So, here is a break from my usual “everything Africa/babies” posting for a link up that I adore! It’s called Link Your Ink! and it is a link up where people share Tattoo stories.
December 5, 2009. I finally made it out to visit an old friend, Billy, who happens to be an incredible tattoo artist. I had given him the basic idea of what I wanted and when I arrived at his shop he already had these sketched up, and PERFECT. I was so in love with them from the moment I saw them, despite the fact I had been fairly vague on details. I know a tattoo artist is just that, an artist, and if you give them too many limitations, you will not receive their best work. Now I know YOU’RE the one who has to live with it on you forever, so obviously don’t get something done you don’t love, but really, given creative freedom, a tattoo artist can take your good idea and make it super beautiful.
I had always loved the verse from Isaiah 6:8 where Isaiah responds “Here am I, send me”. I knew it would always correlate with my life. At the time I was 5 months in to a year commitment traveling around the United States doing school assembly programs. I ended up going back a second year to do the same. The year after that I spent 9 months traveling the US and 3 additional months traveling East Africa as part of a music ministry team. In September 2013 I packed my bags and moved to Tanzania indefinitely. I’ve always felt a peace about being ready to be sent wherever He wanted.
With that said, I also wanted this tattoo to have some specific links. The first part being a lighthouse. I grew up in the little state of New Hampshire in New England, the bitter but beautiful northeast. Every summer when I was a kid we would travel up the coast to Southern Maine to go to the beach. There was this light house, called Nubble Light, we always visited. We’d climb the rock walls over the ocean and just sit and watch the sun go down. We’d always get ice cream after. This lighthouse reminds me of where I started.
The very first time I heard God speak audibly it was two words. “Just go”. I was debating leaving everything I had known, born and raised in New Hampshire for 18, almost 19 years at the time, to move to Iowa for a job I wasn’t sure I had yet. I started driving halfway across the country and arrived in Ohio before I got the phone call that confirmed my position as a camp counselor at a Bible camp in northwest Iowa. As I drove across the sprawling midwest I remembered seen farm house after farm house, and so I got one of those on my second foot as a reminder to always be ready to go when He asks me to.
This is the most recent picture of my feet tattoos, still looking great years later. As a side note, I had them both done in one session, and it took almost 4 hours with minimal breaks.