@lauramakabresku / lauramakabresku.tumblr.com
This is the tale of a soul keeping vigil beneath the cross where God suffers. In its hands, a white bowl cradles every crimson drop falling from His wounds. And with those sacred drops, it sprinkles other souls, the weary earth, the slumbering world. Do you see what happens then? Even where all has long since perished, where a thick shroud of snow lies heavy — life stirs, awakens, and blooms anew.
This is the tale of a soul keeping vigil beneath the cross where God suffers. In its hands, a white bowl cradles every crimson drop falling from His wounds. And with those sacred drops, it sprinkles other souls, the weary earth, the slumbering world. Do you see what happens then? Even where all has long since perished, where a thick shroud of snow lies heavy — life stirs, awakens, and blooms anew.
This is the tale of a soul keeping vigil beneath the cross where God suffers. In its hands, a white bowl cradles every crimson drop falling from His wounds. And with those sacred drops, it sprinkles other souls, the weary earth, the slumbering world. Do you see what happens then? Even where all has long since perished, where a thick shroud of snow lies heavy — life stirs, awakens, and blooms anew.
This is the tale of a soul keeping vigil beneath the cross where God suffers. In its hands, a white bowl cradles every crimson drop falling from His wounds. And with those sacred drops, it sprinkles other souls, the weary earth, the slumbering world. Do you see what happens then? Even where all has long since perished, where a thick shroud of snow lies heavy — life stirs, awakens, and blooms anew.
There is someone who watches over you. In His presence, your loneliness blooms like a garden. Close your eyes and quiet your soul — then you will hear the beating of His Heart.
The soul keeps vigil with God in Gethsemane’s winter garden — or is it He who watches over her?
Wind and snow carve wounds upon trembling bodies, curled in fear, shivering in the night.
Yet, in closeness, comfort unfolds.
Rider of Hope
The Kiss of the Angel of Hope
An image I created with a particular person in mind — a woman who, a few years ago, suddenly became paralyzed and lost the ability to walk. She shared with me her deep love for horses. That was when an image formed in my heart: an angel in the form of a white winged horse placing a kiss upon her head. The image is accompanied by words of comfort:
"Do not be sad, dear soul. Even if your body remains ill and motionless, I will carry you on my back so that you may bring the flame of hope, ignited by God in your heart, to the world. You will walk again—more than that, from now on, you will gallop in spirit and in Truth. Fear nothing."
Laura Makabresku, 2025
Laura Makabresku, 2025
The Boy wearing a crown of thorns leads a soul through a suffering world shrouded in darkness, so it may carry the flame of hope to other souls and speak of His Heart, overflowing with Love.
Riders of Eucharistic Love
Riders of Hope
(Above the tempestuous sea of human sorrow, pain, and solitude, someone carries a flame of Hope.)
The Whisper of the Holy Spirit
The Flame of Contemplation