I'm nearly offended by terms 'slim' or 'slender' or 'my, you're thinner now.' Show me a thin lighthouse, and I'll show you a disaster.

I'm strong, sturdy, and grounded. I'm built for every weather, and remain undeterred by storms. Not disaffected, of course. But immovable - by the virtue of piercing faith from without, and time-tested grit from within.

I have accepted a growing calling that my primary thing in life is light-bringing. A light lit from within. Not a cozy chorus of candlelight; not a familiar zigzag of artisan light bulbs - rather, a solid, steady, straight, directed light of a towering lighthouse, calling home those lost, hopeless, doubtful, scared.

The mental image empowers me, and keeps me humble at the same time. I am nothing without a light house keeper, and I'm ever certain and grateful that mine is the real deal. That a light which Christ lights is dimmed by nothing and no one.

Shine on.