In March, I announced to my studio newsletter friends that I’d begun working on my first collection. In the email I said,

“I'm not sure exactly how it will unfold. Visually, there will be many, many flowers. But behind those flowers are things you won't be able to see: exploration, bravery, play, and trust. My prayer is that the personal growth I inevitably will experience in the process of creating these pieces will spill over to you. To encourage and bless you, and to add beauty to your home and to your life.”

Sometimes we get what we ask for. My prayer for personal growth was met with uncertainty, upended plans, and the loss of another baby. We buried Hope Collette along with her brother, Jude Gerard, and sibling, Sarah Job, on Mother’s Day. Needless to say, it was bittersweet.

But the Lord is a storyteller.

I began painting irises simply because I was captivated by their extravagant details. Later, I looked into their meaning. Traditionally, iris flowers have been a symbol for Our Lady of Sorrows, because of their sharp, dagger-like leaves. In Luke 2:34-35, Simeon tells Mary that her son is destined for great and wondrous things, and that “a sword will pierce [her] own soul too.”

Well…shoot.

How amazing is it that this young girl, when faced with heavy, awe-some news, continued on—resolute and humble—to raise the Son of God? And what does that mean for me? When I look back on the past few years and the sorrow I’ve experienced, I wonder, “If I had known, would I have said ‘yes’ anyway?” Only by God’s grace.

I don’t know the details of the hardships that await me, but I (we) have the opportunity each day to forge ahead, trusting in God’s plan for me and for my *future* children. And I think hope, a fruit of trust, comes through in these paintings.