Permanent Ink and Singing Stars

There are a lot of things I need to blog about - I did a very, very poor job of communicating with people this summer.  So I will spend the next few weeks attempting to get updated with all things new and exciting (or old and repetitive) in my life, but only one at a time.  Given, however, the new (and apparently surprising) addition to my person, I think the first thing to address ought to be my new tattoo. 

Yes, I got a tattoo.  Yes, my parents know (do you really think I'm stupid enough to post about it on my blog if my parents didn't know?).  No, they don't really "approve" per se, but they did give me permission before I got it (yes, I also know that I'm 20 and don't technically need their approval... but I wanted it.  Get over it). 

It's a, well, let's call it unique tattoo, to be certain.  I've gotten a lot of funny looks when I show it to people.  So, I think I ought to figure out an eloquent way to articulate it, even if only for myself. Here you go:

If you haven't read The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint-Exupery, first, you ought to go get it from the library and read it (or from me), it's a wonderful book, and secondly, my tattoo may still make no sense to you, even after reading this.  So just go read it.  The Little Prince is my favorite book, given to me by a very dear friend at a moment in my life when I needed a reminder of it's themes and ideas.  To recap, the story goes something like this:

It's narrated by an adult who, when he was a child, he wanted to be an artist.  But the adults didn't understand his drawings (a drawing of a boa constrictor eating an elephant, which was mistaken for a cowboy hat), and so told him to give up art and pursue something "practical" and "meaningful".  The man became a pilot, but always lamented not cultivating his artistic skill. 

The story begins when the man crashes his plane in the Sahara Desert.  During his attempts to rebuild his plane, a golden haired boy appears out of nowhere and asks the man to draw him a sheep.  This young boy is the Little Prince.  The narrator insists that he cannot draw a sheep, but draws him his snake instead.  The prince recognizes it for what it really is, which surprises the man, but he still insists upon his sheep.  As the story progresses, the man slowly uncovers the story of the young boy... He lived on his own planet (Asteroid B-612), along with 3 volcanoes and a vain rose with whom the Little Prince is in love.  The Prince, eventually disillusioned with his Planet, left to visit other planets to try to find companionship and purpose.  Along the way he encounters a variety of adults (6, on 6 other planets, to be exact) who seem to be living their lives in ridiculous and/or roundabout manners, which confuses and discourages the prince. Eventually, he gets to Earth.  He finds a field of roses, and at once decides he is never returning to his flower - he thought his rose was a one-of-a-kind, but here in front of him were a field of roses that looked just like her.   

As the story progresses, the boy and the man become good friends, and through the course of a few days, while the man fixes his plane, his relationship with the Prince convinces the boy to return home.  It was his love that tamed the flower, that made her unique, not her outward being, and he ought to treasure that.  The man helped the Prince get back to his asteroid, and in the process experienced the gain and loss of a friend.  In the loss of his dear friend, he discovered that he never could look at the stars the same way - he swore that he had special stars, that he could hear them laughing with him whenever he was lonely, because he knew the Little Prince was up there, loving his flower and missing his adult friend. 

Only a few people have actually asked me why I bothered to get something so seemingly childish and trivial permanently inked on my body, but I can see the question lingering in almost everyone I show it to, so here goes: 

The snake and the desert sky are the first and last illustrations of the book, which make for nice symmetry in my mind (silly, but true).  The snake is a reminder to always be captivated by a childlike sense of wonder.  One of my favorite things about God is how big he is - it was one of the first things I fell in love with.  He often turns something that looks like one thing into an entirely different something, and better thing; one only has to be able to see it in a manner of wonder and limitless conception (imagination, if you will, although nothing of God is of imagining, it is of the utmost reality).  The rose is a reminder that my identity, my uniqueness and my worth are all founded in the love of Christ.  Not in my outward, physical being - not in my skills or my beauty or my abilities, but solely in the love of Christ.  The desert scene from the end is a reminder that in allowing my identity to be shaped by God, I can shape others.  I can be a vessel through which God loves others, and begins to transform them.  I can give others singing stars, so to speak.  And I can have laughing stars in the way I allow others to love me.  To be vulnerable and honest is the only way in which we can develop true relationships. 

Perhaps a bit deep for a childrens' book, yes?  But I don't think the book was written for children at all.