When Strength Suddenly Gives Way: Has it ever happened to you?

You patiently endure one unexpected accident after another, facing each difficulty with dignity, composure, and peace. You keep going. You handle what needs to be handled. Perhaps others even admire how calm and strong you seem. And then, when you are finally alone, something inside you suddenly gives way. A wave of emotions comes all at once. You cry. You feel frustrated, overwhelmed, or exhausted. You may even wonder, Where did all of this come from? I thought I was doing fine.

Maybe you weren't failing. Maybe you were simply human. Sometimes we can hold ourselves together on the outside while something very different is happening within us. And perhaps those hidden places are not signs that we are broken, but places where God is inviting us to slow down, become still, and allow Him to transform us.

I was reminded of this while preparing to write today's blog post about "Soak: Room of Transformation" painting. What began as a painting intended to be a gift for my aunt unexpectedly became a reflection of my own heart—and a reminder that transformation often begins in places no one else can see.

Soak: Room of Transformation

This painting was originally intended as a gift for one of my aunts. She has high standards, and somewhere along the way, I became afraid that she might not like what I was making for her. I became frustrated with the process and found myself painting from a place of frustration rather than love.

Have you ever done that?

It was through this experience that the painting began to take on a meaning of its own.

Soak: Room of Transformation explores the biblical idea of metamorphosis—the quiet renewal of the mind that gradually becomes visible in a transformed life.

The painting imagines a hidden room where we can become still in God's presence. Like a cocoon, it is a place where transformation is already happening, even when it cannot yet be seen. Beneath the surface, something is moving. New songs are forming.

The deep indigo surrounding the image is, for me, the color of ink—a medium for stories, creativity and expression. Ink can create beauty, but it can also draw boundaries. Perhaps transformation does not always mean escaping our boundaries, but discovering the freedom that can emerge within them.

Two pansies stand within this hidden space. They may represent two people, two seasons, or two different conditions of the heart. Pansies bloom during seasons of transition and can withstand light frost, making them a quiet image of resilience, perseverance and beauty in difficult seasons.

Above them, a luminous butterfly emerges. It is not the beginning of the transformation, but a sign that something has already been happening in the hidden place. Perhaps that is where you are too.

Still waiting. Still becoming. Still soaking.

As you pause in this room, what is God quietly renewing in you?