by | Faith Lived Out, Music
It was December 2008. I received a phone call telling me they didn’t think my dad was going to make it through the night. Hospice was coming in to offer him end-of-life care.
I was standing near my friend Jennifer’s spare bedroom dresser when I got the call. It was a phone call no 25-year-old girl who had lived her life desperate for the love of her dad, wanted to receive.
I immediately got in the car to go to him. I knew he had to know Jesus before he died. I had to tell him about Jesus!
Little did I know, my carefully planned ‘salvation talk’ would take an unexpected turn. As they say, when you make plans for God, He chuckles.
I got to the house and he was lying in the bed. Hospice hadn’t yet brought the hospital bed. I remember nothing except the next thing I knew, there was a Bible on his bed, we were talking about something from Beth Moore, and I asked him if he wanted to accept Jesus into his heart. He couldn’t talk much; he was too weak, but he said yes.
And there, at that bedside, my dad gave his life to Jesus!
That night, I slept beside him in the bed because there was nowhere else to stay. It was the last time he’d ever wrap his arms around the “little girl” who wanted nothing more than to have a healthy relationship with her dad.
I woke up the next morning and he was still there. So weak. So feeble. So sick. But hanging on.
What started as “he won’t make it through the night” became weeks. We prayed together, asked for each other’s forgiveness, and even laughed a time or two when he was strong enough to wake up. I read him the Bible, and we rang in 2009 together at my aunt Sherri’s house.
Though there’s so much in the in-between, it would take too long to tell the story. Let’s just say God intervened and brought my dad back from the pit of death, literally.
January 2009
My mom and I drove him to the hospital to check him in so he could be treated for the hole in his lung. Talk about the grace of God. There stood the woman he’d divorced, helping carry him into the hospital, despite their past, because LOVE covers a multitude of sins.
Before we took him to the hospital, Dad and I got in the car and rode some gravel roads through Belle. We talked about this being a second chance for him and that he had the opportunity to do things differently. He seemed excited.
At the hospital, I hugged him goodbye and told him we’d see each other again soon.
February 23, 2009
We talked on the phone. I was coming down for the weekend, and we were going to ride gravel roads and make plans to go fishing. I was excited!
Later that evening, I missed his call, but he left a voice message telling me he loved me.
February 24, 2009.
My mom, Christi, showed up at 4:30 in the morning to tell me my dad died.
Died. Gone.
That is something no mother ever wants to tell her daughter. To say I grieved is an understatement.
Then there I sat with my best friend Jammie, holding my hand at the funeral home, hearing words like “cremation,” “burial,” and “death certificate.” No daughter should ever have to listen to these words at 25 years old.
I wish I could say something like, “It was his time to go,” or “he lost his battle with cancer.” But no… I can’t tell you that because it wouldn’t be true.
I learned later that my dad most likely died from an accidental overdose. Fentanyl. It had controlled him for years, and finally, it took his life.
Addiction. It stole my dad. Addiction. It stole him from ever walking me down the aisle. Addiction. It left me longing for a relationship I never got to have with a man I so desperately wanted to know better.
BUT LET ME TELL YOU WHAT ADDICTION DIDN’T STEAL.
My opportunity to mourn with hope. I hope that despite the sadness and the heartbreak, someday I WILL dance with my dad in heaven.
What if I hadn’t gone to see him with the urgency to lead him to Christ? I wouldn’t be able to mourn with hope.
What if I had been too afraid to talk to him about Jesus because I didn’t want to offend him or I didn’t want to be rejected again? I wouldn’t be able to mourn with hope.
Today, I miss so many “what ifs,” but I mourn with hope, knowing I will see him again someday.
I won’t pretend my dad didn’t die a broken man. He was in bondage. Though he had accepted Jesus, he hadn’t yet accepted the freedom Jesus could offer him from the chains of addiction wrapped around him so tightly.
Oh, what I would have given to see that for him.
BUT… God is not done telling my dad’s story. As a matter of fact, He’s about to do it in a way I never expected.
I’m not sure “excited” is the right word to express the news, but it works for now. God woke me up a few weeks ago to tell me that He wanted me to write an album telling my dad’s story.
So, I’m doing it. I’m not ready to release all the details yet, but I will. Right now, I’m writing. And healing. And grieving. And healing some more. It’s actually been an incredible journey, and it’s only just begun.
Keep me in your prayers as we push forward in this project because I believe He’s about to blow the top off like never before and do things with this project I could never even wrap my head around.
Today, 16 years ago, my life was forever changed. But God wastes nothing, and He’s doing something new. Doug Graham’s tragedy will not be wasted.
God is good.
by | Music
Last week at the iconic Memphis Rock N’ Soul Museum during Tennessee Songwriters Week, I had one of those unforgettable moments as a songwriter. I performed “Before Whiskey,” a song that’s particularly close to my heart, and the response was nothing short of overwhelming.
There’s something profoundly moving about not just performing a song but also feeling it resonate deeply with the listeners. During this performance, the room fell silent, the atmosphere charged with emotion. I watched both men and women in the audience shed tears, nodding in agreement with the lyrics. It was tough for me to keep it together as I sang, feeling every word echo both my personal reflections and their unspoken feelings.
God did His thang!
Seeing this reaction made it clear: “Before Whiskey” must be my next single. This song isn’t just a collection of melodies and lyrics; it’s a piece of my soul, crafted into a song that speaks of life’s deeper truths.
I recently met with my producer, and we’re both excited about bringing this song to you in its full studio version. We are putting the final touches on it and I can’t wait for you to hear it.
This song was written from a real, raw place in my heart, and I am eager to share the entire story behind it as we approach the release date. Stay tuned for more details!
Thank you for being part of this journey and for your continued support.
by | Faith Lived Out, Music
A few months ago, I was sitting across from an industry pro over coffee in Nashville, and I shared with him, “I don’t know where I fit. I’m not sure I fit in the church and don’t really fit in the bar every night.”
He asked me… “Who told you that?”
“I just told you that,” I replied with a strange look on my face.
He gently called me up and out of that lie for the next hour, reminding me I could fit anywhere. I have the stories and the songs that fit in the church and a bar. He reminded me I have a message that matters.
So I came home and sat on our conversation for a minute. Then, I got brave enough to talk to the Lord about it. Honestly, I’d been avoiding the conversation.
It went a little something like this…
Me: God, why would I want to play music full-time in churches? I don’t even like the church right now. (Yes, I’m a worship leader. Yes, that’s a conversation for another day.)
God: You’re talking about my bride.
Me: Crap. You’re right. I’m sorry. What do you want me to do, Papa? I want to do what You want.
God: I want you to tell the church I love them, and I’m giving you the chance to do it with music and laughter.
Me: Tears and Silence
But we all know I can’t stay silent for long. So, through the tears, I told the Lord, “If this is what you want me to do, I’ll do it.”
God: Do you trust me?
Me: Yes.
God: Do you trust me to help you dream?
Me: Ye… I… May.. Yes.
God: Tell me what you want.
Me: I want to be doing music full-time by 2026.
God: Do you trust me?
Me: Yes.
God: Then let me walk with you in this. I’ll go before and behind you. We’ll do things together for My Kingdom – more than you could ever ask or imagine.
I then went and changed my pants because the thought scared the crap out of me.
I then spoke those words out loud to trusted friends because I knew once I said them, I couldn’t take them back: “I want to do music full-time by 2026.”
And so here I am, on that path, building the dreams God has put on my heart, staying steadfast in who God called me to be so that I can tell others how much He loves them.
So, I’m here to announce I’m doing this thang, and there’s no looking back!
That said, I need your help! I want to bring “A Night of Music & Laughter with Sundi Jo” to your church or backyard. There’s going to be something for everyone: music, laughter, authentic storytelling, and a whole lot of Jesus.
Here’s the thing: churches aren’t just going to book someone they know nothing about. It’s going to take a personal connection to the pastor, administrative assistant, etc., to book a show.
And that’s where I need your help, my friend.
Can you connect me to your church? Or, if you’re the one in charge of bringing others in, I’d love to chat. You can get more details on “A Night of Music & Laughter” church events here…
Interested in a backyard concert? Let’s do this! It’s just me, you, and several of your amazing friends, family members, neighbors, etc. It’s a laid-back night of fun, music, and, of course, some shenanigans. You can get more info on house concerts here …
Let’s do this thang!
by | Music
All I could say was, “Thank you.” I planned out what I wanted to say. Thanks for your music. I couldn’t have made it through my childhood without you. I’m a songwriter. You inspire me to keep pushing forward. And other things I can’t remember.
But all I could muster was, “Thank you,” as I shook her hand and introduced myself. I felt like I was 12 again, trying to act like a mature adult. That didn’t last long, as I then explained how I got my unique name. “My parents were hippies. They smoked a lot of pot. That’s all I’ve got.” She laughed as she spelled it out in the autograph.
I’d finally met Terri Clark.
I was introduced to her music in 1995. I was 12. “Better Things to Do” came on the radio, and I was hooked. I bought her CD as soon as I could get my hands on it. (Look that up, kids. CDs were life-changing.)I had every song memorized. I think “Catch 22” was my favorite.
I wish I had pictures to show you of my bedroom walls. They were covered with cutouts from Country Weekly Magazine. I wanted to be surrounded by Country Music because it was my safe place – a reminder that despite all the pain, I could still dream.
When her picture showed up in my latest edition, I tore it out and hung it up next to Minnie Pearl’s picture. Ahh.. yes… another reminder to dream more.
And dream I did. I’d dream about hearing my own songs on the radio. I’d dream about writing a song with Terri. And when the reality of the past kept creeping in, her music would help drown it out.
So, why in the world could I not say anything besides “Thank you” when I finally had the chance to meet her? Perhaps that was all that needed to be said. Maybe it was just enough.
Thank you for your music. It was a saving grace for me when trying to escape the harsh realities of sexual abuse and rape and the shame tied to keeping the secrets.
Thank you for your music. It was a salve to my soul through the abandonment, rejection, and addiction of a dad who was too broken to love me the way a daughter is supposed to be loved.
Thank you for your music. It reminded me that I wasn’t alone when I couldn’t connect with my mom because she was just trying to find her own way through the brokenness of her past.
Thank you for your music. It helped me stand taller and say, “Hey, I can chase my dreams, too. I can be a songwriter. I can make a difference in the world.”
Thank you for your music. It pushed me forward to say, “I don’t have to stay where I am. I can do something different.”
It took me years to get there—to actually get past the shame, secrets, and self-sabotage and start chasing my dreams. But the fire in my heart never died. And when I walked out of the pit of the past and said, “I’m done talking about chasing my dreams; now I’m ready to build them,” her songs were still there to inspire me to keep building.
As I drove to Nashville, knowing I would meet Terri Clark, I listened to every album on the seven-hour drive, thinking about the different stages of life I was in during each album release. And I cried a little—okay, I cried a lot.
And then I got to her latest album, Terri Clark: Take Two, and I smiled through the tears. Because this stage of life is really, really good.
Because I’m not just dreaming about being a songwriter; I am a songwriter.
Because everything I’d used music to hide from is no longer sitting in the darkness. God has pulled me out of the pit and set me free.
Because I’m no longer living life afraid.
Before the meet-and-greet, she did an intimate 45-minute set, and before she sang “No Fear,” I swear she was reading my mail as she spoke because she said something along the lines of, “It’s never too late to chase your dreams.” Words I needed to hear.
So, I guess as I stood there and met one of my musical heroes, nothing else needed to be said. Just a simple yet profound “Thank you.”
Then, I started the seven-hour trek back to Branson. And I put Terri’s music on again and cried a little—okay, I cried a lot. Tears of joy. Tears of gratefulness. Tears that turned into prayers, thanking God for putting me on this musical journey as a songwriter.
I used to hit every wall there was / I used to run away from love / All I ever wanted was right here / But I had to reach way down inside / I had to have faith I’d find / No fear.
Thank you, Terri. Your music matters. Never forget it.
by | Faith Lived Out, Music
Ozark Songsmiths with Sundi Jo, a new monthly songwriters round, will kick off on Thursday, July 18, from 6-8 p.m. at Taps on Downing Street. This event, set to become a regular highlight on the third Thursday of every month, aims to bring together songwriters and music enthusiasts in a warm and welcoming atmosphere.
Recognizing the wealth of songwriting talent in the Ozarks, Sundi Jo created Ozark Songsmiths to provide a welcoming space for songwriters to connect and share their work. “I wanted to create a regular gathering where songwriters can support each other, and audiences can connect through the power of music,” said Sundi Jo.
Sundi Jo, an Americana/Roots Gospel Branson and Nashville recording artist, singer, and songwriter, is the driving force behind this initiative. Imagine a voice that sounds like a blend of Lucinda Williams, Iris Dement, Anne Wilson, and Zach Williams, and you’ll find Sundi Jo. She brings a soulful style to her music that makes her unforgettable. Her voice and ability to write songs from the heart drive her passion to keep making music.
Her latest release, “Ugly Houses,” is available now wherever you stream music.
Taps on Downing Street is the perfect venue for the night. With 24 craft beers, local wines, and delicious food, the modern-rustic taproom is ideal for hanging out with friends and listening to great music. They’ve got plenty of room for outdoor fun, fire pits, cornhole, and live music.
Whether you’re a songwriter looking to share your music or a music lover eager to discover new talents, Ozark Songsmiths with Sundi Jo is the place to be. To learn more, visit ozarksongsmiths.com.
For media inquiries, contact info@sundijo.com.
by | Faith Lived Out, Music
“Well I ain’t no fancy castle / Got too much junk inside / But if you buy ugly houses, Lord / I’m taking down my for-sale sign,” Sundi Jo sings with her soulful voice, bringing back that retro style as though you’re dropping the needle down on an old vinyl record. Her raw vocals quickly draw listeners in.
Rising music artist Sundi Jo is excited to announce her latest release, “Ugly Houses.” The song is now available on all major streaming platforms.
“Ugly Houses” is a soulful song about diving into the deepest places of our hearts and seeing the beauty that God sees. With its catchy melody, raw lyrics, and relatable message of redemption, “Ugly Houses” will surely touch listeners’ hearts.
Though Sundi Jo is a songwriter who records most of her own work, “Ugly Houses” was written by Hannah Dasher and Robert Arthur.
“When I first heard Hannah’s version of ‘Ugly Houses,’ I was completely captivated,” says Sundi Jo. “The message spoke to me personally, and I knew I had to make it my own. I’m so grateful to Hannah for giving me her blessing to share my own version with the world. I called up my buddy, Brad Hacker, from Little Alien Music Production and told him I wanted to make this my own. He worked his magic, and here we are. I love it!”
Sundi Jo is a Branson, Missouri-based artist whose soulful style and heartfelt songwriting make her music unforgettable. Her passion for creating music that resonates with listeners shines through in every note she sings.
“I want to write and perform songs that people can resonate with and really feel. The world needs more vulnerability, and so does the church. I hope to provide that, along with some hope.”
Listeners can stream and download “Ugly Houses” on Apple Music, Spotify, and all major digital platforms. To stay updated on Sundi Jo’s latest news and releases, follow her on social media and visit sundijo.com.
