I had a dream.
In this dream I was a young girl. I spent a good chunk of time creating what I thought to be a brilliant piece of art. I was proud. What was it, you ask? It was my name. I had just left that creation with the letters of my name on my dad’s work desk. I wanted to leave my mark where he wouldn’t miss it. I didn’t want my dad to forget me while I went to school for the day.
I spent the majority of this dream pinging the world with constant reminders that I existed.
In this dream, there were two of me; my younger self and then my present self. My present self had a front row seat to my younger self’s attachment wounds that fueled my fear and insecurity. I watched my dad hold my face in his hands, looking deep into my eyes, offering his most earnest “I love you.” But like a black hole that swallows every hint at light, I needed more.
Present Lyndsee shook my head and wondered, what will it take to fill her heart, once and for all? I don’t know. I just don’t know. And so I prayed that the God who sees this girl’s deepest needs will, somehow, heal her. Heal me.
As I sat there, I realized I still ping the world with my presence, asking for reassurance that I matter. Some days it looks like too many hours online, back to back coffee dates, or a critical attitude. And then I realized that my radar pings aren’t always so pretty. Hiding in a deep hole, I pout and throw tantrums of adult-sized proportions. I complain, attack, accuse, overreact, and throw myself at near strangers, asking them to follow me, friend me, and value my offerings. Behind the meltdown, my need is the same:
Do you see me?
Do I matter?
Don’t forget I’m here!
Present Lyndsee was now crying. That’s when I realized a man was sitting next to me, witnessing exactly what I was seeing. He too, was crying. He grabbed my hand and told me to come with him. So I did, no questions asked. I trusted him.
I was led to a tattoo studio. As I sat in the chair, while the artist prepared all of the supplies, the man turned to me and asked me this:
“What would it look like if you turn your affection towards me? What would your life look like if you embraced the truths of character, choosing a position of thankfulness, and through the empowerment of my Spirit, you start to establish my Kingdom in all areas of your life?”
I responded with, “Embracing you means choosing to see You, Your image, in every single one of Your sons and daughters.”
I looked down and had seen that I had just been marked. I now had a tattoo that read embrace on my wrist.
The man then also got a tattoo. He got my name on his hand.
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I woke up with a smile on my face.
Let’s talk about tattoos. I’ve never wanted to get a tattoo and have never really considered it. But the next night, I had the same dream.
To know we matter comes from within, not without. It’s not an external filling, worldly affirmations collected one Facebook friend and coffee date at a time. Significance isn’t an external number but an internal assurance. My value—your value—isn’t subject to public scrutiny or a vote. It’s not based on that painful criticism you received or the long history of the mistakes you’ve made. And it’s not sourced in the “I love you’s” you solicit or the accolades you merit.
It’s based not on anything you do but on the fact that you are.
“I have engraved you on the palms of my hands,” God says (Isaiah 49:16). He tattoos your existence in this world—your name—on His very self. No need to leave a reminder of your presence. No fear He’ll forget you once He gets busy with the tasks of the day.
You are His. Marked on His hands. He can no more remove you from His thoughts than He can separate His arm from His body.
God’s personal love is the putty that fills our cracks. When we know our value to God and secure our lives on that truth, one hundred “I love you’s” don’t disappear into a black hole of need. They simply add to what the one who made us already said is true.
So yes, in my dream—Jesus and I got tatted. And yes, I now have the word embrace forever tattooed on my arm.
It won’t be easy to live marked by the unfailing love of God. One moment, you’ll feel all warm and fuzzy, the next you’ll doubt it. It’s far easier to follow other people around, waiting and hoping to be loved.
But never forget: Only God’s love is a sure thing. Only God’s love marks us in permanent ink and never rubs off. We’re loved, wanted, and never, ever forgotten.
“The maker of the stars would rather die for you than live without you. And that is a fact. So if you need to brag, brag about that.” —Max Lucado
Getting my tattoo in Manila
Embrace tattoo
