In 1995 my dad and I made our first cross together. It still feels like yesterday, when he came walking up that hill with the body of a little African boy who had died from Malaria. We heard the screaming all night from the village down the hill, the boy's mother wailing as he was thrown out into the bush to the hyenas. It was part of their custom, but still a difficult thing for my teenage mind to grasp.

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The next morning dad went down to the tribal elders to request the body for burial, they agreed, marking that day as the first of many firsts. The first night a dead Maasai child would be given into the hands of a local missionary instead of the jaws of a hyena. The first night a body would lay silent in the workshop next door, and the first burial our little village would ever come to know.Momon was his name, he couldn't have been older than 4.

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Mom cut the clothes off his body to wash him for burial, then sewed new ones around his stiff little frame. Dad build the coffin, and together we made the cross. Our first cross. Years passed, but I never forgot that day, it always stuck with me, another reminder of just how fragile life is. How quick everything we love can be lost.21 years my parents were in Africa, most of those years we were oceans apart. So we decided to pick up where we left off... just making crosses.

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Piece by piece, we've been peeling old wood, tin and rusted nails off the Georgia Rain barn and rediscovering what it means to make something new out of what's too broken to fix. It's a hobby, just another way to soak up these last few years with my dad, but we figured we'd share it with you. If you're looking to add a little something special to your home this Christmas, or just want a piece of the Georgia Rain music video in your living room, try a Rustik Cross, handmade by me and dad.

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CRUCIFIX