Our Littles
One by one, each of our children grew up and left home. I wrote this to hold on and let go at the same time.
A song for when…
Miss Me, But Let Me Go
My grandma left this poem in a handwritten note to be read at her funeral. Over the years, I've turned to its message for comfort, and I hope this song comforts you.
Good Timber
Everyone has faced a storm they weren't sure they'd survive. I added the last verse for the hand that held me up through mine.
Seeking His Face
I wrote this while living in Thailand, yearning to draw closer to Christ and have Him comfort me.
Holy is Thy Name
A slot canyon, my hand on million-year-old stone, and a patience so vast that all I could do was praise His name.
The Touch of the Master's Hand
A battered old violin, an auction, and the one hand that knew what it was worth.
Albums and singles
Only the beginning of His patience
This song was born in The Narrows of Zion National Park, the slot canyon where the Virgin River has carved through million-year-old stone. I'd been hiking for hours against the current when I stopped, pressed my hand against the canyon wall, and felt the texture of something I couldn't name.
Standing there, surrounded by what that river had patiently carved over millions of years, I had a spiritual impression that stopped me cold: this is only the beginning of God's patience for the children of men.
Receiving His Name
A book by Kevin Kline Ball for Latter-day Saints
The same afternoon in The Narrows sits at the center of my book about the 200+ names of Jesus Christ, and what it might mean to take His name upon us in more than metaphor.
“It is essential reading for any serious disciple seeking to follow Him more fully.”
Send me a note
A question about a song, a story one of them brought back, a request for sheet music...I'd love to hear from you.