Some griefs don’t come with caskets or funerals. Some come quietly — in the absence of what should have been present. My father didn’t die, but his absence shaped me just the same. Divorce, distance, and emotional silence left spaces in my heart I couldn’t name as a child. I just felt... unseen.

For a long time, I carried that unseen ache into every morning. Even as an adult, I wondered: Why do I feel so heavy? Why does joy feel so far away?🤔

But morning began to come — not in blinding brightness, but in soft glimmers. Through painting, through prayer, through safe conversations and God’s endless mercy, I began to feel light again. And with that light came joy. Not the loud, laughing kind at first — but the sacred kind. The kind that knows what sorrow costs and dares to rise anyway.

That’s what “Wings of Resolve” became to me. A declaration on canvas. Wings lifting from a once-heavy soul. Not naive, but brave. Not untouched by grief, but transformed by it.

God didn’t replace my sorrow. He resurrected something within it. He let joy grow out of what was broken.

📖 “Those who sow in tears shall reap in joy.” — Psalm 126:5 (NKJV)

📖 “The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart, and saves such as have a contrite spirit.” — Psalm 34:18 (NKJV)

This joy is not performative. It is real. It is tender. And it belongs to you, too.