What It Means to Be a Harbor (And How to Love a Spark)

Have you ever walked away from a conversation and thought, "I don't know how they got that out of me, but I'm glad they did"? That is a Harbor at work. And if you've ever been to a party where one person seemed to pull everyone into the room with them just by walking through the door, you've probably met a Spark. In this week's episode of the Candace Cameron Bure Podcast, Candace and Jason VanRuler wrap up the PATHS series with the two communication types that are the most easily misread and maybe the most important to understand.

The Harbor: Making Space for What's Messy

Jason describes the Harbor as someone whose first instinct is to ask how you're feeling and actually mean it. Not to fix it, not to move past it. Just to make room. He calls it deep water, and it is a good image. Harbors are the therapists, coaches, pastors, social workers, and friends who stay when things get hard. They are often the person you call when something falls apart.

But Jason is a Harbor himself, and he is honest about where it gets complicated. He shares that in leadership settings, he can spend an entire meeting helping everyone process how they feel about a decision and then realize the decision never actually got made. Feelings matter, he says, but they do not always have to lead. There are moments when truth has to go first, even if it is uncomfortable.

The other piece Jason brings up is the wound that often sits underneath the Harbor type. A lot of Harbors grew up in homes or situations where their feelings were not particularly relevant. Something was happening, it affected them, and no one asked. So they grew up and decided they would be the one who asks. They give the gift they needed most. That is a beautiful thing. It can also mean they forget to need it themselves.

He references the writer of Psalm 46:1, who says God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. He points out that God is the ultimate Harbor. We can bring all of it to God, all the time, and he will always make space. Candace talks about her own practice of going to God before she calls her husband or a friend, just taking it there first and letting him have it.

The Spark: Reading the Room, Going Surface, and Surfacing at the Right Moment

The Spark brings energy into a room. People notice when they arrive. They are often what makes a gathering feel alive, conversations start because they start them, and momentum builds because they are in it. Jason says flat out: if you are hosting a party, you need one or two Sparks. You just do.

But Sparks can struggle to stay when things get hard. Jason describes a close friend who is as much of a Spark as anyone he knows. Wonderful person. But the moment something difficult comes up in a conversation, Jason notices the call starting to wind down. The Spark is comfortable at the surface and genuinely has to work to stay when it gets heavy.

The image Jason uses is a whale. On a whale-watching tour in Cabo, the tour guide explained that unlike dolphins, which are constantly jumping and visible, whales surface every fifteen minutes or so. When a Spark opens up about something real, Jason says, it is like a whale surfacing. That is rare. That means something. And if someone is not paying attention when it happens, the moment is gone.

Candace shares what her husband has taught her about this with their own kids. He told her you just have to be patient enough to get through all the surface-level talk, the "how was your day" and the fine and the nothing. Most of the time, that is all there is. But one out of every three conversations, he said, something opens. A crack in the door. You have to be there for it. Candace admits she is not always patient enough. Her husband presses in, stays on the patio, and gets the conversations she does not.

Two Questions Worth Sitting With

A listener named Morgan asks about her three-year-old daughter who worries constantly. Jason talks about overstimulation, about kids repeating what they hear at home, and about a simple idea he calls walking out the worry: helping a child follow the worry all the way to the end. If this bad thing happens, then what? And then what? Usually they arrive somewhere manageable. The worry loses its grip when it runs out of road.

A listener named Karen writes in about her twelve-year-old, who resists every hug, every attempt to connect, and responds with something that lands like rejection every time. Jason says kids always remember if you tried, even if they don't remember whether it worked. He also says it is okay to name the awkwardness out loud, to say "I'm going to hug you even though it's weird" and just do it. There is usually a part of the kid that wanted it. Candace shares about her own daughter Natasha, who rebuffed hugs through her teen years and now in her late twenties will tell you she has always loved physical touch. It was a test. She wanted the hug.

Wrap on PATHS

With Harbor and Spark covered, all five types are on the table: Peacemaker, Advocate, Thinker, Harbor, and Spark. Jason is clear that none of them is better than the others. Knowing your type is not the point. The point is knowing the type of the person in front of you, so you can speak in a way that actually reaches them. It is a shortcut past misunderstanding. It is a way to show up for the people you love with something more useful than good intentions.

Sponsors mentioned in this episode:

PHD Weight Loss, myphdweightloss.com, call 864-644-1900 /

International Fellowship of Christians and Jews, ifcj.org/candace /

Grand Canyon University, gcu.edu /

316 Financial, bank316.com/ccb, promo code CCB