At the end of the month, my team and I had half a day in Belgrade before we met the rest of the squad for travel day to Romania. A couple of my teammates decided they wanted to get a tattoo.
Rewind: I have always thought about getting a tattoo, much to my parents’ dismay. Something as a reminder for myself about what God has done for me or something that would point others to Jesus. But I never could decide on a permanent art, so I stopped looking.
Then, I landed in the World Race culture where (at least in my beloved P-squad) tattoos are a popular topic of choice. I began praying about it again. I prayed asking if I should even get one, I prayed about what I would get or where to put it. I received no answers or confirmations. God was silent about this.
In Cambodia (2 countries ago) , I was talking with a friend about tattoos and we started designing one for me. With Pinterest and her own tattoo as idea starters, she drew some things out in my journal. It was a fun activity! Lol
Still, I didn’t have peace about getting one. Fear and lack of confidence ruled in me. To be honest, the Race has revealed more and more about how I’ve allowed those emotions to rule my decisions rather than clinging to the truth of who God says I am.
The last two months, I’ve been meditating on who God says I am. God keeps reminding me that I am His daughter and His beloved. He tells me that I am complete and whole. Specifically in Serbia, my paraphrased verse was that I am not ruled by the spirit of fear but the Holy Spirit that lives in me gives me His power, His love and His self control. (1 Tim 1:7)
God also was teaching me that looking is believing. Even if my faith is the size of a mustard seed, even if my belief is lifting my eyes to the mountains, God meets me there and gives me His strength.
So finally, when my teammates spontaneously wanted to get tattoos, I didn’t let fear rule but said “why not?” Not for other people’s validation or approval but to declare to myself how good is my God.
When I see my tattoo, it reminds me to look to Jesus for my confidence and identity. It reminds me to look up instead of out or even within. Like the Israelites looked to the bronze serpent to be healed, when I look to Jesus, He continues to heal me.
Ps. Happy Mother‘s Day!! I love you bunches, Mama dearest!
