‘Heavenward’, a visual meditation on following the narrow road.

‘HEAVENWARD’ - Acrylic paint on canvas.

Heavenward

When the road ahead fades from view, when the destination is unseen and the path grows narrow… and yet, something within us knows we are being led higher.

There is a kind of journey that doesn’t draw crowds or follow what is popular or easily understood. It moves quietly, steadily, upward. Guided by trust, not visibility. Heavenward was created from that place of reflection: a meditation on direction, eternity, and a life oriented toward God rather than the world.

This piece took shape during a season when following God felt less like certainty and more like surrender. I became acutely aware of how narrow and countercultural that path can feel, and how tempting it is to glance sideways for reassurance. Painting this was a gentle return of my gaze upward, a reminder to choose faith over familiarity, obedience over approval, and to keep moving forward even when the end of the road remains hidden.

As I worked, I kept returning to the idea of movement without full clarity. The path in the painting rises rather than stretches outward. It ascends through soft clouds brushed with rose, peach, lavender, and gold, colours that felt like peace rather than effort. I intentionally resisted defining where the path ends, because faith rarely arrives with a full view. It unfolds step by step, moment by moment. It makes me think of the scripture, “We fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal” (2 Corinthians 4:18). The unseen end of the path gestures toward eternity itself, real, promised, and yet beyond my earthly sight.

The narrowness, the upward direction, and the quiet atmosphere emerged naturally as I reflected on what it means to live with a heavenward focus in an earthbound world. The road does not widen for comfort or popularity. It does not bend to accommodate the noise of the crowd. This reflects a truth that the way that leads to life is not the one most people choose. The narrowness of the path speaks to faithfulness, to choosing God’s leading even when it feels solitary, misunderstood, or unseen. This is not the world’s way, and it was never meant to be.

And yet, there is joy here.

The traveler in the painting is not burdened or striving. She rides lightly, almost soaring, her dress and hair lifted by unseen wind. The bicycle became a symbol of freedom to me, as well as balance, trust and gentle momentum. She is moving forward with ease, not because the road is simple, but because she is carried by something greater than herself. This is the joy that comes from alignment, from walking in step with God’s will rather than pushing against it.

As the path climbs, the eye is drawn upward toward the heavens, a reminder that even when we cannot see the full road, we are still being guided. The sky glows in soft gradients of pink and violet, suggesting peace, promise, and divine presence. Another scripture I felt resonated here is “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways” (Isaiah 55:8–9). This sky high scene as a whole, reflects God’s higher wisdom and being immersed here as a state of being, with eyes fixed above the things of this world and on things of heaven. Going higher is not about escaping reality, but about allowing heavenly ways to shape how we walk through it. In love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, self control etc. All the fruits of the spirit.

There is forward motion in this piece, but no sense of urgency or strain. The ascent is steady, not rushed. It’s gentle and faithful, reflecting the perseverance of a life lived with eternal focus. The traveler does not look back, echoing Paul’s words: “Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal” (Philippians 3:13–14). This is not a hurried race, but a focused devotion, a life shaped by trust, peace, and eternal perspective.

Heavenward is ultimately an invitation. An invitation to lift our eyes, to soften our grip on what is temporary, and to consider where our direction is truly set. It asks whether our lives are shaped by what is visible and fleeting, or by the quiet, glorious promise of what is eternal.

The path may be narrow. The end may remain unseen.
But the fruit of this way, peace, freedom, joy, and a deep, abiding bliss is already present along the journey.

With love,

Kiara-Bella

The details

Finishing touches from my garden

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‘Fuchsia Lights’, Finding Stillness in My Secret Garden.