This Art began not with a plan, but with worship. It was my birthday, and I found myself standing before a blank canvas, music playing softly, hands trembling with expectation. What began as celebration soon became sacred encounter. Each stroke, each color, felt guided — not by technique, but by the Holy Spirit.
I remember the first marks clearly. Vibrant pinks leapt across the surface like praise itself — full of life, joy, and freedom. The brush danced, quick and alive, as if Heaven were joining in. Those colors represented the beginning of something unseen, a language of worship translated into pigment.
As I painted, shapes began to form: abstract symbols, hints of movement, glimpses of something divine. They were like whispers — patterns that carried meaning, yet refused to stay in focus. Slowly, they began to fade into the background, surrendering their place to something greater. It was as if the entire painting bowed before what was about to appear.
And then, in the quiet, He came.
Not in thunder or flame, but in stillness. From the sea of color emerged a face — strong yet gentle, full of glory and peace. It was Yeshua, Jesus Himself, radiant and near. His gaze was calm, yet it carried the weight of eternity. His hair flowed with light, and His presence filled the room. I didn’t paint Him — He appeared as I worshiped.
That moment changed the direction of the Art completely. I set down my brush, closed my eyes, and began to sing His name. Every melody felt like it carried another stroke of light. When I opened my eyes again, I saw Him — the image fully formed, resting in gold, alive with divine beauty.
From that point on, the process became prayer. Each layer of acrylic, each touch of gold leaf, was an offering. The resin poured over the surface like living water, sealing the moment forever. It felt like capturing a breath of Heaven — delicate, luminous, and holy.
This Art is not just a portrait. It is an encounter. It speaks of Jesus in His glory — not distant or severe, but tender and near. His expression holds invitation: “Come to Me, all who are weary.” His eyes seem to meet yours, drawing you into rest. In His gaze there is no condemnation, only compassion and welcome.
When I look at this Art, I feel the same peace that filled the room that day. It reminds me that worship is not a performance; it is communion. It’s where the Creator meets His creation, where color becomes prayer and silence becomes song. The canvas becomes an altar, and the act of painting becomes an act of surrender.
The use of gold leaf was intentional. Gold represents divinity, the eternal nature of God’s glory. It catches the light, shifting as you move — a living reminder that His presence is never static. The pinks and soft tones around Him speak of love, grace, and healing. Together they create harmony — warmth and radiance balanced with peace and purity.
The resin gives this Art a glass-like finish, sealing both form and meaning. It reflects light like living water, a mirror of Heaven’s beauty. As you stand before it, you almost see yourself reflected in the glow — as though Jesus were not only looking at you, but through you, speaking softly to your soul.
This Art was born out of worship and remains a call to worship. It invites you to rest, to breathe, and to be still. It reminds you that His glory is not meant to intimidate, but to embrace. The same light that shone on the canvas longs to shine in you.
Hang this Art where you pray, rest, or simply seek stillness. Let its presence turn your room into sanctuary. Each time your eyes meet His, remember that you are known, loved, and invited into His rest.
It stands as a declaration that beauty flows from surrender, and that the truest inspiration comes not from ambition, but from adoration. Every brushstroke is testimony — He meets us where we offer Him space.
In a world that rushes and demands, this Art whispers, “Peace, be still.” It reminds you that even in the noise, His presence is here. That glory is not far away — it is within reach, shimmering through the veil, waiting to embrace you.
This is more than Art. It is a visual embrace — gentle yet glorious. A sacred space for your heart to rest in His presence. A reminder that when you lift your hands in worship, Heaven answers with light.
