Prepared for You | The Story Behind June's Holy Muse Mail Letter
I was so close to sending a completely different painting this month.
And honestly? I almost talked myself into it.
Before I even picked up a brush I didn't love the concept. It felt stiff. Or maybe false is a better word. It looked like it was supposed to be a Bible scene, the kind where you squint at it and think which story is this supposed to be? And I knew that would bother people. I knew they'd spend more time trying to figure out the reference than actually feeling anything.
But that wasn't even the worst part.
I painted it poorly.
When you're not into something it shows. There was nothing leading the eye, no interesting lighting, and way too much rainbow pastel blah. My daughters told me they liked it. They were being kind and I knew it. I stood there looking at it with a sickening feeling, the one that tells you this isn't the thing.
I gave it a day. Came back the next morning hoping fresh eyes would fix something.
Still dread.
I cannot give away a painting I dislike. If I can't fix it I restart. So I set it aside and sat with a blank canvas and one question:
How do I make a scene with Jesus and strawberries that actually feels like me?
Here's the thing about strawberries.
They feel like summer to me. That's why they were in the original concept: I wanted something picnic-like. Casual. Happy. The kind of scene where you want to feel like you are in it.
And then a memory surfaced. Going strawberry picking as a kid. The low rows, the red hiding under leaves, the ones that were almost too ripe and tasted like pure sun.
Wouldn't that be fun to do with Him?
The thought arrived so simply it made me smile. Not a theological statement. Just, wouldn't it though? To be in a garden on a summer morning, unhurried, picking strawberries together?
So I painted that instead.
Jesus bent over the rows. His hands in the dirt. The basket filling. Light coming down soft and warm on the whole scene (lighting lately is important to me).
No Bible story to identify. No confusion about what's happening. Just Him. In a garden. Gathering the good things before she even arrived.
And then the verse I'd chosen weeks earlier landed completely differently.
"He brought me to the banqueting table and his banner over me is love."
— Song of Solomon 2:4
The first painting made it feel like an occasion. A ceremony. Something you had to dress for and earn your seat at.
The strawberry garden made it feel like a Tuesday morning in summer.
He brought me. He is the one doing the action. Not her. She didn't find the garden, plan the garden, or deserve the garden. He brought her. He was already there. Already filling the basket before she thought to ask.
The banqueting table isn't a grand hall. It's this. Unhurried abundance. The strawberries He picks because He thought of her before she thought of herself.
And His banner over all of it, the casual happiness, the summer warmth, the joy that shows up on an ordinary Tuesday is love.
I wrote this month's letter about standing in a hallway.
Hearing my four girls laughing on the other side of a door. Colored markers and no phones and that particular kind of laughter that comes from nowhere and means everything.
I stood there longer than they knew because I didn't want to miss it.
That's what June kept coming back to for me. Not chasing joy or earning it. Just staying in the hallway long enough to let it land.
"In Your presence there is fullness of joy."
— Psalm 16:11
Fullness. Not scraps. Not the leftover pieces after everyone else is taken care of.
He picks the strawberries before you know you're hungry. He puts the laughter on the other side of the door. He sets the table before you thought to ask.
You just have to stay long enough to receive it.
The painting I almost sent would have been fine.
My daughters liked it. It wasn't terrible (I honestly think it was). It would have arrived in mailboxes and people would have framed it and moved on.
But I would have known.
And I think she would have felt it too, that slight distance between something made out of obligation and something made with actual joy.
The painting I sent instead came from a childhood memory and a question that made me smile.
Wouldn't that be fun to do with Him?
I think it would.
I think it is.
- Karen
Prepared for You is the June 2026 Holy Muse Mail painting, an original acrylic art print mailed to subscribers alongside a prayerful letter and a watercolor scripture card every month.
Prints available in my Etsy shop. And if you'd like this kind of thing arriving in your mailbox every month, Holy Muse Mail was made for you.
Past Prints: https://www.etsy.com/shop/spottednest?ref=seller-platform-mcnav§ion_id=55932864
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