“I am a sinner” (Jesus the Tattoo Artist)

I recently had an unexpected (yet MUCH needed) personal encounter with Jesus.

 

The cool thing about this encounter is the location in which it took place and whom Jesus used to meet me in this experience.  Dare I be brave and say that it consisted of being outside of church walls, and through a person who looked like anything but a pastor?

Straight up- Jesus met me in a tattoo shop in a small, Mennonite town.  Jesus spoke to me through a pointed bearded, tattooed arms, multiple piercings on his ears, motorcycle riding, self-acclaimed “I am a sinner”, tattoo artist.  Wait…did I forget to mention that this same self-acclaimed sinner was now, more importantly, of royal blood? A Son, bought for with a price, of the Lord Most High.  This same man was a Jesus-loving, dedicated husband whom God used to speak more Biblical truth into my life than I’ve heard for a while.  He didn’t speak from a pulpit and he was most certainly not wearing his ‘Sunday best’ (yet still totally professional) but what he shared was raw and real.  Open and vulnerable, not hidden behind a mask or a fake smile.  It is true folks!  IT IS possible!  

Simply put, I was there to walk in, get my second tattoo (with hopefully a limited amount of pain in the process) and walk out.  Jesus had something else in mind.  He wanted to ‘wake me up’ through this tattoo artist.  Jesus wanted to remind me that we are all sinners but that doesn’t change just how much He (Jesus) loves me, and you, despite how we try to hide behind our ‘perfectly sinless’ lives (ya’ll know what I am talking about). Reality is, I am a sinner.  Yet one of the cool things about who Jesus is, is that He still cause me ‘child’.  He still calls me ‘daughter of the King Most High’.  He still relentlessly, lovingly pursues me even when I try and push Him away when I fail to see His Goodness and faithfulness in my own life.  He still straight up loves me regardless of how messy my life is.  If that isn’t a display of love and grace…I don’t know what is.  Thank you JESUS for the work You did on the cross for a sinner like me.

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As strange as it sounds, I cannot remember a time in recent weeks that I felt as much peace as I did while I was allowing my body to be poked time and time again.  I found myself becoming mesmerized as I watched the ink flow through the tool and the design begin to take shape just above my inner right ankle.  A (base) design that started off as a ‘lucky find’ on Pinterest but that has now (thanks to the artistic skills of my tattoo artist) become a tattoo uniquely my own.  

A tattoo that holds scriptural truth from Micah 6:8 that changed the direction/focus of my life when I first heard it during my first year of Bible College.  A tattoo that captures Africa, a place/continent that challenged what I thought I knew and understood about Micah 6:8.  The same continent that also ‘rocked’ my faith foundation as I began to discover a living, active God through the lives of the African people and culture.  My times/experience in Africa, would only be the start of my adventures with Jesus around the world.  An experience I will forever be grateful for.   

My tattoo includes a last minute decision to add a single strand of wheat and was done in honour of my late Grandpa.  My grandpa spent his entire life farming and providing the base ingredient that would feed more mouths of people than I will ever know.  That same single strand of wheat, has now taken on dual meaning as it also represents scriptural truth found in Luke 10:2.  This verse coincides with my inner desire that God will use me in HIS harvest, while living out Micah 6:8, regardless of where I am in the world.  Finally, the broken/incomplete lines that make up the globe, represents the brokenness and pain in this world.  Brokenness and pain that will one day be fully restored by Jesus and the Biblical truth found in Revelation 21:4.

For an added, unexpected bonus, my new tattoo will now have another meaningful moment behind it.  A forever reminder of a brief 1.5 hour powerful encounter with Jesus.  An encounter with Jesus through a pointed bearded, tattooed arms, multiple piercings on his ears, motorcycle riding, self-acclaimed “I am a sinner”.  Yet also a dedicated husband and chosen son, who was bought with a price, of the Lord Most High…a Jesus-loving tattoo artist.

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“He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God” Micah 6:8

^“He told them, “The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field” Luke 10:2

He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death' or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." Revelation 21:4

A Tough Week (re-discovering Jesus' Living Hope)

I cannot remember the last time I wanted a week to be over as much as I did this past week.  Truth be told- it was a crummy week.  I tried to wake up each morning with the notion that ‘yesterday had passed’ and that ‘today is a brand new day’.  That worked for about the first 90 seconds of being awake.  I couldn’t (and still can’t) “peg” exactly what was going on but this past week did remind me that I am very much human and that I need to learn how to deal with whatever  “it” was.

More importantly- I was reminded of the Living HOPE that we have in Jesus through a guest speaker on our weekly senior youth night.  Ironically enough, this guest speaker was also a past youth leader- someone who I served alongside with for 4 years in youth ministry.  Because of this, I knew of some of the pain and hurt that was shared.  I knew their faith was (is) strong and I admire(d) them for it.  

The message for the evening was simply called “hope” based from 1 Peter 1:3-9.  When I read the subheading in the NIV, “Praise to God for a Living Hope”, I knew instantly that this message was directed at me. 

As I listened, I could feel God convicting me.  Now, I should clarify.  I knew that God was NOT judging or condemning me but rather, the conviction that I felt came out of a Holy, loving, and hopeful place.  It was this... “Nikki- I see your hurt and I feel your pain.  In your weakness, allow ME to become your Strength.  Remember, in this world-you WILL have troubles.  Take a step back, relax, breathe and, as hard as it maybe, seek My face.  Or have you forgotten that I have overcome the world (John 16:33).  I won’t leave you.  I never will.  Spend time getting to know ME once again and allow my Living Hope to flow through you and within you”

Sounds simple right? Spend time with God and all will work out.  Never again will I have a bad day, let alone a bad week? Hold on.  STOP. PAUSE.  

Did you (I) miss the reference to how we WILL have troubles in this world? John16:31-33 says “Jesus answered them, “Do you finally believe? In fact, you’re about to make a run for it-saving your own skins and abandoning me.  But I am not abandoned.  The Father is with me.  I’ve told you all this so that trusting me, you will be unshakable and assured, deeply at peace.  In this godless world you will continue to experience difficulties.  But take heart! I’ve conquered the world” (The Message). 

I believe.  I do.  I wouldn’t be where I am today, without Jesus.  Without that Living Hope and that deep peace that He alone offers.  Yet why do I often feel as tho I am running to save my own skin and abandoning that Living Hope and Peace in the process?  I know Jesus but I was reminded that I need to continue to KNOW Jesus each and every day.  I cannot (will not) put my trust, or hope, in someone I do not know.

The question was raised, “How do we get to know someone? How do best friends become best friends when everyone we meet, starts off as a complete stranger?”  Simple.  We spend time together.  We get to KNOW each other through learning about one another.  It can be simple, basic things such as favourite colour or animal.  From there, as we spend time with one another, trust slowly begins to be built.  Soon deeper, more personal, things are shared between the friends, both trusting the other to maintain that level of trust.  Honestly, it’s a risk.  It’s a chance that must be taken for something that is genuine and real.  I want Jesus to, once again, become my best friend. 

I am well aware of what God was convicting me to do in my own relationship with Him.  It is something that I know has been lacking and it has been lacking a LOT.  Honestly, a part of me has lost my ‘zeal’ for all things God related but I also know that the Spirit is very willing but the flesh is so weak.  This past week- my flesh definitely won, but that doesn’t mean I am defeated.  Why?  In Jesus, I have a LIVING HOPE and its time I start to embrace it once again.  

I recently picked up “The Message” version of the Bible and I am LOVING reading it.  I cannot get enough of it.  As I re-discover stories I’ve heard thousands of times before, I learning to re-embrace Jesus’ living Hope inside of me.  

This.  This is what God was calling me to do. 

To slow down.  To Trust Him.

To pray and to spend intimate time with Him.

To rediscover His amazing Love and

To allow His Living Hope to reside in me once again

Meeting Jesus (O Death where is your sting?)

I have started this blog over about 5 times already- never quite sure what will become of it or how to properly express the turmoil going on inside my head and the peace within my heart. 

It’s Sunday afternoon and I am at my parents.  The song “Magnify” by We are Messengers is on repeat, playing through my computer speakers.  Around me, my eyes pick up glimmers of white mini lights, hidden in the greenery, that mom has put up for this Christmas season.  To my right, flowery displays of exotic plants capture my sense of smell as I am drawn back to faraway lands; trying to forget the reason why the house seems to have suddenly become a mini flower shop in the matter of 48 hours…but more about that later.  Outside, nature is doing its part in helping bring a ‘white Christmas’, as I watch the frozen mix of rain/snow fall from the sky.  On the ground below, there are still remnants of summer days passed as the green grass is struggling to poke through the thin layer of snow that has fallen.  I find myself smirking; realizing the irony of it.  As much as I would like a snowy/cold white Christmas, I hate the crappy driving conditions and the debate of ‘should I go out on the road tonight…if I don’t have too’, that comes with weather like this.  

 Jesus.  Even in a season that has just passed…You were still GOOD.  In the season yet to come, Jesus you WILL still be GOOD.  Jesus, right here and now- you ARE GOOD.

Little did I know that a simple text Tuesday afternoon at 3:07 from my mom-asking for me to say a simple prayer for Grandpa-would be the start of a crazy, unexpected ending to an otherwise ‘normal’ week.  27 hours later, instead of finding myself getting ready for another evening of youth, I found myself caught up in a moment that I never thought I would ever have to experience.  With all the experiences that God has brought me to, and through, I had never experienced HIM quite like I did between 6:00-6:20 that Wednesday evening and I am having a hard time explaining it.   

Perhaps, one of the greatest honour's this side of Heaven, is to be in the same room when someone takes their final breath of their earthly life.  That moment when you realize that they are now face to face with Jesus…words cannot express it.  It is a humbling, tender and a very raw experience.  It is a HOLY moment like nothing I’ve ever felt before.  The power within the room, as a person is released from a broken body and a hurting world…into a complete healing and a pure FREEDOM…wow…

Death isn’t new.  In my own way, I’ve experienced it many times before.  Through the eyes of a 4 year old, not able to understand why mommy was so sad and why visiting Grandma and Grandpa on the farm now, would be different because Grandma wouldn’t be there.  Instead being told that, “Grandma would be with Jesus, watching you play and grow up, from Heaven”.  As a child, experiencing the first loss of a pet and the anger that came with that.  As a pre-teen; seeing the pain in close friends as they lost their grandparents but being jealous at the fact they HAD their grandparents with them for many more years than I did mine.  As a teenager, slowly learning to try and understand the death Jesus chose to die on the cross for me.  As a college-aged young adult-cramming through endless hours of papers and exams; discovering more of more of WHO Jesus is.  

As a college graduate with a B.A. in Mission, ready to ‘take on the world’, only to have to learn how to walk through the experience of death once again, as my brother dealt with the death of a high school classmate in a freak accident.  Being told while on my first mission’s trip to Africa, that the young child I held in my arms, would probably be dead within the week due to lack of human contact.  A year and a half later, being back in that same hospital in Africa and hearing the wails of a mother down the hall, whose baby was just born stillborn.  Losing my first niece to miscarriage and learning that 50% of (first) pregnancies end in miscarriages. Learning to deal with death from afar while in Serbia, when I got news of one of my youth girls dying in an accident.  Wrestling with wanting to hop on the next flight home, to be with my other girls who I knew were struggling, but knowing that God had placed me where I was for a reason.  Praying for a sick grandma to be healed while in the Philippians, only to hear that she passed away while we were on our way back to our contacts a short while later, brought about an anger within me towards God.  While back teaching in Africa, hearing news that the baby boy we literally just rescued, died due to constipation… tore at my heart.  Bumping along to his funeral…seeing mounds upon mounds of grave sights…it does something to a person.  It changes how one views life and death. Arriving home and learning my uncle was sick with an incurable disease that only 1 in a million Canadians have…seeing his health quickly decline in a matter of months.  Yet, having the honour of being asked to read his obituary at his funeral.  I will never forget that.  I took a moment to look up from the pulpit as I read-there was not a dry eye in that packed church.  One life but the impact it had on many…over a year later and those feelings are still hard to explain what I felt flow through me in that moment.  

Perhaps all those (and more) prepared me for that Holy moment on Wednesday.  

While I don’t ‘wish’ that experience on anyone, I am thankful to God that I was able to experience it.  In its own way, even in death, God revealed His ultimate love to us (me) in a very real, tangible way.  After all, wasn’t it God’s ultimate display of love for you and I that sent Jesus to the cross to die?  I know what I felt on Wednesday evening…how much more powerful, more HOLY, more filled with LOVE must it have been when the Son of God died.       

Although there is a season to mourn and grieve, I rejoice knowing that someday I too will experience an earthly death.  It is in that moment, that I look forward to seeing all those who have passed on, before me.  More importantly, it is in that moment that I await, with great anticipation, to hear the words spoken to me (a servant) by my Master…words that I know my Grandpa heard Wednesday evening… “Well done good and faithful servant.  You have fought the GOOD fight to the very end.  Welcome home to eternal glory”.