’Gethsemane: He Lit the Path’

Considering Good Friday, the tenderness and hope amidst the heaviness is so real. I used to think that once I made it through my “Gethsemane moments”—those nights of pleading, wrestling, surrender—the hardest part would be over. But I’m realizing that even after the prayers and depths of suffering, the pain doesn’t always lift. Sometimes, like Christ, we walk straight from the garden into the cross. And it’s heavy. It’s vulnerable. It’s confusing.

Tamara Runia’s words hit me hard— how Christ didn’t just suffer for us, He suffers with us. That changes everything. Because when I’m still hurting, still waiting, still carrying things I thought would be resolved by now, I remember that He knows all too well this feeling.
And unlike how I want to escape, He stayed with the pain. He didn’t run from it. And somehow, that gives me permission to stay with mine too—to not rush through it or numb it, but to let it be holy. Because He’s in it. That love, that presence, that quiet companionship—it’s real. And it’s holding me even here.

Medium | Oil on linen

Features | 5.2×7.2″ in 10×14″ Custom Frame

Artist’s Note

This is the miracle of Good Friday: Love didn’t run. Love remained. And because He stayed in it, I can too.