One More Thing...

I was sitting in church today enjoying the spirit being shared from the pulpit. We always sit up near the front (second row, to be exact) because I like to be able to hear what's being said and in our church, there are so many precious little ones that if I sit in the back, I'm easily distracted...anyway...my hubs cute cousin, Erica, who is 18 and her friend came and sat with us. Just before the sacrament was about to be blessed and passed, she leaned over and said, "Did you see Tyler's new tattoo?"...my first thought was, "Are you KIDDING ME????" She realized that I hadn't been made aware that my son had gotten his 3rd tat...she promptly produced a Facebook picture of his latest saying freshly and permanently marked across his chest...then she immediately felt bad. Now let me just state for the record: I have nothing against tattoos...no judgments here...I just know how permanent they are and know that some companies will not hire with any VISABLE tattoos...

I had about 10 minutes of quiet solitude to just think, contemplate and pray...I did just that.

Then something amazing happened to me. I was overcome by love! I thought of our Savior and how he loves all of us SO completely and unconditionally. He loves you, me and my tattooed son...and then I felt this warm peace wrap my soul. I actually felt ashamed of myself for feeling bad about the stupid tattoo...my heart turned to my boy. My sweet boy who has overcome one of the most hideous addictions ever. My boy who has turned his heart to God and strives to live a life of service to his fellowmen/women. My boy who is kind, generous, sweet, funny, strong, intelligent and compassionate.

What really matters here?? I HAVE MY SON BACK!! That's ALL I really care about and it's what I have spent many sleepless night pleading with my Heavenly Father for...He has answered my prayers and it HAS to be good enough! Shame on me...

I thought about the times I was in pure agony, overcome with the deepest worry imaginable because my son was on the streets, strung out, cold and alone. I thought of the days spent preparing to bury my son who, I thought, would inevitably be dead by the age of 20. I thought of the physical pains I experienced during my darkest hours consumed with dread every time the phone rang...it was by far the worst time of my life..but that is in the past. I came through it and God blessed me beyond anything I could have imagined.

I am thankful that a tattoo needle is the ONLY needle going into his body. So despite his tattoos, I am a grateful, blessed mother who is proud of her son. I am humbled at the grace and mercy of a loving Heavenly Father who sees beyond tattoos, sees all and knows all. Who am I to judge? I love this boy with all of my heart and soul. I am even thankful for the trust that the Lord has placed in me to help a son of God survive a monstrous trial. I am proud of the amazing accomplishments of my son and he has taught me more than I could ever have imagined...