Tatted Up

I've never blogged about my tattoos before, and to me this is kinda strange. They are an important part of my body, they are an important part of me. They are not something God gave to me "...I am fearfully and wonderfully made." -Psalm 139:14, but are ways in which I decided I was going to alter what God created. That is a big responsibility. I didn't get any of my six tattoos without thinking about that. People often ask me if I regret any of the tattoos I have. Trust me. I don't. People also ask how I can decide on something that's going to be a permanent addition to my wonderfully and perfectly made body. Here are the stories behind each:

#1: A simple black cross with three dots going down the side to represent the trinity. I designed this one when I was 17 preparing for my 18th birthday when I could sneak off and get a tattoo without my parent's permission. It lays on my right hip bone. I've been told a time or two that this is a completely inappropriate place to have a symbol of Jesus. And those that tell me this are completely correct. But it was a place easily hidden from my parents. I was a rebel at this age, and yeah, I thought it was sexy. Granted, the meaning of the cross was important to me at the time and the trinity was a concept that I had newly wrapped my head around. But the reason for getting the tattoo and the placement were simply a rebellious act. This is who I was then. When my parents learned of this tattoo (frickin' AOL instant messenger) they took all my high school graduation money from me as my punishment. To this day, I haven't seen a cent of it. It was one of many battles I had with my parents over the next couple years for my independence and coming of age. I got there though. And that tattoo is a reminder of where I've come from and a reminder of what Jesus Christ did on that cross for me.

#2: God's large beautiful hands holding a heart. The left side of the heart is beaten and ugly and the right side is glowing and pure. Inside the heart is the verse Proverbs 4:23 (which reads, "Above all else guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.") This gorgeous piece of art lays just above the tramp stamp area of my back and reaches to the top of my bra line. It spans the entire width of my back. Placement for this one was because it was a big flat surface and at the time I wanted no tattoos to be visible for the day I would eventually wear a wedding dress. The significance of this tattoo comes from one of my biggest strengths and at the same time my biggest weakness. I love hard. And I get hurt...hard. My heart is transformed and made new in God's hands. He will always be the keeper of my heart. I give my heart away easily and it's been broken and hurt more times than I want to count. I need to always remember to guard my heart. And I need to always remember who holds my heart.

#3: Five large plumeria start at my right armpit and weave their way down to the cross on my hip bone. They lay on some decorative, deep red, frilly stuff. This piece was eventually supposed to get colored in but after a brutal four hour session, I have vowed to never let a tattoo artist touch my side again. My family grew up taking trips to Maui, Hawaii every winter. Some of my fondest memories of my mom, dad, Chris, and Ryan come from our times spent in Hawaii. It's a sacred place for my family. Over the years I have fallen in love with the plumeria flower. The simplicity, beauty, and intoxicating smell that come from it are wondrous. Each flower tattooed on my side represents a member of my immediate family (including myself) and is a reminder that no matter what happens in this crazy thing called life, they will always be by my side. They're not going anywhere. Lifers. I know they will always love me and I will always love them. They've seen me at my absolute best and absolute worst. They've carried me through the trenches and praised my accomplishments. This is a tribute to them. They are beautiful.

#4 & #5: The words Faith and Hope are tattooed on the underside of my left forearm and the words Grace and Love are on the same place on my right. They are done in beautiful black script and are outlined in bright red. I see these words countless times a day. I did this on purpose, and the pairings are not an accident. The reason God gave us the gift of Grace is because He loves us. Without His love, there would be no reason for Grace. Without Hope, we cannot have faith. Faith is defined as "being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." -Hebrews 11:1. If your Hope is in Jesus Christ, than you can have Faith. I need to be constantly reminded of these things. I need to keep my Hope in the Lord so that I may have Faith in Him and I need to remember that He Loves me so much that he gave me Grace, a gift I won't ever deserve.

#6: The words "Loves you all" in my Grandpa Stucka's very own handwriting are on the inside of my right lower leg. This one is pretty self explanatory. Grandpa left us May 18, 2012. I love this man dearly. I miss him more than you can imagine. He loved better than most people can dream to. Although he would say something like, "What the hell did you do that for?" I want a piece of him with me everywhere I go. He physically may be in heaven, but his presence in my life is not going anywhere.


My tattoos are important to me because they tell my story. They are a timeline of where I've been, of what has been important to me, and they are constant reminders of who I am. They are artwork, stories, lessons learned, and tributes to those I love.