Jim Kast-Keat is a writer, speaker, pastor, and pathological optimist. Congratulations on finding his blog. Ten points for you. To find out more, head over to jimkastkeat.com and start exploring.
Occasional Thoughts
I'm always thinking, and sometimes I'm even writing.
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Sparklers Hurt.
One Fourth of July back in my Northeast Iowa days, my sister Bethany, my dad, and I were outside waving (and throwing) sparklers. I was eleven, so this was the best thing ever.
But then, for some still-unknown-to-this-day reason, Bethany decided to try something new with her sparkler: a heat test. And I was the subject of this experiment.While I was naively waving my handheld fireworks display, writing my name in the air again and again, Bethany came to where I was standing. She looked at me. I probably looked back, admiringly with little-brotherly love. Then she brought her actively-sparkling sparkler down, touching it to my wrist.Ouch.As an eleven year old, I didn't know how to react. Well, actually I did. I yelled and screamed and cried. Our dad heard this fiasco, came our way, saw me clutching my wrist, sobbing, and pointing accusatively at Bethany.Bethany got in trouble. I got ice cream.While this short story (and probably biased memory) portrays Bethany as a mean big sister, don't let this incident permanently taint your view of her. I was the little brother. I deserved any torment I received (except for the tickling). And Bethany and I actually had (and have) a great relationship with numerous "good" stories to outweigh the "bad." This one just happens to stand out - perhaps due to the faint scar I still carry on my wrist. And now every time I pick up a sparkler, I think of my loving sister who taught me one simple truth: sparklers hurt. -
About Jim Kast-Keat
Jim Kast-Keat is a writer, speaker, pastor, and pathological optimist. Congratulations on finding his blog. Ten points for you. To find out more, head over to 
