The Coming Glory

Prayers from the Easel

The Coming Glory

This painting carries for me a sense of heavenly anointing—an invitation that seems to rise from the heart of the Father Himself.

There is a gentle whisper within the spirit, a still small voice that speaks quietly yet clearly: Come, my beloved one.Forsake not your confidence, for it carries great reward. Fear not, for I have redeemed you. I have called you by name. Within this garden of peace and comfort, God calls us deeper into His love. His presence surrounds the heart like a song—softly drawing us closer through the gentle work of the Holy Spirit.

As we gaze into the painting, it feels almost as though we are being invited into the garden itself. There is a quiet knowing here—an inward recognition that this is the way. The invitation is tender and open to all who are weary and burdened: Come and drink of the living waters,that you may thirst no more.

Christ stands at the door of the human heart, patiently waiting. He never forces His love. Instead, He waits for us to open the door and invite Him in. This invitation is fulfilled through the Son of God—Yeshua, the Messiah—whose love continually calls us into a deeper experience of divine grace. Day by day we discover more of this agape love, a love that grows ever deeper and more beautiful as we walk with Him.

Our inner awareness of God becomes like an ancient love song—something deeply familiar, resonating within our spirits. His fragrance draws us closer until we awaken, as though rising into the freshness of a new spring morning. There is within this painting a sense of expectancy—a longing for the promise spoken throughout Scripture:

The Coming Glory.

It is the anticipation of the King’s return and the outpouring of His Spirit upon the earth. Because of Christ, the veil of darkness has been broken. We awaken to the light of His glory and begin to understand who we truly are—created to know Him and to love Him fully.

This garden scene reflects that prophetic hope. In the painting, the seasons are blended together—spring and autumn sharing the same space. Blossoms of new life grow alongside the golden leaves of maturity. This harmony of seasons symbolizes the fullness of God’s timing.

The garden itself carries the fragrance of Eden.

Honeysuckle, cherry blossoms, and lilies fill the air with a sweetness that seems almost sacred—like incense rising from the prayers of Christ. Their perfume reminds us that divine love leaves its imprint upon those who encounter it.

Within the scene are quiet symbols of spiritual life. A robin waits faithfully in the branches, reflecting the watchfulness of believers who anticipate the return of Christ. A bluebird represents the waiting Bridegroom, patiently preparing for His purified bride.

The birdbath becomes a place of refreshment—living water freely offered to those who thirst.

Butterflies appear as symbols of transformation, reminding us that every believer undergoes a spiritual metamorphosis as new life unfolds within us.

And even the robin drawing a worm from the depths of the earth carries meaning: a reminder that no place is too dark for the redeeming love of Christ to reach those who are lost. We are called to be fishers of men, carrying the light of His love into the darkest places. Each of us becomes part of this living story—God’s workmanship, His poetic love letter to the world. As the Bride of Christ, we wait in hope, longing for the moment when heaven and earth are fully united. Maranatha. Come, Lord Jesus.

The Coming Glory reminds us that God’s promises are true. His faithfulness sustains our hope, and His love continues to draw us closer into union with Him.

Like a gentle wind moving through the garden, the Father’s voice still whispers to the human heart:

Come closer.

And so we wait with joy and anticipation—until heaven and earth meet,and His glory fills all things.

— Suzanne Fernandez

Fine art prints and select original works available through Suzanne's online gallery

View collection on Fine Art America   https://fineartamerica.com/profiles/suzanne-mfernandez