Radical Saint

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I had the opportunity last month to speak at two retreats. The socio-economic back grounds of the two groups were very different. One group of women was definitely suburban and pretty homogenous. The other group of women was an odd mixture of privileged women, who were well educated, and underprivileged women who had grown up fast and hard.

Speaking to groups has not been something I chose to do, but it is something God has called me to do. Not in my comfort zone behind my computer keyboard, or chatting with a friend over coffee, but in front of people. Why? Because he wants me to talk about Jesus. As I stood nervously before the second group, I thought about how I looked to the younger women. Foreign. Churchy.

I noticed one of the women I’d been introduced to earlier sitting in front of me. She was noticeably pregnant and had broken shackles and the words “Set Free” tattooed on the back of her hands. I recalled how I’d made a quick judgment about her when I first saw her, based on her appearance, until I overheard her tell another woman, “I was a radical sinner and I want to be a radical saint!”

I was ashamed at that moment, because I was in the presence of a sister who loved her Savior so much that she had tattooed what He’d done for her for all the world to see-right out there in front- on her hands.

Encouraged by her boldness, I began speaking about the same Savior. I didn’t have a tattoo to show, so I showed them what Jesus has done in my heart, and what He’s still doing. I want to be a radical saint, just like the sister who has “set free” tattooed on her hands!

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