Over the past days, our nation has been shaken by the news of a devastating landslide in Tauranga. Lives were lost. Families were torn open by grief. A place meant for rest and joy became a place of sorrow.
There are moments when words feel too small. When explanations fall short. When all we can do is stop, breathe, and acknowledge the weight of what has happened.
As a mother, a worshipper, and someone who loves this land deeply, my heart aches for the families who woke up to a reality they never imagined. No warning. No preparation. Just loss.
In times like this, we are reminded how fragile life is and how deeply connected we are to the whenua beneath our feet. The land that holds us can also remind us that we are not in control. And yet, even in the shaking, we reach for hope.
Holding Space for Grief
Grief doesn’t need fixing. It needs space.
Space to cry.
Space to remember.
Space to sit quietly and say, “God, we don’t understand but we need You.”
I believe that one of the most loving things we can do for one another right now is to hold space to resist rushing past the pain, and instead honour the lives that were lost by remembering them with dignity and compassion.
A Prayer Offered Through Music
In prayer, I felt led to respond the only way I know how through music.
I’ve released a short piano instrumental titled “A Prayer for Aotearoa.”
It isn’t meant to perform. It’s meant to be present.
This instrumental is an invitation:
- To pause
- To reflect
- To pray
- To sit with God in the silence where words fail
It was created as an offering of comfort for our nation and as a practical way to support those directly affected.
All proceeds from this release will go toward helping families impacted by the Tauranga landslide.
Standing Together as Aotearoa
This is not about selling music.
It’s about standing together.
If you’re able to support, thank you.
If you’re not, please share, pray, and hold these families close in your heart.
May we be a nation that mourns well.
May we be a people who carry one another’s burdens.
And may light still rise, even in the darkest valleys.
Aotearoa, we grieve with you.
Aotearoa, we stand with you.