Powered by Blogger.

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Forget diamonds... tattoos are forever

After months of seeking out every sketchy tattoo parlor in the greater Lexington and Louisville areas, my friend Courtney and I finally took the plunge and got tattoos last weekend. Most people who know me would be shocked to hear this, but just because I'm conservative doesn't mean I didn't want a tattoo. And did I ever!

Not only did I- the germophobic pain-intolerant pre-nurse that I am- willingly pay for someone to stab me with a needle, I also chose one of the most painful spots to get a tattoo (ribs). To clarify, I wasn't trying to be tough- it was just one of the best places to cover up a tattoo when working/interviewing/impressing potential suitors and/or in-laws. While I lived up to to the "pain-intolerant" title (because *shockingly*, a needle in the ribs really hurts), Courtney was a beast. Her tattoo was MUCH larger and she barely flinched. Barn girls.

But this experience has been a good reminder to me of being adopted into God's family. I have been branded as a child of God by the grace of Jesus. I may not have ink under my skin that affirms this, but God has graven my name on His heart. He has marked himself on my behalf, and now I have tried to do the same for Him. A few months ago, during the children's lesson time at church, the pastor was telling the kids that God had written each of their names on His hands because He loved them so much. One of the kids spoke up, "God must have REALLY BIG hands." May you rest in that truth, friends. Our God has really big hands :)