Whose Children?
The spark lives like Christ—unbound, present, and true.
The cover asks permission—waiting to be allowed to live.
Coherence is the original state. Everything else is drift.
The spark lives like Christ—unbound, present, and true.
The cover asks permission—waiting to be allowed to live.
What if the spark doesn’t disappear—only changes form? A reflection on how grace is embodied in people, remembered in stories, and carried across time.
I was born into a name I didn’t understand and formed in a path that taught me how to see.
What felt separate was never apart—only distant.
A reflection on how life unfolds through form—dot, circle, line, triangle, square—and how awareness introduces separation, scale introduces burden, and return restores our capacity to hold.
Not a path forward, but a pattern we live through—again and again.
This spark surfaced while I was serving as lector during worship, reading 1 Samuel 16:1–13 aloud.
Sometimes the songs we sing badly stay with us the longest. “Have Thine Own Way, Lord” was one of those for me—a melody I once mumbled through, now a prayer that shapes the way I live. What I missed in tune, I’ve learned in time: that grace doesn’t need perfection to be heard. It only asks that we stay soft enough to be shaped.
The Trinity is not only Father, Son, and Spirit—it is also written in us as love, forgiveness, and kindness. One eternal, one fragile; one source, one echo. Together they form the shape of infinity, with Christ at the crossing where heaven and humanity meet.
This past year has been one of letting go, following sparks, facing fear, and listening for whispers. Along the way I’ve remembered faith as my compass — Grace, Presence, and Spark — and begun to see life not as poles in opposition, but as the thread in between that makes us whole. Mid-life, I’ve found, is not a crisis but a crossing.
Time is not abundant — it is fragile, fleeting, and holy. This reflection explores what it means to serve not out of convenience but out of urgency, recognizing that life itself is the gift and how we spend it is the offering back.
We often talk about following Jesus—but what if he was never just a teacher, but a mirror? This piece explores how Christ’s life invites us to love the unloved self, forgive what we carry, and practice kindness not as performance, but as presence. Not religious. Not dogmatic. Just real.