Doing Justice to the Abide Collection

When I sit with the larger works in my Abide collection, I feel the weight of responsibility to paint them as faithfully as I can. Not perfectly — because perfection isn’t the goal — but faithfully. I want them to carry the heart behind them with honesty, even if my skill level can only take them so far.

One canvas, in particular, has been my meditation on how Christ has carried me. For much of my life, I didn’t realize He was there — watching, protecting, and pursuing me, even when I felt forgotten. This painting is my way of acknowledging that truth: He was with me from the very beginning, even when I didn’t know it.

Another piece in this series came out of worship. There are moments in prayer and song when it feels as if words fall short, and all I can do is lift my heart and be fully present with Him. I wanted to capture that posture visually — to paint what it feels like to be immersed in praise, when colour and light say what language cannot.

Abiding as a Posture

The word abide means more than just “to remain.” It’s a way of being with Christ — resting in Him, depending on Him, and finding strength in His presence. That’s why I’ve been taking my time with this collection. It isn’t about finishing quickly, but about letting the process itself be an act of abiding.

Over the summer, I revisited Andrew Murray’s Divine Healing and Abide. Both left a deep imprint on me, especially Murray’s gentle insistence that healing, peace, and life flow from a place of trust and surrender. His words reminded me that abiding is not passive — it’s active trust. It’s the willingness to let God shape not just the outcome, but also the journey itself.

Doing Justice, Not Rushing

To do justice to these works is to resist my own impulse to rush. I want to be faithful to the story they’re telling — stories of being carried, stories of worship, stories of abiding when life feels uncertain.

The truth is, abiding in Christ requires humility. It asks us to slow down, to remember that He is the vine and we are only branches (John 15:4–5). Apart from Him, we can do nothing. But in Him, even a painting in progress can be a prayer.

A Word for You

Maybe you’re in a season where you feel pressured to produce, to solve, or to move faster than your soul is ready. Can I remind you — you don’t have to rush? Abiding means resting in the One who already holds it all.

Take your time. Let the Spirit lead the process.
Do justice to what’s before you — not by striving, but by abiding.

“Abide in me, and I in you.” — John 15:4

Thank you, as always, for following along on this journey. Your presence here is never taken for granted. If you ever want to connect, ask questions, or simply share what God is doing in your life, know that this space is always open. And if you need prayer, please reach out.

Warmly in Him,
Martina