hearing the finished product.  I was given the opportunity to sing “Penny in my Pocket” to him (using my music-writing computer program to accompany me) which was a joyful experience.  He was so peaceful as he listened with a little smile on his face. I’ll always remember that.

Then I tucked myself into a corner and started working on song #2 called “Sunset”.  The family gradually trickled out and soon there were only a few of us in the room again.  It was interesting because the tone of “Sunset” is very, very different than “Penny in my Pocket”. This one is tender and emotional.  It’s a “goodbye to life” song- one that could easily be used at a funeral, though it doesn’t specifically say anything about dying.  

Working on this piece was a very different experience.  Once again the music really flowed, but I found it was challenging to know how long to stay.  Norm needed rest, but every time I suggested that I leave, Norm would say something like “No- don’t go anywhere”.  It made me smile.  So I stayed a little longer. I felt that the words provided him with the opportunity to process what would be coming next: “Across the blue horizon where the mountains meet the sky……soon the creeping shadows will engulf the fading light.”  The music was soothing and overwhelmingly beautiful even to me. 

I joked that my Grandfather who passed away in June (an extremely talented composer) must have been sitting on those yoga blocks with me (I sat on yoga blocks to prop me up to be able to reach the keyboard better) because this music I was writing was beyond my capacity; though I said it in a light-hearted way, I really did believe I was getting angelic help…and if Heavenly Father was going to send an angel to help me in this circumstance, I knew it would be him for sure! 

IMG954047 (1)On this day especially, I felt I was performing a sacred service; I was there on a divine errand to fill this man with love and peace from his Father in Heaven as he got ready to transition from this life to the next.  I have always known Heavenly Father would be near in times that are difficult, but watching Him orchestrate a virtual symphony for one man made me recognize in a new way how much my Heavenly Father loves me, and how involved he is in my life, whether I recognize it or not. 

After 2 ½ hours, I had finished much of the song but had not put much down on the sheet music. I felt it was more important to spend the time playing this time, so I did.  I had everything pretty well nailed down- the melody, the chord structure- I just was needing to figure out the ending. I had some ideas, such as perhaps ending with a neat chord progression that really symbolized a new day had begun…but I wasn’t sure.  I left feeling that if I wanted to share this piece with Norm, I needed to be done by Sunday afternoon (about 24 hours away). So I got cooking.  

The experience of discovering the ending to “Sunset” was a special experience I won’t elaborate on here, but I miraculously finished the sheet music by 2:00 Sunday afternoon.  Record time, by any stretch of the imagination, once again. I knew that this song was a gift- the music flowed through me as it had the day before.  Perhaps I had previously underestimated how much of music writing is always a gift.  Perhaps that one shift mentally would allow the music to flow more than ever before as I let go of the control for future music writing endeavors.  My Uncle (David Gates) spoke at my grandfather’s funeral in June and I reflected on his comments as I wrote “Sunset”:

“I had known that my Dad had taught piano, music theory, conducting,
orchestration, and opera, and perhaps a dozen other musically related classes over
the years, but I only learned a few years ago that he had never taught composition,
when that was his greatest singular gift. I asked him about that. He replied that he
never taught it because he didn’t understand it. He did know how it worked. And
so he couldn’t really teach it to anyone else. He viewed it as a fundamentally
spiritual gift and sought to magnify it as much as possible. He viewed it as a kind
of worship. A way to express his gratitude and he constantly acknowledged its

That evening (Sunday) I went up to the hospital to sing for Norm and Cathy this beautiful gift, “Sunset”.  It was a tender experience.  I saw Norm one other time after that, on Wednesday afternoon.  I had the chance to sing “Sunset” to him again, and share my witness of life beyond death.  My tears flowed freely and I said my last goodbye.  I was honored to sing “Sunset” at Norm’s funeral the next week.  As my accompaniest played the interlude between verses, I smiled as I pictured him sitting nearby, listening.

I hope you enjoy Sunset!

(Recording of “Penny in my Pocket” is coming soon!)