Not the only flame. But the one that found me.
In Jesus Is My Mirror, I shared how I stopped seeing Jesus as a distant figure—someone to be worshipped or explained—and began to see Him as a reflection of the life I was slowly learning to live.
What I didn’t say then is what I saw in that mirror.
It wasn’t a rulebook.
It wasn’t an ideal.
It was a spark.
The Nature of a Spark
A spark is not a steady flame.
It doesn’t burn to be seen.
It doesn’t last.
It appears. It responds. It disappears.
A spark doesn’t try to stay lit.
It doesn’t force itself on the moment.
It simply becomes what the moment calls for.
Sometimes a spark is warmth—offering comfort, illumination, quiet presence.
Other times it’s disruption—a flicker that burns through illusion or inertia.
It can light a path. It can set a bridge on fire.
Not to destroy. But to reveal.
A spark doesn’t decide what catches.
It only honors its nature.
It shows up.
It ignites.
It becomes.
Jesus, the Spark
This is how I came to see Jesus.
Not as someone building legacy.
But as someone fully alive—fully attuned to what the moment required.
He was tender with the wounded.
Fierce with the powerful.
Silent when silence was sacred.
He wept. He washed feet. He overturned tables.
He held space for those who were dismissed.
He challenged those who used religion to control.
Jesus didn’t come to preserve His own light.
He came to respond—to each moment, each person, each need.
That’s what made Him eternal.
Not that He demanded worship.
But that He lived as a spark—present, responsive, whole.
Other Sparks Across Time
And once I saw Jesus this way, I began to notice something else:
He was not alone.
The spark has moved through many voices, many forms, many lands.
- The Buddha, who sat still until suffering transformed
- Moses, called by fire and led by liberation
- Krishna, who taught through joy and divine play
- Muhammad, who surrendered to the gravity of sacred word
- Sophia, divine wisdom in feminine form, ever moving
- Lao Tzu, flowing through paradox and presence
- Zarathustra, who lit moral clarity with fire—good thought, good word, good deed
These weren’t copies. They were echoes.
Flares of the same light, refracted through time and place.
Each a spark—not claiming divinity as ownership but expressing it as response.
Each burning long enough for others to remember they were never truly in the dark.
The Spark Within Us
These weren’t just sacred figures.
They were sparks—fully alive in their moment, fully attuned to what was needed.
Their power wasn’t control. It was presence.
They moved with integrity.
They responded with courage.
They listened until listening became a way of life.
And if the spark keeps showing up—across time, across traditions—
maybe the point was never to cling to the flame.
Maybe the point was to recognize it.
Not to become them.
But to become ourselves, lit from within.
That’s what Jesus taught me.
Not how to be Him.
But how to burn true.
It took me time to understand what that meant.
Years, really.
Because becoming a spark isn’t a decision.
It’s a descent.
Through usefulness.
Into grace.
Toward essence.
That’s what I’ll explore next.