Carrying the Light: An Eastertide Sparks in the Dark Journey

The other day, I was watching TV, and a clip from Jerusalem caught my attention.
People were gathered, some holding candles, others carrying torches, as a flame was brought out from what is believed to be the tomb of Jesus—a tradition that has been carried on for more than a thousand years.

The light was passed from person to person—one flame becoming many.
Something in me paused.
It felt quiet, sacred, alive.

And I found myself wondering:
What does it mean to carry that kind of light?

We thought resurrection would feel like arrival—like everything finally makes sense, like peace that stays, like the “happily ever after” we have been waiting for. After walking through Lent—through returning, ashes, and longing—I thought maybe this was it: living in resurrection, living in dynamis power.

But I found myself still asking questions. Like Mary Magdalene in the garden—seeing but not recognizing. Like the disciples, returning to what they knew, unsure what resurrection life actually looks like.

And I found myself asking: How do I live this resurrection life? What does it mean to carry this light… in this kind of world?

Maybe resurrection is not the end of the journey, but the beginning of learning how to live it.

Because the world didn’t suddenly become easy. There is still uncertainty, still distraction, still darkness that feels very real. And somehow, resurrection doesn’t remove us from it—it meets us inside of it.

Easter doesn’t end the story. It begins a movement. A tide.

Lately, I have been drawn back to that image—a flame carried out from the tomb, passed from one person to another. Maybe that’s what this season is: not just witnessing the light but learning to carry it.

And somehow, we find ourselves holding a small light, learning what it means not just to receive it, but to carry it into the world.

I’ll be honest—I didn’t step into Eastertide right away. Resurrection felt quieter than I expected, and life didn’t slow down for me to take it in.

I’m still learning how to live it.

So, I find myself entering this season midstream—not at the beginning, but somewhere in the flow. And maybe that’s how Eastertide meets us. A tide doesn’t wait for us to be ready; it carries us when we step in.

For the next few weeks, I want to continue Sparks in the Dark in a simpler, gentler way: a short podcast each week and one creative reflection to follow—something you can carry with you into your commute, your work, your ordinary days.

We will follow the movement of resurrection as it unfolds: from receiving the light, to recognizing the voice, to letting go, to being sent.

And as we move toward Pentecost, I’m also holding the idea of gathering together for a small, creative online retreat—
a space to pause, to move, to notice, to listen, and to recognize the fire we are now carrying.

I’ll share more soon.

So, if you are just stepping into Eastertide too, you’re not behind.

You’re right on time

Sparks in the Dark — Eastertide Podcast Intro
A small beginning for a new season.

You can also follow and listen on Spotify here
I’m looking forward to walking this Eastertide journey with you.
New episodes are released weekly.