I first saw the Prince of Peace image as a little girl, seeing someone on TV who was about my age, and she was showing her painting of Jesus. I now know that that was on the Oprah Winfrey show. I was watching it at my grandmother’s. I’m also an artist, and my mom’s an artist, so I grew up in that sort of environment of art appreciation, learning to paint and draw at an early age. So when I saw this other little girl on TV who was so talented, it made me very excited. It made me realize that anything was possible, even for really young children.

Appreciating art history, and growing up in the art environment with a lot of family in the Roman Catholic belief, I was exposed to a lot of liturgical artwork — of angels, of Jesus, of Mary — and all of it was beautiful. But even as a little girl, I knew there was something different about the Prince of Peace painting. There was a feeling of close connection that I didn’t necessarily feel with the other paintings of Jesus I had encountered. With those, there was almost a feeling of distance, like He was untouchable. And that was not the Jesus I knew as a child. I knew Jesus on a much more personal level. To see, at that age, a painting that depicted Jesus more the way I saw Him — and to know there was a little girl my age who also experienced that — was incredible.

Years later, my grandmother was gifted a print of the Prince of Peace, and she hung it in her home. It was always a very special centerpiece. The Prince of Peace painting was something I never let go of, even into adulthood. And then when I moved to Austin, Texas, I had no idea that the painting I’d seen since I was a child was only an hour away, in Marble Falls. I’m a filmmaker, and I had moved to Austin specifically because I felt God was calling me here. I didn’t have anyone here. I didn’t have a job lined up. I was experiencing different hardships in life at that time, and it just felt like the whole world was pulling out from under my feet.

To me, it didn’t really make sense to move to Austin. But He made everything available. He made housing available. He started connecting me with a church. Even after I was here, though, the hardships continued. I was here only a week, and two of my family members passed away. And I said, “God, You told me to come here to Austin. I don’t understand why You’re not meeting me here. I feel like You sent me out on this voyage and left me floating.”

I came to the gallery. I was particularly connected to the missing years and dreams. I think it’s a precious thing to be able to see Jesus in His early years — having all of this vast knowledge of past, present, and future, the world around Him, just as a teenager. That’s a part of His life none of us really consider. And to know that He was a human being — words can’t communicate it. Art itself is storytelling. Each painting tells a story. Jesus chose to teach through stories.

I felt Jesus’s presence when I came into the gallery. In that moment, I saw Him. I knew what it looked like, and I knew it felt personal, but I did not realize how much it would impact me. I don’t idolize the painting, but I do feel like Jesus’s presence follows it. I’m asking, “Where are You?” And then — You’re here. Shortly after that, doors started opening up to jobs. Healing started taking place in the areas of my life where I’d been experiencing hardship. Then some other hardships came up, but in the midst of it, I saw Him, and I realized: You are here, and You have met me here.

I learned that I was God’s beloved through a lot of trial and error. I never doubted His power and His grace, but something that took me a long time to learn is that I could not earn His love. To see the ways in which He’s shown His love to me, even in the hardships — the way He’s come through — was a really incredible experience. I feel like I would not have seen His grace and understood His love to the fullness had I not experienced those hardships.