The Divine Power of Art: How Painting Saved a Life

We just bought a brand new warehouse and are hosting our very first in-person workshop at this location. We have all new easels, palettes, and even a Nespresso machine. Snacks are in a basket and creamer in the fridge. We’re ready for our guests to arrive and learn all about light and how to use it to tell their story.

This workshop is a more advanced oil workshop, not for beginners. I’m excited and nervous all at once.

The artists begin arriving, and there are warm hugs all around. I don’t know most of them personally, but they all know me because they’re Mastery Program students. Around my demonstration easel, I’ve displayed several large paintings in various stages of progress to show how I render light. One of them is of a single turtle rising up from a cluster of marigolds, illuminated by a radiant beam streaming from above.

I notice a woman standing still before it, completely transfixed. Her eyes are locked on the painting, unmoving for several minutes.

From Darkness to Light

When I finally approach her, she introduces herself as Stephanie. She seems nervous and uneasy, like she needs space to settle into the room and what the next few days might bring. Throughout the workshop, she paints slowly and carefully, methodically following every instruction. Her painting depicts a woman in a flowing dress gazing across the water toward a sunrise that lights her path and makes the surface shimmer. Stephanie keeps mostly to herself, quiet but intent.

By the final day, she starts to open up, chatting with others and seeming more at peace with her progress. During our group critiques, she offers thoughtful, heartfelt compliments to her peers. As I help her refine her final layer of oil, she begins to tell me her story.

“I got addicted to pain meds 20 years ago, and it set me on a path of using for many years. I was a mess, in and out of rehab, and I nearly died multiple times. Once I overdosed. I think I might have died, but a guy from rehab Narcanned me twice in the leg and brought me back. That’s when I decided I had to get clean. After 20 years of addiction, I finally gave up the drugs, but the darkness still stayed with me.”

Rising From the Depths

I’m moved by her openness and courage. I can see now how her painting is a story of rebirth, a path toward light.

“Even after I got sober,” she continues, “the darkness never left. I was depressed, hopeless, and ashamed. I had nothing to live for, and suicidal thoughts were constant. I decided to try therapy for six months, and if nothing changed by then, I’d end my life.”

I listen closely, realizing she’s probably been carrying this for days, waiting for the right moment to share.

“A few months into therapy, I found the Mastery Program. I thought, ‘What the hell, I’ll try it.’ Within weeks, I could feel something shifting. As I painted, I began to feel alive again. After a few months, I stopped therapy and kept creating. The suicidal thoughts disappeared. I had hope again. I saw that my life had purpose—art gave it meaning.”

“Wow, Stephanie,” I say. “I’m so glad you found the Mastery Program—that art saved your life. It gave you something to live for.”

She nods, eyes glistening.

“It’s not just that. I’ve never felt like I belonged anywhere. But halfway through Part 1, my mom got really sick. I thought I was going to lose her, the one person who truly cared for me. Then I got flowers from the Milan Art Institute with a note saying you were all praying for her recovery. I couldn’t believe it. An online school actually cared. That note meant everything. My mom pulled through, and I knew I’d found my people—my community. I finally belonged.”

Grace and Resilience

We both wipe tears, grateful beyond words. I feel deeply thankful for this work—for the school, for art, for the divine purpose that connects us all.

The workshop ends with hugs and promises to meet again. Stephanie tells me she loves the turtle painting and can’t wait to see it finished.

A few months later, she messages me on Instagram asking the price of the painting. I’m touched and surprised she’s thinking of buying it.

Just days before the Milan Art Experience she was attending, our gallery director, Jock, tells me that Stephanie purchased the painting. I’m overjoyed.

At the conference, we talk more. She shares what the painting meant to her and later sends me this note:

“I walked through the front door of the Milan workshop. To my left, a single easel glowed under the light. The moment I saw the painting, electricity flowed through me. Everything suddenly snapped into place. I knew I was forever changed by what I’d just seen. I wanted to fall to my knees, but instead, I stood there—undone.

“In a millisecond, everything I learned in the Mastery Program became clear. I saw depth, light, shadow, meaning, and… promise. I saw why people cry in galleries. And then I saw years of my own pain and shame fall away. The sea turtle before me—battered but alive, scarred yet rising toward the light—was me. It was grace, resiliency, redemption. It was my will to live another day and to leave something beautiful behind.”

Divine Purpose

Stephanie’s story is living proof of the power of art—the power to heal, to restore, to resurrect a soul from decades of darkness. It’s this very power that called me to be an artist in the first place.

That turtle rising from deep waters toward the light is Stephanie, it’s me, and it’s you. We are all being lifted by the same unseen current of grace.

Because in the end, the mystery isn’t the art itself, but the power behind it—the One who breathes life into it. The One who loves us, draws us to Himself, and reminds us that we matter. That we belong. That our lives carry divine significance.

With all my heart, I’ve always wanted my art to awaken destiny—to reach into someone’s soul and whisper that they are worthy of love. That their life counts. That they are here for a higher purpose.

When art becomes a vessel for that truth, heaven touches earth.

And through every brushstroke, we become living stones of transformation, each of us rising toward the light.

How has art been a source of light in your life?

Share your story in the comments below!