Anyway, I find tattoos to hold a similar interest for me. I want the story behind it! I love seeing what people have etched upon their skin to forever represent a moment in time...for the rest of their lives. That's what scares me about tattoos. I'm all for them. For other people. But, I stand in the chip aisle at Kroger, unable to just grab a bag and move along. Decisions just paralyze me. And to decide for something to permanently be on my body in the same place (plus gravity allowance) for the rest of my life? I mean, I look back at my prom dresses and hair styles and hate them.
But ya know, I still love my kids' names, so maybe it's more a decision like that than choosing chips or sequenced dance attire. I'll probably never get a tattoo and Isaac will probably get lots and that's how The Hutchinsons are gonna roll.
The anchor tattoos really stuck out to me. I KNOW I KNOW everyone has an anchor tattoo and I usually kick the wheel of the bandwagon while it's passing, lest anyone would think I'm jumping on it, but I'd probably choose an anchor.
Here is why. Hebrews 6:19:
We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.
Isn't that pretty? I drew a picture of this so that I could fully get it. SOUL at the top with a string that leads down to an anchor that has hope written across it. Hope holding my soul steady.
John Piper, in explaining how Christian hope is different from the dictionary's definition of hope, says:
"Christian hope is when God has promised that something is going to happen and you put your trust in that promise. Christian hope is a confidence that something will come to pass because God has promised it will come to pass."
So that Christian hope, that trust in His word, that confidence in Him is the anchor to my soul. That soul of mine that is prone to daydream and wander.
So, what does an anchor do? An anchor holds something steady. Something that seems big and mighty until you realize it's in the vastness of the ocean. The anchor doesn't insist the ocean change to accommodate the whim of the ship. It doesn't even come close to touching the bottom. It's just a weight, so heavy and positioned in just the right place that the ship doesn't move. In case you aren't seeing it because of my inability to get this out of my brain and into this blog:
God is the ocean
I am the ship
Hope is the anchor
Ship: oh wow look at me, I'm so big compared to everything else (insert "Condescending Wonka Face" here)
God: There is no way to measure me. I may as well be infinity. In fact, every drop in this ocean holds infinity.
Ship: Oh...
God: Don't get upset now. Here, let me give you this anchor of hope to hold you steady within me. Just because I love you...
I think that's why I've always instinctively loved the line in How He Loves "if grace is an ocean, we're all sinking" (see the top of every blog I've ever written...yeah...) Comparing God to a body of water is always what I go back to. In fact, the longest poem I've ever written is all about jumping into God, as represented by the ocean.
Man, the more I write the more I want this tattoo. I'll probably never do it, but if I ever decide to I'll at least have this written down, right?
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