Milk and Honey Day 31: Why This Collection Isn't About Arrival

That's something I don't think we talk about very often.

Most people can point to some area of life that hasn't unfolded the way they expected. Sometimes it's a relationship. Sometimes it's health. Sometimes it's financial stability, a career, a dream, or a future that seemed certain until it wasn't. Whatever the details, there is often a gap between the life we imagined and the life we're actually living.

That's the space I've been thinking about while creating this collection.

Most of us spend far more time in that middle ground than we do at the destination. We plant seeds long before we see fruit, tend vineyards long before we enjoy the wine, and make decisions every day without knowing exactly where they will lead. That is really the heart of this collection.. Rivers disappear around bends. Paths continue beyond the edge of the canvas. Wheat ripens slowly. None of them arrive all at once.

Perhaps that's why landscapes resonate with so many people. They leave room for us to find our own story inside them. Someone standing in front of a river may see peace. Someone else may see change. One person may see hope, while another sees the reminder that there is still more ahead. The painting doesn't need to provide all the answers because the viewer brings part of the story with them.

If I had waited until every problem was solved, every prayer answered, and every dream fulfilled, these paintings probably would never exist. They’re created while life remains uncertain, while questions still outnumbered answers, and while I am, learning to trust the process both on the canvas and in my own life.That uncertainty is part of the work itself.

The more I study Scripture, the more I notice that God rarely seems interested in rushing people toward the ending. Abraham waited. Joseph waited. David waited. The Israelites waited. Again and again, the stories we admire most include long stretches where very little appears to be happening at all. Yet those seasons were not wasted. They were part of the story.

Milk and Honey may be inspired by a vision of the Promised Land, but it isn't really a collection about arrival. It's a collection about learning to live faithfully in the space between promise and fulfillment. It's about discovering that hope still has value before the harvest arrives and that God's faithfulness is present in the middle of the journey, not only at the end.

Maybe that's why these paintings matter to me, and perhaps why they resonate with other people as well. Very few of us are living inside a finished story. Most of us are still becoming, still growing, still waiting for some things and grieving others. The paintings don't offer a shortcut through that reality, but they do offer a reminder that the story is not over yet.