“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

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”. 

Lessons from Africa; One year HOME!

1 year. 1 year breaks down to 12 months, 365 days, 8,760 hours, 525,600 minutes, and 31, 536, 00 seconds…

But who’s counting?

1 year, 12 months, 365 days, 8,760 hours, 525,600 minutes, and 31, 536, 00 seconds…that’s how long my heart has been incomplete.  A very special piece of it missing. A piece that only one small spot on this entire globe, will ever fill. 

Today marks one year since my feet left African soil. 

Where has this year gone?

Today is July 27, 2016 but I remember July 27, 2015 ‘like it was yesterday’.  One year since the last rounds of hugs and smiles that are now only a memory captured on photos and instilled in my heart.  Throughout the hugs and tears of saying, “Goodbye” the main thought going through my head was, “Don’t cry Nikki”.  It was followed by, “Once you start, you won’t be able to stop.  Hold on just a little longer.  Cry them out on the plane and then ‘pretend’ everything is okay upon landing back in Canada”.

Truth is, I don’t honestly know if I ever truly cried the way I needed to…either on the plane or in the months/year that followed.  Yes, I had my moments.  My moments of, ‘what the *insert choice word here*’ followed by anger, hurt, pain and confusion.  Moments where culture shock really was too much (or so it seemed) for me.  Such as the time where I literally almost walked into the automatic doors at the local mall entrance.  Moments where I have gone, “Remember that time in Zambia when…” only to stop what I was saying because it dawned on me that no one at home will ever truly ‘get’ what I experienced.  Those were the moments of frustration and ‘forget about it, you wouldn’t understand anyways’ conversation ending comments.  There have also been moments where I’ve felt like giving the person before me a good ‘shake’ as I starred at them in utter disbelief at the idiotic, un-educated comment that just left their mouth.  Stunned and confused, I walked away silently praying, “Dear God, close my mouth before I say something I will regret…” 

However, I want to re-share something I wrote August 9, 2015 on a blog upon returning from Zambia. 

“I recall a conversation that I had during one of my last nights in Zambia.  I was really struggling with coming home.  How was I supposed to ‘let go’ of the people who had grown so very dear to my heart?  How was I supposed to ‘let them go’ knowing that I may never see them again?  How was I supposed to be ‘okay’ knowing the disease running rampaged through their bodies and that I couldn’t do anything about it?  How was any of this ok?

I was told something along these lines, “Nikki, it is not a matter of if you’re ‘ok’ with any of this.  It is a matter of knowing who God is and continuing to daily surrender your (my) life and the lives of the kids here (and those at home) to Him regardless of what is going on inside your heart.  God has ordained each and every moment and step along the way.  He brought you back to Zambia now for a reason and now your (my) job is ask yourself, ‘what is it that God is wanting you to learn from the people/kids here (in Zambia) in your life?  How is He using what you are feeling now, to stir you on through the gifts, passions, desires and heart in which He has given you?”

How is He using what I am feeling now, on July 27, 2016, to stir me on through the gifts, passions, desires and heart that He has given me?

There are some days in which I think I know the answer. Days in which I think I have it ‘all together” but then reality kicks me in the butt.

Truth is, I don’t know.

Most days, I am a complete mess that is struggling to stay above.  Most days consist of me still trying to figure out the answer to that question.

Yes, I have taken strides over this past year and yes, God continues to walk alongside me in the process as well.  If I’ve learned anything since I became a Jesus follower, it is that following Jesus is a lifelong process.  He is constantly refining us, shaping us into who He is calling us to be.  We are human.   

The reality is we will mess up and we will make mistakes…but there is ALWAYS ALWAYS Grace.

Words cannot express how incredible thankful I remain, for the opportunity God gave me to go back.  It truly was God ordained and driven…each and every step along the way.  Another example of He truly is the GOOD Father who knows us better than we ever will know ourselves.  He provides for us even when we are unaware of what our hearts truly need.  Returning to Zambia when I did, is just one example of this within my own life. 

So what was it that God specifically wanted me to learn from the people/kids in Zambia?  

I’ve realized that it is not so much what He wanted me to learn…rather it is what He wanted to DO within me.  Through my ‘kids’ at Grace, God began a powerful healing process within me.  A healing process that I never knew I needed, nor could I have imagined.  Through my ‘youth’ here at home, He continues that healing process in a way that is just as powerful as when He began.  There is no ‘secret formula’ nor is it ‘rocket science’.  It’s quite a simple process really.  Every day begins with a realization that every breath I take in that day, is a precious precious gift.  It is a gift I don’t deserve but it is a gift God has chosen to give me.  From there, I must do all I can to serve Him by serving others.  To LOVE Him by loving others; regardless of the situation.  Though the process is simple, the application is a lot hard and I know that I am not the same person today, as I was a year ago when I stepped off that plane back in Winnipeg.  I’ve changed and I have grown but I also know that the healing process He began over a year ago, is far from finished.  It’s a journey.  A life-long journey with Jesus that I know will continue to take me on crazy adventures here and now, and around this globe.

 

Thank Goodness I got the Creator of the Universe in the ‘drivers seat’ guiding me each and every step of the way!  Above all else, I am thankful to know my Creator.  He, who created me in HIS image, knows every single hair on my head and whose thoughts about me, outweigh the grains of sand, and whose ways are higher than mine and greater than mine ever will be.  

Thank you Jesus; for loving me the way only You can.