#GoodGoodFather

I've not written in awhile. I apologize. I know that everyone out there is deeply offended, because going through life with out my amazing input must be difficult. It was rude of me, and I will try to do better.

This year has been crazy, and it's only March. I lost my grandfather at the end of last year. He had been sick for years, but it was still hard. I graduate in May, and so this semester has been focused on figuring out future life plans and soaking up the last little bit of time I conveniently have my friends around. Death struck again though, and at the begging of this month I lost my dad. He died of a massive heart attach at the age of 55, the same age his mom passed of the same cause. It sucks. It's hard, and the pain isn't something that just dissolves after a few weeks. I miss him in random moments. This week it's primarily been when I'm walking on campus by myself, the times I used to call him. I wasn't going to write about losing my father. It's personal. However, I can write about it easier than I can talk about it, and I need to get it out there.  

Me and my dad at Easter 2016.

Friends and family keep checking in on me. Asking how I'm doing and how I'm feeling, which is very sweet. I never really know what to say though. I'm doing good, fine really. I'm still easily distracted and a bit forgetful. I have noticed myself not having the greatest patience and being quick to anger. I'm sad, but not always. I have the most incredible support system, but I don't really know what I need. I miss him. And it sucks and it's not fair, but I'm also at peace which makes no since. See, I know my dad is in heaven.The day his body failed, his spirit continued. I know my dad closed his eyes here on earth and met Jesus. He was able to see his mom again, and his dad, and that brings me such great joy. But I still miss him. My dad was saved. He knew God, he knew Jesus, and we were able to share his salvation story at his funeral.

Y'all, knowing my dad is in heaven brings me such comfort and peace, but that doesn't mean I don't hate that he is not here. He will never see me graduate, and that's probably what I'm having the hardest time with right now.

My dad gave me my high school diploma since he graduated from
the same school.  

 He won't be here to meet the person I fall in love with, walk me down the aisle, or meet any grandchildren my brother or myself give him. It's selfish, I want him here to experience my milestones. But, I think it's a good selfish. I love my dad and that is why sharing these big events mean so much. I hurt though. I hurt for myself, for my brother, for my stepmom, for my dad's twin, and for my baby cousin that adored my dad. I hurt for my family, and for my church, because there is a hole where my dad used to be. I look forward to seeing my family, but I dread the absence of my dad that is so obvious at these events. But, isn't it such a blessing to know that my dad was loved that he is missed? Is it not such a joy to know that others are saddened by his absence? Is it not such a testament to the kind of man he was?

My dad loved his farm. This is his horse Red.

Death sucks, and grief is hard, but even Jesus wept (John 11:35). Jesus mourned the loss of a dear friend, and I will mourn the loss of my earthly father. However, I want you to know that I am also rejoicing. I'm rejoicing because my God is so, so good. I'm rejoicing because my father had a salvation story. I'm rejoicing because at the beginning of the funeral my uncle leaned over and asked me if knowing where my daddy was, would I want to bring him back and I was able to say with confidence no. No. I don't want to rip him from heaven. No I don't want him to have to return to this life after having met Jesus. No I wouldn't want to do that to him. Do I wish he was here? Yes, with every fiber of my being, but not at the expense of leaving heaven. 

I rejoice because I have a good, good Father. I rejoice because I can see His hand in every piece of the story. I rejoice because I know He loves me. I rejoice because I know he loved me. I rejoice because there is still so much to be thankful for. I rejoice because I know that one day I will see my father again. I rejoice because my God is great, and even in the midst of storms He loves me.

I can not imagine going through what I am without my faith. I can't imagine doing this without my God. The day after my dad's funeral I flew to another state to join other college students serving college students on spring break. For a week I was able to take part in giving free van rides and free pancakes so that we can share the love God has for us to His children. I was able to actively see God move and I was able to witness people love Him. I was able to serve others instead of focusing on myself and it was amazing. The beach helped as well. But, I share that in order to say this: Death sucks, but Jesus conquered death two thousand years ago from a wooden cross, and because of His sacrifice I am able to find joy and peace even among the pain and grief.
Philippians 4:4-7 

One of my favorites of us. Wasn't he a handsome man?

#Tattedup

I was going to make my first "real" post a sort of "about me" type thing, because I figured that's what I'm probably supposed to do. However, I kind of hate writing those and have therefore decided to share about myself in a roundabout way. I'm going to share my tattoo story. 

I decided when I was about 13 that I really wanted a tattoo when I got older. It wasn't a thought I shared with a lot of people, just one of those fleeting what-if scenarios. But the thought was there. My mom has two tattoos and my dad is dead set against them for religious reasons (he likes to throw in that he also just thinks they are tacky and pointless), but I have always had an interest. I'm not exactly an artist -- I would give that title to my brother, who is studying art -- but I have a great appreciation for art. Tattoos, to me, are such a great artistic expression of one's self. I know this is also pretty cliche and cheesy so far, but bear with me.

When I was 16 I pretty much decided on what I would one day permanently mark my body with.

Psalm 139:14 says, "I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

    your works are wonderful,

    I know that full well." (NIV).

(This is right after so that's why it's cray cray red. Also, it wasn't as painful as everyone thinks it looks.)

When I was 16 I decided to give my life over to the Lord, a permanent change to my spiritual body. 

See, my tattoo story and my salvation experience kind of go hand in hand.

I was raised in church, Sunday school, VBS, and going to a Christian school, but I was separated from God until I turned 16. I don't intend to turn this blog into a strictly Christian blog; I don't know enough for that and I have to many non-religious things to rant about. However, these seemingly random experiences kind of define who I am.

The reason I chose that verse, the reason I say these acts go together, is because I struggled with self worth for years. When I was around the age of 13 I had some pretty crappy people in my life. I was still learning to deal with my parents' divorce while trying to find my place in the social world. I had "best friends" that treated me like I was a waste of their time, who told others that I was annoying. I had friends that used me, yet weren't there when I most needed them. I had an adult step into my life that made me miserable with mostly verbal comments, snide remarks, and other petty actions. Basically, I had people that tore me down when I most needed a helping hand. I didn't realize how badly this affected me. I didn't know how little I thought of myself -- until I started to make changes.

I had an amazing friend step into my life. She was smart, kind, and had absolutely no interest in typical teenage drama. I had some family members that made it known they knew I was struggling and that they were there for me no matter what. Honestly, I think I got so tired of the bull crap that I did away with it all until I found the stuff that actually made me happy.

Fast forward a few years and I'm 16. I know who God is but I have no relationship with Him, but I decided to go to a missions conference because that friend I mentioned earlier was going. I'm not going to go into great detail, but basically one of the speakers really said what I needed to hear (that might be another post for another day), and I realized there that the only thing that had been keeping me from having that relationship with Christ was my false thoughts of not being someone God would save. He already offered me salvation, 2,000 years ago when He died on a cross, and I was the one refusing. Two weeks after the conference I was saved while at a revival meeting one night, but I didn't tell any one for a year.

When I started this post, I didn't intend to share any of my salvation experience, but that's part of the back story so there you go. My tattoo is "fearfully and wonderfully made" because it has and continues to serve as a constant reminder of who I am. I never really had any hesitations about getting a tattoo, other than knowing my father was dead set against it, but I did do a lot of research to be confident in my decision (if you are interested on knowing where I stand from a biblical view this video sums it up) and to make sure I was choosing the right shop for myself.  I found Safe House Tattoo which is based in Nashville (my hometown), and I loved all their artist work. Actually, it was their artists' bios, along with their portfolios, that sold me on this shop. I sent them an email, got hooked up with Zane Pendergast, and booked the appointment for Thanksgiving Eve. I have had no regrets and could honestly not be more pleased with how it turned out two years down the line.

 I love tattoos, and I have plans for more. I love the shop I chose, and I would love to use them again when I'm all saved up. And, I love my God, and I'm excited to see how my little expression of what He has done for me can maybe be used by Him one day.

I know this isn't your typical introduction to a person. This isn't how I expected this to turn out, but it's my story, my passions, and I hope someone out there can enjoy!