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Marked

I have a tattoo. These days, that’s not a big deal. When I first started talking about getting one, the look I got from my grandparents said they’d pretty much disown me if I did something as rebellious as get a tattoo. That was me. The rebellious one. I still am. Sort of. But now I’m not at all the only grandkid with a tattoo (but let’s remember that I was the first!).

I’m marked. Permanently. That thing ain’t going nowhere. My eighteen month old niece can scratch and paw at that thing until the cows come home, but it’s still going to be there.

He put his mark on us to show that we are his, and he put his Spirit in our hearts to be a guarantee for all he has promised.

2 Corinthians 1:22 (NCV)

Just like my tattoo that is a permanent mark on my flesh, God has also made His mark on me. I am His. He is mine. How do I know this? His Spirit living within me is His guarantee. It is his marker.

If you’ve never see the old musical Guys and Dolls, watch it. Yes, I know it’s all about gambling (in the sewer even), but there is something to be said about someone’s marker. To hold a marker means that you hold something over someone until that person has made good on whatever promise has been made on that marker. To hold a marker is a guarantee that you have something coming to you.

The Holy Spirit is God’s marker for us. We hold on to it knowing that it is worth everything God has promised us and, like Sky Masterson, God always makes good on His markers.

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