Adventure in Ink

Tattoos. My thoughts on this matter have developed over decades. I used to be someone who believed tattoos were wrong--even...sinful. But now, I have found them to be a source of great joy in my life.

Let me be clear. I believe the meaning behind a tattoo is paramount. I would not want something on my skin that carried an anti-God message, however subtly. I happen to also believe that tattoos are one way of telling the story of our lives--what matters to us. What, as Marie Kondo would say, "sparks joy."

Tattooing was banned in Leviticus because people were cutting their flesh in reverence to the dead--essentially participating in ancestral worship. I posit that honoring someone who is no longer here with a tattoo is completely different. When I get a tattoo, I am not engaging in self-inflicted pain. I am not carving my skin. I am enduring a small discomfort, at the hands of a professional, in order to display something beautiful that speaks both to my soul and of my soul. My tattoos are unique to me, and therefore a reflection of the individual God made me to be--the one whom He chose before the creation of the world, because He loves me (see Ephesians 1:4).

Because I have a close relationship with a God who loves me, I believe I can rely on the Holy Spirit to let me know if I am walking a path of destruction. Admittedly, I've done some destructive things in my 50 years on this planet--but tattooing would not be one of them.

I remember that one of the first things I learned about owls was that they represent wisdom. And so my first tattoo, of a turquoise owl, stands out as a "think first" image when I consider a tattoo I want to bear on my flesh. I want to use wisdom with such choices because they are permanent and should be contemplated and decided upon soberly.

Other tattoos represent huge facets of who I am--those things that are such a part of me I couldn't get away from them if I tried--being a teacher, being a writer, being a mom. My most recent piece was designed by my son, so it's precious to me in that regard--but also because it represents the beauty of my parents and the relationship I had with them. They reside in Heaven now, but every time I see the artwork I think of them. And I believe that's a very healthy thing.

Two of my tattoos feature Scriptures from Romans that have come to mean a great deal to me in my journey with Jesus--Romans 8:28, which says "All things work together for good for those who love God" and Romans 8:38-39, "For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." These aren't simply flow-y sounding verses I picked--they have been proven true to me over and over; they are some of my most meaningful life verses.

Maybe I'm going through "a phase" (four years in now); maybe I'm experiencing a "mid-life crisis." Maybe I'm showing the effects of an "addictive personality." But if any of those be the case, I'm in a phase of authenticity and self-expression; I'm having a crisis of creativity, as I determine size, shape, color, and form--the process birthing that which I had only first imagined into permanent reality, tangible art; and I'm addicted to making beautiful, visually evocative statements about the life I have lived thus far. 

Not everyone would do what I've done. For many, one tattoo is enough--mission accomplished. But for me, tattoos have caused me to feel a greater sense of freedom to be me--to reveal the many facets of me, as it were. 

Some women get their nails done. Some women spend hundreds on hair maintenance. Some women go crazy at the fabric store. Some take up every nook and cranny in the house with books. Some pour their energy into physical fitness--joining health clubs and sweating in spandex. Me? I get tattoos. 

Four years ago, I couldn't have envisioned that such joy would come upon me as the result of a simple, bespectacled owl. But I'm glad it did. I'm not yet sure at what point I'll be "done" getting tattoos, but I will certainly enjoy the adventure. After all, this earthly body will one day pass away. I intend to make the most of the canvas I've been given--and hopefully inspire others in the process. 

Still going to Heaven. Still living for Jesus. Just living a little louder than before.

Transitioning Out of Dormancy

To lie dormant is to be in sort of a lull--"asleep," if you will. In the case of a volcano, the awakening from that dormancy can be quite dramatic--and even destructive. But in the case of a caterpillar in its chrysalis, the emergence from dormancy is magnificent due to the new, transformed life that it brings forth.

I feel I've been in a spiritual state of dormancy for some time now--not altogether unconscious but not completely engaged either. And God has been reminding me that it's not where He has designed me to live.

Like the caterpillar--becoming a butterfly--I have been through many transitions, and I am keenly aware right now that my days of transition are not over. Much of the process has involved learning to recognize (due to my vulnerabilities toward depression and anxiety) when a negative wave of thought and emotion is coming at me. It has meant getting serious about dispelling the cloud, knowing that it's not the happy, fluffy kind, with cheerful cherubs frolicking in its comfy cumulus; no, it's a dark and heavy cloud, and it seeks to crush me.

A journal entry I wrote August 6, 2012 reads: "Lately I feel like I'm "starting over" on life each week - and I wonder if I'm making any lasting progress or changes. I wake up (often) with discouragement nagging at me, but my spirit keeps trying to rise above. I need God's revelation - His perspective on life and my emotions." I can honestly say that He has done that. I don't always "rise above" as quickly as I should, but more often than not I am able to make a declaration of truth that changes my direction and mindset. And I no longer wake up feeling that weight of discouragement often. When I do, it feels out of place, and I know it doesn't belong to me. That is how far I've come in knowing who I am in Christ.

But...one can know he is a student, yet never go to class. One can be a "member" of a church but never darken its door. One can have the best of intentions while failing to make an actual impact. In the same way, knowing who I am isn't enough--knowledge so wonderful needs to be applied in order for me to fulfill the life Jesus paid for, and has called me to.

Recently I joined a class that is all about learning to hear God's voice. Almost instantly, my antennae began to perk up again--and my desire to hear from God clearly and intimately was rekindled. And though I already had been experiencing a transition in the natural and sensing one faintly in the spirit, I now am certain that God is about to do some big things in my life--and in the lives of those around me.

Just as I felt compelled to take that class, today I felt compelled to pick up a book that had been sitting on my shelf for at least a couple years, Approaching the Heart of Prophecy: A Journey into Encouragement, Blessing and Prophetic Gifting by Graham Cooke. In his dedication, Graham writes: "Transition is a journey into the bigness of God for you. In that series of steps, you get to experience a transformation that opens up the heavens and makes a way for you on earth. Never forget it is the process that makes you rich, not the outcome." I couldn't wait to read more.

In his introduction Graham writes: "I believe strongly that the more encouraging, exhorting and comforting prophecy we have, the better our churches will be. Blessing and encouragement stir up anointing. The more of this kind of prophecy we can have in church, the less we will need intensive, time-consuming pastoral care. People will actually be touched by God and come into the things of the Spirit themselves. Individuals will realize that, yes, they are loved personally by God. That kind of revelation will stoke up their faith in ways a counseling session never could." That's not to say Graham Cooke is against counseling--it's just that if you've experienced a God-revelation, you know that God can do in an instant what some may work for years to try and accomplish. I found my spirit resounding "Yes, yes, yes!" as I read. And my own anointing being stirred.

Graham Cooke goes on to explain that as people, we are drawn toward revelation--it is part of our DNA, because we are made in the image of God. He points out that we ourselves are "a prophetic voice of who God is, how He speaks, and what He's doing on the earth." But we must make sure that we are operating within His nature.

Why does all this matter to me? Because God gave me a prophetic voice--which is most often heard in the words I write. But I need to remain willing to hear His voice and write what He tells me. In my dormancy, I have been busy with other things--the things to which my focus had shifted. Responsibilities, recreation, family (which isn't bad--but sometimes can feel overly busy too), and even food. Do I want to be someone who hears of someone's misfortune and responds with "that's too bad," or do I want to be someone whose love for God spills over onto the people around me--who can offer encouragement and hope in a time of real need?

Prophecy, as Graham explains it, "is simply encouraging, exhorting and comforting people by tuning them into what God has for them." It's life-giving! And isn't that my life's message? That God has freedom and a destiny in store for His children, and that we shouldn't allow ourselves to be robbed by the ugly, pushy influences of Anxiety and Depression?

I feel like the Holy Spirit is bringing me back to You Had One Job 101, not in a condemning way--but in a "let's get back to what I really made you for" way, a refresher if you will.

So as I begin to transition out of dormancy, I wonder how many others may feel a stirring--of identity that was once emblazoned across their chests but has been blocked by the cares of the world; of callings and passions that were put on a shelf because they seemed "too big" or "too unrealistic;" of dreams someone told you were impractical or silly. God is the biggest, most passionate dreamer there is--and He'll always tell you the truth about who you are--even when you can't see it. "The Lord is with you, mighty man [or woman] of valor" (Judges 6:12, brackets mine). He's on your side; He's got the details covered; who do you think gave you those big ideas to begin with?!

No longer lying dormant means being spiritually coherent. It means "tuning in" and seeking the Lord. It means not being content to muddle through life, but to purpose to hear His voice as the guide of the journey. For He has promised, "You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart" (Jeremiah 29:13).

Turning my heart toward Him; continuing on the rich journey.