Hope

I have been hesitant to write this post, but it has been rolling around in my head for some time and so I thought I would write it and then decide later if I would just leave it in my drafts or actually post it. 

I guess I decided to post it.  lol

It is about the word hope.  I decided some time ago that it is my favorite word in the English language.  I think that's because there have been many times in my life where I felt like things were so messed up and I didn't know how to move forward or fix them.  In those times the only thing that could pull me out of the mental funk I was in was simply...hope.  

Hope for the future.

Hope for something better.

Hope that a loving Father in Heaven could fix things that I couldn't.  

Hope that that same Father in Heaven has wisdom and knowledge that I can't see and that He is still in control even though I am not...ever (it seems).  

I also decided at some point that hope is what anchors me to Him.  It is the thing that pulls me back into reality when I feel desperate, and beyond repair, and all of the worthlessness in the world building up on me.  If I can find hope, I can find my footing again.  Maybe I shouldn't rely so much on hope.  Maybe I need to take into account faith, and charity, and all of the others worthwhile things out there. 

Maybe.  

I do find comfort in those things, but hope is my go to.  And I don't think that is so bad.

I have found that if I try (really try sometimes), I can find hope in any situation.  I suppose that is because I am His.  I am a child of the Most High God.  He loves me and I am His.  

Two years ago I got that word tattooed onto my body.

Wait...did you just go back and read that last line to see if you really read it correctly?  I bet you did.  I snuck it in there pretty casually.  Haha. 

But yeah.  A for real, permanent tattoo.  The kind that are made with needles and ink and will be on my body when I am ninety years old.  I fully expect it to look like some nasty black (or faded to green) birth defect on my skin by that time.  

My choice in the getting the tattoo was not all on my own.  I had a friend really push for me to go through with it.  I had initially wanted it and then decided against it.  For many reasons.  But she pushed until I finally gave in.  

-Do I blame her?  No.  Not at all.  Ultimately I make my own decisions.
-Have I regretted the decision since?  Maybe a few times, but mostly I'm okay with it.
-Do I think it is a sin to get tattoos? I am undecided.  Possibly.
-Will I ever get another one?  I have considered it many times.

They say tattoos are addictive.  I can see why, but I don't know that I fall into that category.  Sometimes I draw new ones out, and then I take a picture of it and put it away for a while.  It seems that anytime I stubble across it later, I never have the same feelings towards it.  I suppose that is a good way to decide.  

The tattoo is on my hip.  I decided on that spot because I wanted it to be hidden from the general population, but I didn't want it to be in such a "remote" place as to have to get too personal with the man inking me (if you know what I am saying).  I also wanted to be able to show people if they asked without, again, getting too personal. 

Side note: When letting someone place a permanent mark on your body like that, you tend to get chatty with them as you sit and try not to cry from the pain.  I started to ask him questions about crazy tattoos and crazy placement of tattoos.  He said he had done them everywhere.  I asked if he meant everywhere everywhere?  He said yes.  I didn't ask him to expound upon that.  I got the picture.  

For the last two years I have only told a handful of people about my tattoo.  I sort of like that it is this little secret of mine.  Although, I probably think I am more sly than I actually am.  I have had people ask me about it who I didn't tell.  Like my Mom.  Haha.  That is because sometimes it pops out from under the hem of my shirt when I move.  Oops.  So maybe this not new news to any of you.  Maybe you knew and just didn't say anything.  Which is fine.  But there you have it, friends.  My secret is officially out. 

I have a tattoo!

Just in case you were wondering:

Yes it did hurt.  

And no I did not draw this myself, but I did come up with the phrase.

And yes, you can see it next time we are together (if you ask).