When the Finishing Touches Feel Hard

This week I’ve been deep in the finishing stages of my Abide paintings — that stage that’s supposed to feel peaceful, but usually doesn’t. It’s where I start second-guessing myself, overthinking every brushstroke, and worrying that I’ll ruin what’s already working. It’s always been the hardest part for me — the part where I constantly have to remind myself to stop striving and start trusting.

Author

Martina Heinelt
October 31, 2025

On Tuesday, Autumn broke her toe at gymnastics (a first for us), which sent everything into a bit of a spin. Thankfully, she’s healing quickly — walking on her own again as of yesterday!

Meanwhile, I’ve been working on the Abide paintings — though “working” might be a generous word some days. I’m at that stage where I can feel what I want them to become, but I can’t quite get them there yet. The finishing touches are always the hardest part for me:

It’s the phase where peace feels the furthest away — where I second-guess every brushstroke and worry about ruining what’s already working.

It’s not serene or effortless; it’s emotionally messy and tense, and it stretches every ounce of patience I have:

But what I’ve noticed, again and again, is that afterward — when I step back, take a breath, and look at the piece the next day — it’s somehow more alive than it was before.

The work keeps growing even when I feel like I’m falling short.

And I think that’s how God works too. He brings things together quietly, often in ways we can’t see while we’re still in the middle of it. Maybe that’s what faith really is — trusting that God is still at work even when things don’t feel right or good, or even when everything feels wrong?

Because even when I can’t see how the details will resolve, God already knows. He’s shaping something deeper, something alive. The work — and the heart behind it — keeps growing in His hands:

“The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me; your steadfast love, O Lord, endures forever.” — Psalm 138:8

That promise has helped me remember that the outcome isn’t mine to control. My part is simply to keep showing up, one brushstroke at a time, and trust that He’s bringing it all together.

Thank you, as always, for being here — for reading, for praying, and for walking alongside me through art, motherhood & faith.

Warmly in Him,

Martina

P.S. A reminder to SAVE THE DATE! I’ll be at the Sheep River Library on November 21st with homemade cookies, coffee and teas — come say hello if you’re nearby: