Renovatus

Renovatus means renovation in Latin. I've always thought it was a cool word. And sometimes, when I look back on the last several years of my life and see how far I've come and who I am today in comparison to who I was, say, 8 years ago, I realize that renovatus very accurately describes my journey.

I'm more open-minded today than I was then. I'm more confident by scores, and more independent. At the same time, I'm more dependent--on God, and that's a good thing. I have deeper and more meaningful relationships. I've explored new areas of interest and found that I love some things that I never would have before (peppers, the color pink, and running, for instance).

I've lived in six states, if "living" can count summers. I've gone to four schools. I've visited five countries.

I'm a totally different person today than I was eight years ago. And I love being who I am now in comparison to who I was then. It's like two different lives.

And there is a story to tell that brought on this contemplative mood.

Most of you know that my background is a quite conservative Christian upbringing. I've always considered myself to be pretty open-minded under the circumstances, and that fact never ceases to amaze me--my beliefs are so different from my family and my church. I'm kinda proud of that because I'm not really the kind of person who goes out of their way to be different, or go against the flow. (Perhaps it comes from the environment I grew up in. As a kid, being different wasn't just uncool. It was social suicide.)

I was reminded again of how far I've grown from my roots this week. I was sitting at the front desk at work when a student came in to meet with one of our faculty advisors. He asked me a question and turned to leave when I noticed that his forearm was entirely taken up by a tattooed cross.

Before I noticed the words had even left my lips, I found myself saying, "Hey, awesome tattoo."

I looked around to see who had spoken. To my knowledge, I don't like tattoos! Then I looked around for the blasphemy police. And then I smiled, because I hope that every day for the rest of my life I can continue to look at people who look or believe differently than I do and appreciate our differences.

It really was a nice tattoo.