Last night, I sat in a chair holding a leather pillow to my chest. How much longer is this going to take? Only 20 minutes had passed but it felt like hours. I was super nervous; I had never gotten a tattoo in a place that I couldn’t see. I repeatedly asked Janele if it looked okay and she affirmed each time that it looked great.
I needed this tattoo to look great because it has such an important meaning to me.
I love tattoos. I love the stories behind them. Each is unique, even if the person got the idea from Pinterest. I wanted to tell these stories, so I decided to start a series on my blog about tattoos. Each week, I will publish a blog about the story behind a tattoo. For the first four weeks, I’ll be writing about my own. So here we go!
I got my first tattoo at the young age of 18. I know what you’re thinking. She got one because she wasn’t living at home and wanted to be rebellious. Typical. Sure. I was living on my college campus 20 minutes from my parents’ home and went home every weekend. My parents definitely had no say how I lived my life (please read that last statement sarcastically so I don’t sound like an ungrateful brat).
With all seriousness, I did get my first tattoo without my parents’ permission or blessing and I was a little rebellious in doing so. I was 18 and really wanted to be an ”individual.” So I got a tattoo of the world map. I know, I know. Basic.
At the time, I had such a vision. I wanted to travel the world and teach and what better way to show that than to slap a tattoo on my forearm.
All joking aside, I do not at all regret my tattoo. The meaning for me has changed and grown over time, though. Originally, I just wanted to be cool and show all the people who looked at my arm that I had a desire to explore the world around me. I still love travelling and don’t think I will ever get tired of it. Not even traumatic travel days have dampened my wandering heart. But my tattoo for me means so much more now.
When I look at my tattoo, I think of the Great Commission. Jesus tells us to go make disciples in all nations. Every time I look down at my arm, I am reminded of that command. Borders are man-made and God’s love transcends every single border. Every place that I go, every step that I take, allows people to experience God’s love through me.
