This painting came out of a particularly rough season of my life. I ironically painted this while recovering from COVID. I had a really rough case of COVID that left me debilitated for weeks. COVID was rough enough on its own, but I had other health issues going on at the same time. One of the health issues I developed suddenly in this season was vasovagal syncope, a condition that causes me to pass out on a whim and lose consciousness briefly. I say “briefly,” but don’t be fooled - when I wake up a few seconds after passing out, it takes at least 10 minutes to regain a sense of understanding about who I am and where I am, and then at least another couple of hours to feel like I can bodily function again, and then a week or two to feel completely “normal” again. Now imagine dealing with this while you drive in vicious LA traffic and you’ve got yourself a precarious situation. I had several other equally difficult health problems going on at the same time as this.

It seemed like every time I took a step in the direction of taking care of my health, whether it would be visiting a doctor, exercising, I would be thrown a new hellish curveball of a health problem to deal with. My efforts to care for myself seemed completely futile. And I kept getting this sense that God was the one afflicting me with these issues. I mean, after all, He was the one I was praying to for relief - and yet I was just getting worse the more I prayed. What is one to do with this?

I pictured myself trying to build a life, build a career, build up my health - and it seemed like every time progress was being made, God came in and stomped on it, sending me back to square one, except more discouraged each time. Did He not want health and happiness for me? He did after all create our bodies and minds and called them “good” in Genesis. Does He not also think its “good” for the bodies and minds He created to experience joy and relief from pain?

Is God like the bully in this painting - stomping gleefully on the young boy’s sand castle creation and rubbing his foot in smugly for good measure to assure the young boy that he has no hope? Or could God be like the helpless boy in the picture - unable to do anything about the destruction of beauty going on in front of him? Or God could be off in the distance outside of the canvas, watching passively. When God is silent, is He aloof? Does He care?

One of my favorite verses about Jesus’ character is John 10:10. It reads, “The thief comes only to steal, kill, and destroy, but I have come that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” I love this verse on so many levels, but one reason is because it conveys what our hearts have always wanted to hear deep down: that God doesn’t want theft, death, and destruction for us. He wants us to have life - and not only life, but abundant life. A life that flourishes with beauty and truth and goodness.

This painting served as a reminder of hope during a difficult season by embracing the silence.

This painting was created on a 1.5” thick canvas, with the painting continuing around the edges. It arrives in a black, modern floater frame. It is part of a triptych and is the first painting in the series. The second painting is called, “Tetelestai.” The third painting is still in process.