“Don’t you think baby, I know best? I’ve been a Father for a long time. So call my name and I will listen…”
I was like a child pounding on her Fatherâs chest in anger and sadness, crying out, âwhy canât you fix it?!â in regards to my life. I would look around at other people whose lives were overflowingâŠ who appear to âhave it allâ… and I would feel jealousyâŠ even a little rageâŠ because if I looked down at my own hands they seemed so empty.
Sitting in the tattoo parlor with my arm outstretched I realized that the real reason I was getting this tattoo is because of my own stupidity. But not in the sense that the inking of my body was stupid…
As I shouted aloud, as I literally tried to squeeze out grace in my Bible or as I lifted my hands impossibly high – as I tried to create the perfect recipe for a breakthrough – God was speaking quietly, nearly inaudibly – âLook, I make all things new.â