I should be doing a lot of things right now outside of writing this blog. In fact, I should be writing an essay and a newspaper article, doing laundry, and possibly checking into some medicine for this allergy problem I’m having right now.
But you know what, sometimes you get tired of writing essays and your words become a little less sophisticated. Sometimes you just need to step away for a while and focus on something else. So, alas…welcome to today’s blog.
Over the weekend, I threw caution to the wind and got a tattoo. And when I say I threw it to the wind, I mean it at the deepest possible level. I googled tattoo shops in the area and picked one with a pretty good rating. I didn’t do any research on them. I just went with it.
Luckily for me, the shop ended up being clean enough to be a doctor’s office. Quite frankly, it was the nicest tattoo shop I have ever seen or been in. From the moment I walked in the door, I knew that I was in good hands.
My tattoo is not unique to me, nor is it large and intricate. While I do plan on getting additional tattoos, this one was perfect to be my first. It is a small, simple cross on my right wrist.
Anyway, back to my analogy about being in good hands at the tattoo parlor.
I didn’t know the people who worked there. I didn’t know their backgrounds or their favorite colors or why they have the tattoos and piercings that they have. But I knew one thing: I wanted what they had. I wanted a tattoo, and I wanted it from them.
They literally wore their passion on their sleeves.
Tattoos are a visual example of the things that are important to us. It is only fitting that I have a tattoo honoring the one thing that gives me life. My savior, my breath-giver.
Jesus died on a cross for my sins. In Matthew 16:24, Jesus commanded that those who want to follow him must deny themselves, pick up their cross, and carry it as they follow him.
I need to be reminded of that daily. I need to be reminded of my passion for Christ so that He does not become just a routine for me. I need a reminder not to please myself, but Christ. I need a reminder that I am in good hands and that I can trust my God.
So, for me, that reminder comes in the form of a tiny little cross on my wrist.
Just as those guys in the tattoo parlor wore their passion on their sleeves, so shall I. They were hilarious, bright, and talented guys. I could tell all of that from the second I walked into their shop.
Now it’s my turn to develop my passion and wear it on my sleeve, so that people might see what I have and say, “I want what she has to offer.”
What I have to offer is simply the Gospel.