Why I wrote Ashes and Sunflowers. Family, Faith, and Finding Our Way Back to the Light.
Sunflowers always turn their faces toward the light. I kept that image close while writing Ashes and Sunflowers—a story about a family learning to do the same.
This book was born from everyday love; the kind that folds laundry, keeps old journals in a cedar-scented box, and sets an extra place at the table because grace has a way of sending us guests—sometimes the ones we’ve been praying for.
I wanted to write a novel that tells the truth about loss without losing sight of hope. In the Barnes family you’ll meet:
Clara-a mother who keeps the house stitched together with faith and quiet strength.
Amber– her eldest daughter, an adult with intellectual disabilities on the Autism
Spectrum—whose wonder an honesty become a light for everyone around her.
Ashley– the younger daughter, steady and nurturing, who loves with her whole heart.
Thomas– husband and dad, a quiet builder of furniture—and of family.
Mary Hope– Clara’s niece and the daughter of Clara’s late sister Margaret, who arrives with a faded polaroid and a cassette tape and helps the family open old rooms of memory with gentleness.
I wrote these pages for families like ours—who know that joy and ache can live under the same roof, that laughter belongs at the table with tears, and that God is faithful in the in- between.
What you can expect
A faith warm story—Scripture appears softly at the end of each chapter, and grace threads through ordinary moments.
Gentle humor—because the holy often hides in the small, funny things.
Neurodiversity honored—Amber’s voice and routines are treated with love and respect.
A small-town sense of humor—porches, journals, the garden, and neighbors who remember your childhood nickname.
Healing without hurry—The Barnes family doesn’t rush their grief; they walk with it toward the light.
Why ashes and why sunflowers?
Ashes are what remains after a fire—proof that something mattered. Sunflowers turn toward the sun even on the cloudiest afternoons. Together they say what I believe. God can grow something beautiful from what felt like the end.
A note about Mary Hope
Mary Hope is not a surprise guest; she’s family—Clara’s niece and Margaret’s daughter. Her arrival doesn’t break the fragile peace so much as invites the family to tell the truth together. She is a bridge between what was and what can be.
If this story finds you today
Maybe your family is keeping going the best way you know how. Maybe you’re caring for someone you love. Maybe you need a gentle reminder that love is patient, practical, and very much alive. I wrote this book for you.
“Even from ashes, something beautiful can grow.”—Linda L Parham
Join me here
1. Tell me what small, ordinary thing is keeping you going this week? (Comments welcome).
2. Subscribe for updates on Book Two, Sunflowers Still Bloom, behind the scenes notes, and printable quotes.
3. Share this post with a friend who could use a warm, hopeful read.
With love and gratitude,
