The Biggest Epiphany of My Life

Me on the left, looking adoringly at my cousin.

I was six years old, sharing a bed with my eight-year-old cousin, who I absolutely adored (and still do). We were whispering and giggling, and she said she wanted an ice cube, and that she was going to sneak out and steal one. I instantly became nervous. "No, we'll get in trouble!" She brushed it off, saying, "I can do it! I'll steal one for you too!" I lay there in the dark, suddenly alone, heart pounding, listening as hard as I could for any signs of her getting caught, yelled at, or spanked. But she came back in, triumphant, and handed me a dripping ice cube - much appreciated in the heat of Florida. "Did anyone see you?" I asked. "Yeah," she said, "Dad caught me, but he just winked at me and didn't say anything." I couldn't believe it. In that moment, I felt safe and happy. We had many more nighttime escapades after that, including sneaking out and climbing on the kitchen countertops to chow down on the Flintstones Vitamins that were kept in the highest cabinet so that, theoretically, we couldn't eat them like candy.

Unfortunately, not all my childhood memories were that lighthearted. We often lived with my aunt and cousins to escape violent situations. This was my reality, as it is for far too many others, especially those living in poverty. The instability of my childhood left a deep imprint, and as an adult, I sought a life full of safety, responsibility, and stability. My husband is a good man, and I believe fully in therapy and the power of prayer. Over time, I transitioned from surviving to thriving. I look back on my past with gratitude for the resilience it built in me, confident now that I can face anything.

I've long wanted to express meaning and my life in my art, but for years, I couldn't quite figure out how. I paint vibrantly, inspired by the beauty and richness of the world, but I was searching for more behind it. When I enrolled in the Mastery Program, I hoped to find my artistic voice and purpose. While the program was helpful, I still left feeling like something was missing - until my recent trip to Italy.

The founders of the Mastery Program decided to have this year's graduation in Italy, and I was lucky enough to snag one of the few spots for the retreat. I went, expecting to have fun, but I had no idea how transformative it would be. While there, I connected deeply with other women, sharing stories of our challenges, our art, and what we were still trying to figure out. We were in this perfect bubble - openness, creativity, and shared experiences bonded us.

On one of the final evenings, during a conversation with a woman with whom I hadn't yet connected, I laughed as I told her about my winding journey. I shared that I've worked mostly in finance, but that I have a nearly finished Master's in Counseling, and a Master's in Education, only to have stopped teaching after a year. I also mentioned fostering two little boys for two years. She listened and then simply said, "You like a cause." The truth of it was so obvious, but I sat there, kind of stunned. She suggested I look for galleries that focus on causes, and instantly my wheels started spinning.

I already had a show lined up for November at a local coffee shop, where I planned to display my portfolio pieces. But suddenly, a new vision was forming. Before Italy, I'd had a dream about a goldfinch caught between an eagle and a hawk. The imagery felt significant, but I wasn't sure how to interpret it. While in Italy, I asked one of the program founders, who is gifted in dream interpretation, for insight. She explained that the goldfinch symbolized my spirit, and the birds of prey represented the dangers threatening my freedom. The fact that I watched it all through a window signified that I was on the threshold of something. I sort of hedged that I wasn't very interested in painting that scene, but then she said something that unlocked everything for me: "You don't have to paint the threat. Paint the overcoming."

Immediately, I saw it - goldfinches flying free across a canvas. When I later looked up the symbolism of goldfinches, I found they represent resilience, spiritual ascension, and healing. And just like that, I knew my story had come full circle.

Returning from Italy, everything started falling into place. I started painting the goldfinches, titled "Resilience," on the largest canvas I've ever used. It will be the centerpiece of my November show, which I've titled "Rise and Radiate." Half of the proceeds will go to The Dove Center, a local domestic violence shelter. My hope is that every person who walks through that shelter knows their own strength and resilience - that they, too, can rise and radiate.

Incredibly, as I looked through my other pieces, I realized they all spoke to this theme as well. Works I had already titled "Fortitude," "Becoming," "Unbound," and "Flourish" were all reflections of the same journey: moving from survival to thriving.

It has taken my whole life to come to this realization of my purpose, but now that I have, it feels as though it came all at once. I like a cause, and I will continue to use my art, which I desperately love to make, as a vehicle to give what I can to people and families in need, just as I was so often part of a family in need. God has used my story, my pain, and my joy to bring me here - to use my art to be a light in the world. I've tried other ventures, but they either drained me or sacrificed too much time and threatened to damage my relationships. This, however, is right. Now it's time to paint in faith, and let God do the rest.

Have you ever had an epiphany that changed the course of your life?

"Resilience" 24"x36"