While doing VBS this past July, I stopped by one day to hang out with Robby in the nursery. As I was sitting on the floor looking through a book with him, a friend's toddler stopped her play, pointed to my ankle, and said, "What's that?" I didn't have to ask for clarification, nor look for it. I knew exactly what she was referring to. My "dragon" tattoo. Sheepish, I replied, "Scars from a sinful past."I say "dragon" because you really have to use your imagination to actually see the dragon. What was once such a good idea at the mature age of 18 is now nothing more than a squiggly-lined embarrassment. I remember it all too well. I had just turned 18 and I was more than eager to exercise some freedom. My family, of course, would have never signed for such a thing, and I can't say that I blame them, so I diligently waited for my 18th birthday. I remember going with a friend, who was also 18 and tattoo-crazed, to a little salon here in Twin to get our tattoos. I didn't have enough to pay for one, but I "haggled" with the lady to do mine for $50. Lesson learned: you get what you pay for. I knew I'd always love dragons, so I scoured the internet and found the perfect one (seen above). At least, in theory. Needless to say, she did a very poor job (shocker) and now I'm stuck with the embarrassment and something that resembles anything but a dragon. It's really not surprising that half of people who get tattoos later regret getting them. I'm definitely one of that 50%.
Regretting much more than just a rebellious, stupid waste of $50, I'm now facing the dilemma of what to do. For a long time, I came to the conclusion that I would just cover it with something else - another tattoo. Now, I realize that that's not only a waste of more money, but a more foolish thought than the original tattoo idea. There's tattoo removal; something I have yet to still price out of fear of "sticker shock". Or I could keep it as a reminder. A reminder of what I once was - an unsaved, unregenerate, rebellious, selfish, vile heathen, dead in my sin (to many of my readers, this may seem harsh, but really, I was being nice). When I look at my tattoo, I see what God has saved me from and I remember where I started. God didn't gain anything by saving me, but now I have great worth to Him - emotional and physical scars and all. I'll have to pray about the right thing to do, but for now, my body's not my own. It's devoted to the little one growing inside me and I have to take that into consideration. Now you're all going to be looking at my ankles at church. ;)
Any thoughts, feedback, or prayers on this subject would be greatly appreciated.
