Faithful Spirit

Divine Timing, Ancestral Fire, and the Faithful Spirit

At tonight's AA meeting, we had a beautiful and deeply spiritual session. “G” chose the topic: “The Timing of Divine Intervention.” As is tradition on Friday nights, there’s no time to prepare—just listen, reflect, and respond. It’s like Theatre Sports for the soul.

In my share, I spoke about how divine timing isn’t just about trusting when God acts—it’s also about accepting what He allows. Sometimes, you’re dealt a Full House. Other times, you’re dealt a hand so painful, so incomprehensible, it feels impossible to play. And yet, it’s still part of the plan.

I reflected on my own existence—how it was forged in hardship and divine mystery. My maternal GGGG-grandmother, Mary Butler, was imprisoned at age 14 in 1780s London for robbing a customer at the 'house of ill repute" where she earned a few pence to survive. She was shackled and forced aboard the Lady Juliana, a convict ship bound for Sydney Cove as part of the Second Fleet. Its purpose? To provide reproductive opportunities for soldiers and settlers in the fledgling colony of Australia.

On the other side of my lineage, my widowed paternal GGGG-grandmother struggled to survive the Irish Potato Famine. Her son, John Bresnehan, was deported to Van Diemen’s Land for the term of his natural life—for shooting at (but missing) an English tax collector and for operating an illicit still.

Generations later, I lost my business partner and dear friend, Peter Purtell—a man of substance who traded the first Australian dollar on the day it floated. He died of a massive heart attack in our office on 11 April 1999. The day after is funeral, I walked into the bush on my property and drank ten cans of beer by 9 a.m. That tragedy changed my career path, leading me into venture capital with a Jewish-owned fund—a chapter that brought both spiritual growth and dangerous freedom. Too much space. Too much money. Too many weekends lost to drinking in Melbourne, Sydney, LA, San Francisco, San Diego, Tijuana, and New York.

Tonight's meeting stirred all of this. On the rainy, moonless drive home, I thought about the bonfire I’m preparing to light on Saturday, 21 June—the winter solstice, the darkest day of the year in the Southern Hemisphere. I’ll invite AA members to gather around the flames for a brief meeting. And as the garage door closed behind me, a poem arrived—fully formed in my mind. My first ever.

The flames became a metaphor: for my ancestors’ resilience, for divine timing, for the genetic and sacred energy that has been gifted to me and flows through me. The poem speaks to surrender, to spiritual ignition, to the warmth we offer others when our own spirit is alive and visible. It’s about the ebb and flow of human effort and divine restraint. And it ends with a declaration of loyalty and light.

Faithful Spirit

With divine spark I awaken
Embers brew to feed the soul
Flickering flames connect and give life to a few
Many souls are warmed when the flames dance high
I ebb and flow when fed and stoked by human hand
God’s hand dampers me when the time is right
I am the spark, the embers, the flickering and dancing flames
I am your faithful Spirit

PART V SURRENDER, INVENTORY & GROWTH

A strong advocate for freedom, limited government, and enterprise-driven progress, Jason also draws deeply from his personal recovery journey—an experience that reshaped his life and fuels his commitment to growth, contribution, and principled living. Through writing, speaking, and service, he continues to learn, share, and speak with purpose.

I can be engaged (on a remunerated or volunteer basis) to sit on Boards, Committees, Advisory and Reference Group Panels, and to speak to Business, Community, and Youth groups. I’m also open to providing comment to media on topics where I have relevant experience or insight. Please feel free to make contact.