It all started my sophomore year in college when my Painting I professor assigned us to paint a controversial issue for our final project. I knew immediately that I wanted my painting to be Prolife. More specifically, I wanted it to be “loving” and “merciful”. I thought the painting would be easy. To my surprise, the whole Fall semester flew by and I was so stumped. With 18 credit hours of finals to study for, along with this painting to complete, I ran outside my dorm feeling desperate. I remember being on the phone with my Mom with overwhelmed tears in my eyes. 

After I hung up the phone, I sunk down on the edge of a beach chair, looked out on the waterfront (yes, my dorm was on a waterfront) and I began praying a Hail Mary for inspiration. The moment I said “Hail Mary”, in a short flash, as I looked out on the water, I saw rows upon rows of white crosses with white roses on each cross. Jesus went one by one to each cross pulling babies into heaven with Him. From that moment, I knew exactly what I God wanted me to paint. 

God taught me an important lesson that semester. My prideful self had me think the concept of the painting would be “so easy” that I never even thought about inviting God in the creative process. The moment I sincerely prayed a simple prayer for help, God immediately blessed me with an idea. What a grace! My lesson was and is to always include God in my everyday task whether it be painting a canvas or cleaning a toilet. Depending on God makes every task in life easier.

The final composition shows the earth in the background. From the earth, are rows upon rows of crosses. Each cross has a white rose in the center. Hidden in the petals of each rose are babies of different developmental stages. Jesus goes to each cross and one-by-one pulls the babies towards Himself to bring them into Heaven. At Jesus’ touch, the white roses turn red to show His love, mercy and forgiveness. The painting’s title is The Forsaken Found based on Psalms 27:10 “Even if my father and mother forsake me, the LORD will take me in.” When we feel forsaken on this earth no matter what the situation, Jesus Christ is always there to bring new life. 

To be honest, after completing the Forsaken Found, I did not truly appreciate its value. I ended up painting it in three days and after receiving an “A” for my final, I was ready to just throw the painting in the closet.  My professor, my sister and my Mom thought differently… 

My professor organized for my painting to be displayed in the library art gallery on campus for the following semester. I had a mixture of emotions about it, on one hand I was honored that my piece was being displayed, but on the other hand I battled feelings of insecurity. I didn’t appreciate the unrealistic style and I wasn’t the strongest yet when it came to defending the Pro-life movement. 

As the week went by, I kept running into students who asked if I was an artist. They then would tell me that they wrote a paper on my painting. At that time, all university students were required to take an art appreciation course in order to graduate.  During the course, students were required to study an art piece and write a very thorough paper on their observations. Of course, like the “good college students they were” most procrastinated until the week or day before this paper was due. To the procrastinators dismay, the Main Art gallery was shutdown and students were being directed to the very small library gallery were my painting was being displayed for the week. When you walked into the gallery my painting was the largest art piece on the wall. Besides that my painting was surrounded by small black and white art pieces. The monumental and colorful presence of the Forsaken Found may have been why many students decided to write their paper on my painting.

Once the week finished, I went to pick up the Forsaken Found from the library. It was a very common site to see me to walking around campus with a large canvas. As I passed the campus Subway, a table full of Fraternity brothers stopped me. I was friends or at least acquainted with most sitting at the table. They poked at me saying that of all the paintings they’ve seen of mine this painting was their favorite. My timid self questioned back “Are you sure?” and they insisted it was their favorite and they wanted to know the story behind it. Feeling even more shy I questioned, “Are you sure…?” again. Internally, I was battling the fact that most sitting at the table were prochoice on the abortion issue. Sure enough, they insisted again that I tell them about the painting. So I did what they asked and I shared the detailed meaning behind the painting. Once I finished, these self-confident and curious men were silent. While they were in a stunned state I snuck away. To this day, I like to think that The Forsaken Found made them rethink their position on Respect Life issues. 

Before I could walk much farther a couple FOCUS missionaries on campus stopped me on the library lawn. As I explained the painting to them, a male student walked up and “Asked me is this your painting!?. While I didn’t know this student personally, he had drawn my attention throughout the year because of his long hair and his refusal to wear shoes. In an enthusiastic tone, he asked me not to tell him about the painting. He said he had spent 3 hours studying The Forsaken Found in order write his art paper. To my amazement, he explained the painting to me exactly how God intended it to be… to be continued.

Even after these encounters on campus my stubborn self was still ready to “throw the painting in the closet”. Thank God my sister thought differently. One weekend I went home to support a local pregnancy center walk/run fundraiser. The Forsaken Found happened to be in the back seat of my car. My sister insisted I share the painting with people at the check-in pavilion where everyone was gathering. My embarrassed self resisted but my sister did not care and snagged The Forsaken Found out of my car to share. The moment we arrived at the pavilion the large painting drew attention. Everyone we shared the painting with was touched. One encounter impressed me forever. 

This woman kept questioning me if I was going to make prints of this painting when I sheepishly shrugged my shoulders she insisted that I do. She then opened up to me and pointed over to a boy in the crowd of people. She told me “you see that boy over there. You see him. That is my son. I got pregnant when I was teenager and I thought about having an abortion. And it hurts me to this day to know that I even thought about it because he is the joy of my life, the love of life.” She started crying. She urged me that I need to share this painting with more people. It was this testimony that finally opened my eyes that God wanted to use me as His instrument to reach out to people through this image.

Even though I realized God wanted me to share this image, I was still very shy. This is where my Mom comes in. My Mom was my rock when it came to supporting me as an artist. She encouraged me, she pushed me out of my comfort zones, she organized and scheduled opportunities for me to share my art and she happened to be my best critic when critiquing my paintings. It is because of the prayerful support of my Mom that I overcame my anxieties of sharing my art and my fears of speaking in front of crowds of people. 

I am very thankful to my professor, my sister and my Mom because they all encouraged me to share The Forsaken Found. If it weren’t for them, I would have never realized my God-given vocation as an artist. Also, I more then likely would not have shared the Forsaken Found at the Florida State Respect Life Conference, at many churches, conferences, college campuses, brunches, and even to 3,000 people at the St. Augustine March for Life. When I overcame my weakness of sharing my God-given talent with others, hundreds of individuals opened up to share their personal testimonies. More specifically, The Forsaken Found painting has been a source of healing for both men and women who have suffered the loss of children through abortion, miscarriage and stillbirth.