A testimony about faith, fear, motherhood, art, and trusting God in uncertain seasons.
“Sometimes we think we’re waiting on God… but when the door finally opens, we realize we’re the ones hesitating to walk through it.”
There are moments in life where everything feels uncertain.
Moments where fear gets loud.
Where responsibilities feel heavy.
Where you wonder if the dream in your heart is irresponsible to pursue.
As a newly single mom of four, I found myself standing in one of those moments recently.
I had just lost my day job, the steady income that had been helping keep our family afloat. And while I’ve been an artist for years, creating paintings centered around hope, faith, childhood wonder, and the beauty of fleeting moments, I still wrestled deeply with fear surrounding my art career.
How could I trust being an artist to provide for my children?
How could painting possibly become something sustainable?
How could I confidently pursue something God had clearly placed on my heart when life already felt so unstable?
I kept praying and asking God, Why?
Why now?
Why this?
Why would this happen when I was already trying so hard just to hold everything together?
That Sunday, I sat in church carrying all of those fears quietly inside me.
Then the pastor asked the congregation a simple question:
“Have any of you experienced a miracle?”
Without hesitation, I raised my hand.
Because I have.
I’ve seen miracles in my own life.
I’ve seen them in the lives of others.
I’ve seen God make a way where there seemed to be none.
But if I’m honest, even after raising my hand, fear was still sitting there beside my faith.
I remember thinking:
Okay… I’m going to trust You. I don’t know how this works out, but I’m going to trust You anyway.
And almost immediately after that thought crossed my mind, my phone pinged.
At first, I ignored it.
I was still logged into the backend of another artist’s Shopify store because I had been helping with website work and business tasks. I assumed she was simply processing an order or printing a shipping label on her own website.
But the notification didn't have her name on it... it was blank.
When I clicked the notification, I froze.
It wasn’t her storefront.
It was mine.
Someone had purchased one of my original paintings.
A $500 painting.
A painting I had not promoted.
A painting I had not shared online in over two years.
A painting quietly sitting on my website with no recent attention at all.
I couldn’t believe it.
I was excited, emotional, hopeful…
This was the very style of painting, the first one I did incorporating the theme of fleeting childhood moments with my acrylic palette knife style. It felt like confirmation to me to continue to paint in this direction.
The Painting That Started It All
This unexpected sale became the catalyst for everything that followed — the trip to Oklahoma, the restoration of paintings I thought I might never see again, and a renewed confidence in the direction God has been leading my artwork.
[View the original painting here and the story behind it here.]
…and then panic immediately set in.
Because that painting was sitting inside a storage unit in Oklahoma.
A storage unit I had been trying to gain access to for over seven months.
A storage unit that wasn’t in my name.
A storage unit nearly a thousand miles away.
Suddenly I was trying to figure out how in the world I was going to retrieve this painting while taking care of four children and navigating one of the hardest seasons of my life.
After church, I spoke with my friend (who I'll keep anonymous), who told me she had some ideas but had to run into a church meeting and would text me afterward.
I went home and sat with my mom trying to figure out what to do.
Refund the collector?
Fly there?
Drive my minivan?
Rent a truck?
We started researching options and realized something surprising: renting a Penske truck with unlimited miles would cost nearly the same whether I flew there or drove myself.
There was just one problem.
I had never driven a Penske truck before in my life.
Then my friend texted me:
“I’ll watch your kids. Go get your stuff.” (paraphrased)
I just stared at my phone in disbelief.
Because suddenly, one by one, doors started opening.
My mom stepped in.
My friend and her family stepped in.
People started showing up exactly when I needed them.
But that night, I completely broke down.
I sat crying in front of my mom saying,
“I can’t do this.”
I was exhausted emotionally, physically, mentally.
I had just recently done another turnaround trip out of state, and the idea of driving almost a thousand miles to Oklahoma and back in a couple days felt impossible.
But my mom gently reminded me of something I desperately needed to hear:
God had already been making a way this entire time.
For months, I had been praying for access to that storage unit.
For months, nothing happened.
And now suddenly every piece was falling into place.
The problem wasn’t that God wasn’t moving.
The problem was that when He finally opened the door, I felt afraid to walk through it.
That realization hit me deeply.
Sometimes we think we’re waiting on God, but when the opportunity finally comes, we realize we’re the ones hesitating because it’s happening faster — or differently — than we expected.
The next morning, I packed up and drove me to pick up the truck.
And somehow, by the grace of God, I made the entire drive to Oklahoma in one shot.
Late that night, I arrived exhausted but relieved.
The next morning, my husband’s friend met me with the keys to the storage unit.
And there it was.
Not just the sold painting.
But years of my life.
Paintings I thought I might never see again.
Art supplies.
Sentimental boxes.
Baby blankets.
Special belongings from my late father.
Pieces of our story.
Pieces of my children’s story.
Irreplaceable things that I had already mentally let go.
It felt like God was restoring far more than a painting.
It felt like He was restoring pieces of me.
Then another miracle unfolded.
Two girlfriends — both incredibly busy women — somehow happened to have availability that day and came to help me load the truck.
Together we packed the largest truck I could afford completely full.
And right as we shut the back door of the truck, it started sprinkling rain.
Perfect timing.
Again.
I drove to get gas and noticed dark storm clouds forming in the distance. When I checked the weather, tornado warnings and flooding were expected within minutes.
I remember thinking,
Time to go! Bye Oklahoma!
So I quickly grabbed some Braum’s ice cream to bring home to the kids and started the drive back to Louisiana.
By Wednesday afternoon around 4:30 p.m., I pulled into my driveway.
My friend's husband and several men from church met me there and unloaded the truck for me.
Every single thing.
Then, because we still had the truck, we even helped my mom move some items from her own storage unit too.
By that night, I had my children back home with me, exhausted beyond words but deeply grateful.
And somehow… the story still wasn’t over.
On the drive home from Oklahoma, the artist I had worked for previously suddenly called me.
I had actually been wanting to call her to tell her everything that had happened.
So I shared the entire testimony.
And after listening, she paused and asked:
“I was actually calling you to ask you if you wanted a job?”
I laughed.
Because once again, the timing felt too perfect to be coincidence.
Not only was God growing my confidence as an artist, but He was also providing stability through work that aligned perfectly with my gifts — helping another artist with business, branding, marketing, websites, and strategy.
Everything I learned in business school.
Everything I had walked through.
Everything I had experienced.
None of it was wasted.
Even the fears I carried about instability were being answered.
...The other night before bedtime, my daughter asked me,
“Mom, if you could be anything in the world, what would you be?”
And I told her:
“I would want to be your mom… and an artist.”
She looked at me and said:
“But you already are those things!”
I laughed again. Happy tears came too.
Because she was right.
God had already been building the very life I was praying for.
Not in the way I expected.
Not in the timeline I imagined.
But in a way far greater than I could have orchestrated myself.
Then I discovered something incredible.
The church meeting my friend had rushed off to that Sunday — revolved around fundraising efforts helping children through ministry work and an orphanage they partner with.
So after returning home, I approached one of the men helping coordinate fundraising efforts at church and told him (nervously) that if they ever needed live painting for fundraising or mission work, I would love to help.
As a mother, an artist, and a believer, helping children deeply aligns with my heart and mission. One of the greatest desires I’ve carried in building my life has never simply been to provide for my own children, but to someday help other children too.
He responded by saying they actually needed to find donations for a silent auction fundraiser and that this was an answered prayer.
And suddenly everything connected.
The paintings I thought I might never see again…
the paintings I had prayed over…
the paintings sitting forgotten in a storage unit for over a year…
were now becoming part of something bigger.
That’s the thing I keep learning in this season:
This story isn’t just about me.
It’s about how God weaves all of us together.
How He uses community.
How He uses generosity.
How He uses hardship.
How He uses timing.
How He uses even the smallest details.
Sometimes the miracle isn’t only the answered prayer.
Sometimes the miracle is realizing God was guiding every detail long before you understood what He was doing.
God cares about the big things.
But He also cares about the small things.
The storage units.
The phone calls.
The people who show up.
The timing of the rain.
The strength for the drive.
The provision.
The restoration.
The doors opening exactly when they need to.
And maybe that’s what I want people to take away from this story most of all:
God cares about the small things too.
Not just the life-changing moments.
Not just the huge breakthroughs.
But the quiet details.
The burdens you carry silently.
The fears you don’t say out loud.
The dreams that feel impossible.
The prayers whispered through tears.
If you’re walking through uncertainty right now…
If you’re afraid…
If you feel like you’re standing on the edge of something impossible…
I hope this reminds you:
You may not see the full picture yet.
But God is still weaving things together in ways you cannot imagine.
And sometimes the very thing you’re afraid to trust Him with…
becomes the exact thing He uses to bless not only your life —
but the lives of others too.
... and my new collector may never know the teamwork, and sheer god-driven mountain moving logistics that went into shipping this painting. It was pretty amazing, and I'm incredibly grateful to be able to share this story and testimony with you.
Thank You for Reading
If this story encouraged you in any way, thank you for being here.
Whether you’ve supported my artwork, shared a kind word, prayed for my family, or simply followed along quietly from afar — I’m deeply grateful.
This season has reminded me that art can be so much more than something beautiful hanging on a wall.
It can tell stories.
It can preserve fleeting moments.
It can encourage people.
It can bring hope.
And sometimes, it can become part of something far bigger than we ever imagined.
You can view available original paintings here:
Or follow along with my journey on IG here:
Thank you for reading. ♡
