A Marked Man

So, he went and did it. I didn't think he'd have the guts, I didn't trust that he would think it was worth the pain, and maybe humiliation if he were to pass out...but he did. He thinks our family is worth it. He truly does love us.

Dad has a tattoo! That's not even why I'm proud of him. I think it's wonderful that he did this, more for us than for himself. He is choosing to wear his heart on his sleeve, literally.

I'm proud of him for showing our family the love of Christ, through the little things. I was born to a father who loves unconditionally, even if you have to look a little.

All the small things: hugs, laughs, favors....they add up to his love for us.

He may go to Vermont to help Sam out for a weekend, or he might pick me up a snack when Jim's working late...again. Maybe he buys Mom flowers, and it's not even their anniversary. Or he goes over and above what is needed for volunteering at the fire department. He might watch the kids, or just sit there with one of them at 5 in the morning when they can't sleep. I'm proud of this man for not smoking in eight months. For his servitude for others, even when they don't seem to deserve it. For giving and actually enjoying it more than receiving.

I am humbled that he trusts Sam and I to follow in his footsteps when it comes to commitment and marriage. He obviously trusts that we will forever be married to our other halves. Through thick and thin, we will choose to turn back to one another. He wouldn't have permanently printed them on his skin otherwise.

I was blessed with an example of Christ-like love today. My Father chose to scar his body for me, for my family. He knew it would hurt, but he did it anyways. He chose love over pain. Scars over blemish free skin. Does this sound like anyone you know? May He bless you. (I'll upload more pictures tomorrow .)