For the woman in her wilderness season.
There’s a place in this country called the Badlands.
From a distance, it looks barren. Desolate. Like nothing could survive there. But when you get close — when you actually walk through it — there’s this wild, quiet beauty that stops you in your tracks. Colors you didn’t expect. Life where you thought there was none.
That’s exactly what this season of my life has felt like.
When the Wilderness Finds You
I lost my mom last year.I know some of you know that. Some of you have been with me through it. And some of you are reading this right now because you know exactly what that kind of loss feels like — that specific grief that nobody really prepares you for.
It’s not just missing her. It’s the moments in between.
It’s reaching for your phone to call her when something good happens. It’s wanting her voice when you’re confused and don’t know which direction to go. It’s that particular longing — for her wisdom, her laugh, her way of making everything feel more settled — and then the quiet that rushes in when you remember she’s gone.
That quiet is its own kind of wilderness.
And right in the middle of navigating that grief, life kept moving. My oldest — my first baby— is getting ready to leave home. The child I prayed for, raised, watched grow into this incredible young man is about to step into his own life. And I’m so proud of him. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t holding on tight to every single moment, not wanting this season to be over.
Loss and change came at the same time.
And it felt like the Badlands. Like wandering. Like standing in the middle of something vast and desolate and wondering which way was forward.
What God Does in the Wilderness
Isaiah 43:19 spoke to me in the middle of all of it.
“I am doing a new thing. Now it springs up — do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”
Not after the wilderness. Not once you find your way out. Not when things get easier.
IN it. He makes a way IN the wilderness. Streams IN the wasteland. Beauty IN the Badlands. I’ve read a lot of verses in my life but this one hit differently this year. Because it didn’t promise me the wilderness would end. It promised that even in the most desolate season — even when I couldn’t see the path, couldn’t hear my mom’s voice, couldn’t see what was coming next — something new was already being made. I just had to trust what I couldn’t see yet. That’s not easy. I won’t pretend it is. There were days this year that felt heavier than anything I’ve carried before. Days when the loneliness of a wilderness season sat on my chest like a weight. But I kept coming back to that verse.
Streams in the wasteland.
You can’t see a stream until you get close enough. You can’t feel the water until you’re standing in it. Faith is walking toward something you can’t see yet — because the Word says it’s there.
Why I Named It the Badlands
I didn’t want to call this collection “Wilderness.” That felt too heavy. Too lost. The Badlands felt right because the Badlands are misunderstood. People drive past them and see emptiness. But the women who stop — who actually get out and walk through them — they see something completely different. Layers of color in the rock. Wildflowers growing out of nothing. A sky so big it takes your breath away. That’s what I wanted this collection to feel like.Simple. Quiet. But full of something when you look closer.
Ivory. Tan. Hair on hide leather. Hints of pink like a desert sky at dusk. Nothing loud. Nothing trying too hard. Just real, beautiful things built to last — with meaning underneath every piece.
This collection isn’t about trends. It isn’t about being seen.
It’s about carrying something that reminds you — every single day — that you are not lost. You are not forgotten. You are not alone in your wandering.
You are in the Badlands. And streams are coming.
This One Is for You
If you’re reading this and something in you recognized what I described — the reaching for someone who isn’t there, the holding on to what’s changing, the quiet that comes when life shifts in ways you didn’t choose — this collection is for you.
I built it in my wilderness season. I prayed over every piece. I named every one with intention. And I believe — the way I believe in that verse — that it found its way to you for a reason.
You are not alone in your Badlands season. He is making a way. Right now. In the middle of it. And there is beauty here, if you look close enough.