My tattoos and the story behind each one.


Tattoos. Ink. Whatever you want to call them. A topic that comes up often in my world. How many tattoos do you have? Do they mean something? Are you getting anymore?

My choice to have tattoos is very personal. I actually covered that in a blog post in 2013 – so rather than reiterate my “why” here is the link, or click HERE.

Instead, I’m going to visually walk you through my tattoos. I am so fortunate to have an incredibly gifted and talented photographer living in my home…for another week…sigh. I’m going to use and abuse her to steal as much time with her as I can.

I thought I would go in order….It’s a lot of photos…be forewarned :) 

Number 1 – I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine – Song of Solomon 6.3

hebrew tattoo song of solomon i am my beloved's

Number 2 – Child of God in Hebrew – that story

hebrew tattoo child of God depression tattoo

Depression sucks. There are no nice words to say about it. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.
I think I suffered with depression my whole life. But I wasn’t diagnosed until my third child was born. Then they labeled it “post partum”. But the more knowledge I have. The more I realize that depression has been a part of my life since I was very small.
I have always pondered so deeply. Bore the weight of the world, so to speak, so heavily. Sometimes it would feel like I was drowning. I would feel so desperate about everything it was paralyzing. I just didn’t know THAT was depression.
Once diagnosed the medication helped, a lot. But after years of consuming something to dull the pain, it stopped working. The desperate feeling was swallowing me. It was affecting everything. I decided to get counseling.
This was almost 2 years ago now. The journey was VERY long, and hard and emotional. Not just for me, but for everyone around me. When I look back I can hardly believe that WAS me. I felt absent from my body. I felt so very alone. But I worked hard. I fought. I was determined to beat this very real thing that threatened to take over my life. Or worse…to take my life.
Daily thoughts of suicide consumed me. I planned everything. Then I would scream out to God to save me from myself…but I thought He wasn’t listening. He was. He would give me little snippets of hope. Little glimmers to grasp onto and pull me back to reality.
I realized He was holding me in the palm of His hand. He cared more than I could imagine. But I needed a daily reminder. I wanted to be reassured. I did not want to get so desperate as to do something stupid. So I gave myself a reminder. A permanent one.
I had the words tattooed to my wrist… CHILD OF GOD. I AM a daughter of the King. He created me. He cares for me. Even if NO ONE else does. And EVERY time I see my tattoo I smile and feel that reassurance.
This is my story in a nutshell. A very tiny nutshell.
When I received a set of Hebrew stamps, it only made sense to create a less permanent symbol of my favorite tattoo. Maybe you need the reminder to know you belong to someone greater than you. Someone who cares when the rest of the world turns it back. YOUR life is too precious. Too sacred. Do you know that? Do you know whose you are?