no.
wait.
ness doesn’t ‘make sense’ regardless.
i got a tattoo.
wait.
what?
i’ve always wanted one but couldn’t decide what i wanted. i like words. in general. i would never want a design. the type of art i like doesn’t translate well to tattoos. sorry if i offend. but in general, i think most tattoos have a tendency to look cheesy and cartoony.
so on one random day last week i randomly landed on the greek word charis, which literally means, “that which affords joy, pleasure, delight, sweetness, charm, loveliness.” one shouldn't act out of peer pressure in these situations, pick the first cool word that looks kinda cool in some kind of cool language that doesn't necessarily have any meaning to me other than it somewhat pertains to the bible and the time period. i don't think i totally thought it through. wait. i know i didn't.
i don’t fully yet know the meaning of my tattoo. which has proved embarrassing on several occasions in its short lifespan. true or false: i told someone the language it was written in incorrectly. true. its not hebrew. and i fail to adequately recite the literal translation. which is beautiful in and of itself. not true when i fumble through it recalling, ‘something about joy and loveliness and grace…ness’
i seem to have confused the order, because its only after i’ve permanently embossed my wrist that i’ve begun mulling over these words and discovering what grace really means to me. ordinary people might see the importance of extensive research and thought prior to putting something permanent on his or her body. not how i operate.
grace has been a huge part of my life. its what orginally captured my heart. that i, the epitome of a selfish sinful brat, was trying (terribly unsuccessfully) to find some kind of lasting joy and escape from the path i was on. an otherwise hopeless situation, grace upset my human notion about merit, about what i deserved, and what is due as recompense. i was a prodigal daughter who lavishly lived my life with no consideration of anything or one and did (and do) not deserve a thing, but turned to a Father who welcomed me handsomely, lavishly pouring love and grace on me. and since then i’ve been on a path of merciful restoration.
i feel like that is the literal and obvious translation for grace-- that it describes the means by which humans are saved from the original sin, died for, and granted salvation. but i think what i want to remember when i look at my tattoo is the empowering presence in my life that continually works to enable me to do and be what i was created to do and be. i like the definition of divine grace as, ‘an indispensable gift from God for development, improvement, and character expansion.’ without God's grace, there are certain limitations, weaknesses, flaws, impurities, and faults humankind cannot overcome. at the same time i do not disregard the meaningful, more broad reference of God's gifts to humankind, including life, creation, and salvation. i do not want to ever forget the moment i allowed for His lavishing of grace upon me, but more so see it as a perpetual bestowing of gifts i do not deserve yet ceaselessly depend on.
to become the type of person that can change the world.
in turn providing me delight. loveliness. joy.
finally. i watched an amazing movie that made me want... a male fallen star?
[this is quote from a star, reincarnated into a girl...]
“You know when I said I knew little about love? That wasn't true. I know a lot about love. I've seen it, centuries and centuries of it, and it was the only thing that made watching your world bearable. All those wars. Pain, lies, hate... It made me want to turn away and never look down again. But when I see the way that mankind loves... You could search to the furthest reaches of the universe and never find anything more beautiful. So yes, I know that love is unconditional. But I also know that it can be unpredictable, unexpected, uncontrollable, unbearable and strangely easy to mistake for loathing, and... What I'm trying to say, Tristan is... I think I love you. Is this love, Tristan? I never imagined I'd know it for myself. My heart... It feels like my chest can barely contain it. Like it's trying to escape because it doesn't belong to me anymore. It belongs to you. And if you wanted it, I'd wish for nothing in exchange - no gifts. No goods. No demonstrations of devotion. Nothing but knowing you loved me too. Just your heart, in exchange for mine.”
stardust. watch it. now.
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