wounded healer

though i'm not an impulsive person, i am also not one to sit around and only talk about something. i'm a doer. i like action. if i say i am going to do something, i usually do. [though sometimes i think only through stubbornness] my INTJ temperament predicts me as such.
so what did i do yesterday? i got a tattoo.

when i was burned in europe, i wanted all of the scars to go away except for the drip line on my right foot. for some reason, even on the day of the event, i thought this looked pretty cool. the only time i ever see it now is after i get out of a hot shower and the redness returns. this permanent marking was born out of the oil outline. i've been drawing it on my foot for weeks now to get it just right..i knew exactly what i wanted. the tattoo artist even left my own pen markings on to be sure the ink was placed correctly. i must say, it was quite an experience. here is, this little, white, suburbia, girl in a tattoo parlor... i must have been a sight with in my pointy toed shoes, business attire, and a small string of dots on my foot.

if you've read this blog very long or know me at all, you might deduct two chapters of my life which have been important...being burned with oil while in prague [read here, here and here] and recovering from an emotional wound [read more here, here, and here] these events, separate and isolated, make little sense to me. but when they are paired together, each lends itself to the other for a deeper understanding; they become a compliment to the other. the physical burn i suffered almost two years ago has given me a tangible picture of what my wounded heart has undergone and the healing that has taken place. though the damaged skin has become faded scars, they vividly paint a beautiful picture for me of His faithfulness and restoration in my life. the wounds in my heart have become faded memories, but still remain a part of my story. they have opened me up to Truths i never knew existed and purposes i could not imagined without such suffering.

we all have wounds. for some, these wounds were inflicted by the harsh words of a mother or the neglectfulness of a father. perhaps it was a divorce or abandonment, disease or abuse. we don't have to look far to find them. however, we're afraid to reveal them because we don't want to feel the pain or be hurt again. we become good at hiding them under our pride. we try to deal with them on our own, not realizing healing can only come when we acknowledge them, accept them and make them visible to others. when we do this, our wounds illuminate and stabilize our own lives as well as become a source of healing to others. they remind us of our brokenness, of our need for grace. we do not become arrogant victims; we become wounded healers, educated towards empathy.
[refer relevant magazine's podcast 03.03 and manning's abba's child p28-31]

so, yeah. i got a tattoo.