Winter Brainstorm

(Fair warning: My mind is all over the place tonight. I'm writing anyway. There's a point at the end, but it's sharp. Don't cut your finger.)

So My husband just answered the phone, "What's up, Sparkles." Now I'm not naming any names, but I know who you are, and the next time I see you, you're totally keeping that nickname, "Sparrrrklllles." (Um, it's a man. Ha!) 

"Sparkler" by Gabriel Pollard - Own work. Licensed under CC BY-SA 2.5 via Wikimedia Commons

So if you want a new nickname, just call the Preacher. He's got 'em in spades.

I've already told you what he called me the first time he. . . well, the first time he called me, right? It was nice. A lot nicer than being called "hot" or whatever the thing is now. 

Seriously, was Mona Lisa hot? No. Was she classically beautiful? Has she been admired for her mystique and dignity through the ages? Yep. So maybe hot's not so hot after all. 

Which reminds me, today on Good Morning America I noticed patterned leggings/tights/crazy pants are the new "hot" thing to work out in. Like, people sweat in them. In tights. Let me ask you this: Do you wear colorful leggings to work out? Do your legs turn hot pink to match them? (They never seem to answer my burning questions on GMA.) Let me know.

I don't wear leggings when I exercise. Maybe that's why I'm not a gym person - that, and the fact that I'm constantly grumbling, "I hate you, you sadistic freak," to the DVD instructor. (Oops! Full disclosure, folks.) Just imagine me at the gym. Are hecklers allowed in Zumba? I'd probably be arrested, and you'd have to bail me out of the slammer. 

Photo Credit

Speaking of the slammer, have you ever been there? You can tell me. I'll keep it a secret. I never have (um, knock on wood), but I wonder if it's like they show on TV. If you've been there, can you answer that? Is it a couple metal beds with a ratty sink and um, other things out in the open? Please advise. 

I really do want your advice on this. But I've noticed in life, most people aren't looking for advice, even when they ask for it. Most people are looking for support. Most people want to know they're not alone. 

When we know we're not alone, hope burns up despair.

Photo credit

Yesterday, the Preacher told me despair was one of the seven deadly sins because it meant an absence of faith. Lack of faith or lack of hope - I'm not sure which despair is. Maybe both. But I do know the emptiness of wanting something I didn't have and feeling like I'd never have it.

But then hope's a stubborn little dandelion, isn't it? It tends to grow back. Courage overcomes despair like dawn breaks the night. In creation, time and movements change things. Seasons. Years. Even us.

Tertullian said, "Hope is patience with the lamp lit," and I feel it that way, too. Sometimes hope's the only thing that keeps us warm, the only light we have. And mostly it comes through people. It comes through you and me. We carry the spark of hope because we carry the Image. 

And even a small spark can build a blazing hope, 
if we open our lamps to receive it. 

Moving from Sparkles to Flame, 
Becki*