Recently I read an article about the deeds of a tattoo artist.
I never thought it would put a tear in my eye.
The reasons for my emotions are two-fold.
#1-- His story is a cool one.
#2 --I want to have a story like that.
You wouldn't know it by looking at him but tattoo artist Chris Baker, a well-inked, tough-looking dude ya wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley, actually has a heart for the less fortunate.
A year ago he had an idea: to cover or remove the branding tattoos of former gang members and sex trafficking victims at no charge. A year since, his idea was so well-received he was invited to attend the US State Department's international meeting on Trafficking Persons. His idea, coming from a talent he already has, and from a heart that reflects his love of God, has grown bigger than anything he thought possible, and has resulted in his founding of a ministry called Ink 180.
Chris and I share a love for Jesus and a desire to help the less fortunate. But that is where the similarities end. He and I don't share the same talent. It has taken me decades to figure out what mine are, and I still only have general ideas. I feel like a "jack of all trades but master of none."
When I read a success story like this one, my emotions are at play because Chris embodies (tats and all) an ideal I want to live up to:
An everyday gal using her resources and talents she already owns, to share her blessings and somehow provide a better life to others in the name of Jesus.
Don't get me wrong. I am not going around searching for the meaning of life.
I like what I do, and I know it is worthwhile.
And my ministry to my family is foremost and has been full of successes and blessings indeed.
But reading stories like Chris's gives me an itch. A desire that there is more I could or should be doing.
I believe the most golden ideas are simple ones; ones that use the resources and talents already at hand, like Chris did.
It is a special person, indeed, that must move mountains to get the job done. That person I will never become.
Which is why I love reading about the everyday guy or gal who whispers an idea in his basement, only for it to grow into a voluminous shout to the persons who matter.