Connecting With An Old Friend

Today. I went into a tattoo parlor for my tattoo I’ve been wanting forever to cover up scars from hurting myself as a teenager. A compass, but instead of North- South, I have my kids initials. 

The tattoo artist opened her shop early just for me. We chatted as she drew out the design. After a moment, she grew silent before blurting out, 'You know, you remind me of someone I used to know.'

I looked at her carefully. Two of us from such different worlds. 'Where did you know her from?' I asked. 
She took in a deep breath. 'From a hospital.' She said.

I felt a tingle down my spine… the one that tells you something big is about to happen. 'What hospital?' I asked. 

She named the one that takes suicidal teens. My mouth dropped open. 'I was there too.'

She screamed, 'I knew it!' And grabbed me in the biggest bear hug ever.

Yes. She was there. When I was a teen. When the scars on my arm were fresh and covered in gauze. And now, she was the one to put the tattoo over them that says “Sozo”— healed, whole.

I look at it now… My arm, a place that once represented hopelessness now represents love… More beauty from ashes than I could have ever dreamed. It reminds me that God was with me then, knew me then, (I know, kind of 'duh' but it still hit me hard) even though I didn't know about him.