Why Tattoos

My Dad still connects tattoos with prison. I'm sure there are others that might do the same or, at the very least, think that a tattoo is wasteful, distasteful, or unprofessional. I admit that there are always stupid reasons for doing things. Anything really. A guy helps the homeless people in his area... because he had to have community service hours. A girl adopts a baby... because she's lonely. Someone gets a tattoo... because they were drunk one night. There are many possible things that bad reasons can lead to. For those of you who wonder about my motives, you can find them here. I try not to make decisions lightly, so if you think I'm just another person going along with a fad, then you haven't taken the time to know who I am.

It started a few years ago. My sister had mentioned that we should get a tattoo together right before I went off to Papua New Guinea. I'd thought of possibly getting a tattoo a few times before, but couldn't come to something I'd like on me forever. When she offered, we were kinda on the way to the airport and thus, no time (along with me not knowing what I would get anyway). While over in PNG, I thought through what might be cool to have and what means something to me. One thing to me can either mean endless possibilities or possibly just mean the one thing. If I'm going to put ink into my skin, its going to mean quite a bit. So I browsed and thought I came up with a few things. A verse or a compass, or perhaps a cross.

 I wasn't set on one thing for sure until August 29th (2014). I'd been frustrated with not knowing what's next, had been having a few family issues, and would get very down (I'm talking "sad", not "dancing"). After everything seemed hopeless, one thing still shined through. It wasn't my self-esteem or my friends and family. It wasn't music or my mountains or my dog or a possible adventure. Nothing but my God would do. Even with God, I had frustrations. Questions not yet answered as to why I still didn't have a direction. Through even these annoyances, I knew that He knew better. I'd had previous experiences that proved (in my mind, heart, and soul) that He was there and was more consistent than anything else I'd encountered (and anything I would come across in this life). If He wanted life to continue, there must be a reason and I would find out why.

I drew a cross on my arm at that instant. For all the weight that this symbol represents for my life, the main reason I drew it in those moments was so I could see it and remember. It was there because the only One I know who can truly push the darkness away is the One who conquered the cross, death, and sin. I'd felt that there was a darkness that threatened to consume my being and who I am. And should I be consumed by it, I would surely be lost in this life. I found the core of who I am: a child of God. Everything else that defines me is either a perk or a flaw. The perks are fun and can stay, while the flaws will be dealt with asap. In those moments, all was striped away except the one thing that can keep me steady: my God.

Thus, I am one that needs a reminder. In seeing this symbol, I remember who I live for and so my reactions to situations change from the self-centered view of Michelle to the bigger picture of what is not seen and eternal. I have the option of drawing it on me each day, but should I ever get to a point where I falter in my faith, I want to be ever aware of my betrayal and thus turn back around. I also realize that this symbol will be visible to others. Free accountability and possible evangelism. However, I'm doing this not because of others.

I have nothing to hide. So why hide Who I belong to? No longer will I have the option of silently drifting into the shadows. No wasting life or hiding. Let me live out loud in love and truth.

"The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not mastered it." (John 1:5) I am His and will glorify His name, because He is constantly saving my life. May I be love and truth to others, and may I never be ashamed, but be bold in shining His light.

It was May 7th that my sister and I went to get our tattoos. I got my simple cross and my compass. The cross for what has already been explained. The compass (with a fleur de-lis and two stars to the north east) refers to many things, but has a verse attached to it. Isaiah 30:21 says, "Whether you turn to the right or to the left, you will hear a voice behind you saying, 'This is the way; walk in it.'" I do like pirates' freedom and Peter Pan's adventures (the two stars and compass). I love where I grew up and enjoy gazing into the heavens (north east and stars). I like Uncle Iroh from Avatar: The Last Airbender and how he is a part of the White Lotus (fleur de-lis which also represents perfection, light, and life). But ultimately, I know that I crave God's guidance. His love is wider than the East is from the West (which never ends). He wants me to listen to His whispers and know He's always with me.  I so quickly forget, but He is there to remind me.

I wrote most of this blog post quite a while ago. Perhaps even a year or two ago. I've been having a hard time lately. I'd been getting frustrated and began to despair. God led me to this again, and as I read, I remembered why I have hope. I remembered that God has not left me, but is always here. My heart has been revived and lifted. Praise God! He knows what I need. All of this, from tattoos... or rather, from God.