Why I Got Two Tattoos

Some of you may have seen in person or on social media that I now have two simple wrist tattoos. I said at some point I’d share the story/meanings behind them, and well, here we are.
You may be wondering why? (don’t worry, so was my mother for the longest time).

Well, it started when I was a young girl, truly.
You see, when my dad was diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer and given months to live, along the whole journey my family held onto hope. It was our mantra, our battle cry, our reassurance, our phrase, our word, our whispered plea, and sometimes angered/confused shout. Hope in Christ for today, tomorrow, and eternity is what we desperately held onto, and often along the journey it felt like we were trying to grip sand in our fists only to find it slipping through our fingers. As time progressed and my dad’s body continued to break down and people all across the globe cried out to God on his behalf, something changed in our family, we had a knowing melancholy, but a growing confidence. What I mean by that is, I think we knew...in our heart of hearts we saw the proverbial writing on the wall that my dad wasn’t going to be physically around very much longer. It wasn’t that we lost faith or confidence in God and His healing power, in fact, it was quite the opposite, but our perspective and our hope shifted, then our trust in God flourished. Because we started focusing on that ‘eternity’ piece in what we believed of hope, we embraced the truth that my dad would be healed, whether here on earth or the other side of heaven, but he would be healed, no doubts. That didn’t make things magically better, we lost my dad to cancer just 6 short months after his terminal diagnosis, our lives were completely upended, a handful of us in my family (myself included) have suffered from ongoing depression and well, life is hard - so, believing in, striving towards, and even tattooing ‘Hope’ didn’t make everything better, but it does help make it worth it. I firmly believe that even a sliver of hope can help someone conquer the greatest foes and live through the darkest days. Hope is a powerful force that cannot be vanquished, even when we lose sight of it.

Now, what about the other one?
Yes, there is another one and it’s in latin: ‘Coram Deo’ which means ‘In the Presence of God’ or ‘God Sees’. This has been my personal mantra since I was in jr. high. I don’t know where I read it or how I came to know what it meant but ask any who knew me back in jr. high knew I wrote it on EVERYTHING. Being ‘in the presence of God always’ is an equally humbling, terrifying, awe inspiring, and comforting thought, for me it was something that was unchanging and always there. It was a safe space in a time in my life when I felt so especially alone and that has carried through the years. When life changes, dreams are lost, and people leave, God, His Throne room, and His presence are always there. To me, it means being at His feet always, being in a space I absolutely and without question do not deserve to be able to even think about, yet He lets me come, yet He lets me linger, yet He lets me stay. It’s unknown yet good, for in the words of Mr. Beaver talking about Aslan (a literary representation of God in a children’s series) from C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia:

““Safe?” said Mr Beaver...”Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.””

— C.S. Lewis "The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe"

So truly, WHY get ink permanently stabbed into my body? :)
I can look at them at all times and have the reminders of what they represent. Besides the meaning, the most important part of these for me is the font. Hope is a mix of my dad’s handwriting and mine and Coram Deo is a mix of my mom’s handwriting and mine. Sometimes when people are on the other side of heaven, over the years memories of traits of who they are start to fade in our minds, handwriting can be one of those. That’s why it was so important to include my dad’s handwriting to never lose the memory of it again. My mom and my dad both have always been the most influential people in my life and to have not only their handwriting on me, but words that represent the foundational truths they helped guide me towards and learn to love is so incredibly special to me.
Tattoos aren’t for everyone, but these are special for me.

-Hannah

1 Year Of Mediocre Photography

The photo that started it all, about a year ago. Photo by: Hannah Porter

A day passed a bit ago that marked my 1 year of my journey back to photography. I refer to it as a ‘journey back’ because when I was at the ages of 9-17 yrs I was in a fairly consistent stage of being actively interested in picturing the world through a world of pictures. During and after that, a few more of life’s circumstances knocked me down and beat me up and I lost interest in a lot things in life, I lost interest in the beauty of the world, and with that, photography. Some things are phases, others are ongoing curiosities, and still others are lifelong loves. Music is one of those lifelong loves, and though I didn’t fully realize it in those ‘lost years’ of when I wasn’t photographing anything, photography is a lifelong love as well.

I’m what most would call “a creative”, and throughout my life that creativity and imagination has manifested itself in many hobbies, passions, pursuits, interests, and goals. Let’s take a little gander at some other ways my creativity has shown itself throughout the years. Brace yourselves.
 

-My Jewelry making phase: well, I can’t say it was the worst you’d ever seen, but I will say you probably wouldn’t pay 50 cents at a flea market for it. Like, you’d choose a dolphin necklace with yellow jewels for eyes over my jewelry.

-My acrylic painting phase: y’all, this was not my best effort in life, let’s just say it was…abstract.

-My crocheting phase: I’m pretty sure I made two beanies and called it a day.

-My sewing phase: two pillows and I was out, and I’m pretty sure I ‘taped’ one of the pillows and didn’t even finish sewing it.

-My soap making phase: I tried it once, got a headache, didn’t ever try it again, ever.

-My Wire sculpting/design phase: well, I don’t know where the inspiration for this came from, but I made some elven looking bracelets and rings and then realized I needed to get out more.

-My cooking phase: There was a time in my life when I was a wee lass, that I pretended (with a friend of mine) to have a cooking show (just like Rachel Ray, of course, I mean, who doesn’t love some EVOO?) and let me tell you, we got creative (thanks moms for putting up with us).

-My wood-carving phase: To be honest, I can’t say I’m totally out of this phase, it might just be an ongoing curiosity, but I used to whittle away at wood for hours. Greatest accomplishment: a very very rough miniature acoustic guitar, that kind of looked like stand up bass. Win.

-My drawing phase: Again, I still do this from time to time, but let’s just say I’m much better with ink, graphite, and pastels than I am with paint. I’ll leave that kind of art to my friends who are brilliant at it.

-My poetry phase: Y’all I used to be BIG into poetry. Like, all day, err day, writing poetry. I even won some dinky little awards for some of my poems. Eventually this phase turned into writing lyrics (for music).

-My ‘spy’/detective phase: Again, this is less of a phase and became more focused with time. Eventually it manifested itself in a love and appreciation for Law Enforcement and wanting to be that or wanting to help them help others (Chaplaincy). But when I was little, I would pack my backpack full of everything I might possibly need to solve a mystery/crime (including little plastic baggies for evidence...I was serious, y’all) and would ride my bike down our road, set for an adventure.

-My novel writing phase: This is probably my least advertised, but longest running creative outlet. I have written a novel before and still to this day have multiple other books in the works as well. Before you ask, no, I do not have a copy of said completed novel anymore, it was lost in translation in the days of floppy disks and giant desktops.
-My acting phase: this was extremely short lived, as in, one play, one part, 3 lines. Turns out, I’m a pretty extreme introvert and really didn’t like acting, music was one thing, but I left the acting gig up to my sister, she’s great at it. :)
 

Many of these, if not all of them were building blocks towards something else, or building relationships with others who were actually good at the things I failed miserably in. Each and every one of those strange phases taught me valuable lessons about life and about myself, even if it was just about knowing my own boundaries or needing more patience. More importantly, at the time, they all made me express something, something that maybe only I knew, but I was able to get it out in that brush stroke, stitch, piece of wood, melody played, words strung together, lines drawn, etc. Those short term phases helped me discover, realize, understand, and more deeply appreciate my lifelong loves.

When I picked up my camera again for the first time in years and raised it to my eye, I didn’t just see the small frame in front of me, I saw the world in an entirely new light. In those moments of seeking the right angle and shooting what I saw, I thought less about my own dreary circumstances, less about the state of the world, and less about depressive matters all together. No, photography was and is not a cure-all, but, what it did do was open my eyes to the tremendous beauty all around me, the opportunities that I was missing out on, and majesty of God’s glory. Yes, photography did all of that for me, not because the camera had special magic in it or because I had fancy equipment (I didn’t and still don’t), but because God opened my eyes, expanded my horizons, shifted my perspective, and gave me HOPE.
 

Beth and I talk about Hope In The Darkness often here on ATN, but we aren’t just talking about something existential or general, we talk about all of these journeys and feelings through the lens of experience and reality. Hope has been an anchor in our family, sometimes it is the anthem and battle cry, other times it is the only word that can be torn from the depths of our soul in distress, and still other times it is merely a whisper in the silence in the midst of chaos. It might come through cooking, baking, drawing, coloring, writing, crocheting, running, chopping wood, painting, making music, DIY-ing, exercising, reading, hiking, communing with friends, swimming, whittling, or riding bikes, however you find it, ferociously latch onto that sliver of hope and DON’T let it go. Foster that sliver of hope, blow on the embers, fan it’s flame and desperately hold onto it. It may feel small and even feeble, but I promise you, someone with even just a sliver of hope can change the world, one small gesture, short phase, or perspective shifting moment at a time. Find your equivalent of what music and photography are for me and make time and space for them in your life. They are healthy, they are good, they are necessary. Take time to look at those things, whatever they may be, from a different perspective, from your unique perspective. A million people can be doing the same thing as you, but those million other people aren’t in your circumstances, don’t have your thought process, don’t have your heart, and simply, aren’t you. YOU have some unique perspective, and consequently, unique hope, that the world desperately needs in this time. Do it because you love it and it inspires you, and because it makes you a better human, but remember, it just might be able to inspire someone else too. So, from my 1 year of mediocre photography inspiring me to do another year, and another many years after that, may you find that for yourself and be as in awe of God’s goodness, and as encouraged as I am. You are beautifully creative in your own way, explore it, find it, express it, share it.

-Hannah

One of my most recent pictures. Photo by Hannah Porter