Enough Trouble

As I travel the highways and valleys of this beautiful Conference, I often describe my basic driving safety strategy as “not going faster than the car in front of me.” This dry humor has evolved into a metaphor for daily life in my role as Conference Minister. Dreaming about the possibilities for the future can be energizing; but when we’re overwhelmed by the present moment, the future can feel like more of a burden than an opportunity. I often find myself worrying about whether we are doing enough, especially because I’m so inspired by our capacity as a Conference, and in our Associations and Local Churches. “We should be doing more,” plays in the back of my mind like a broken record.

What I say to you is also a reminder to myself: we are doing enough. We are doing what we can. We are working hard, every day, to serve more people, to seek more justice, and to love our neighbors.  We are doing this work with partners from diverse faith and non-profit communities at our sides and often out in front of us. That doesn’t mean we don’t keep learning and growing; but it might mean that we agree to set reasonable goals and give ourselves grace. “Stop worrying about tomorrow,” Jesus told the disciples, “because tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” (Matt. 6:34 CEB)

I suspect many of us are feeling the truth of that last sentence very keenly in this moment. Thanks be to God for the prophetic statements being shared by clergy and activists, including this letter on freedom to express our faith, by our own General Minister and President, Rev. Dr. Karen Georgia Thompson. A bold, clear witness is crucial in this moment, even if these are so often statements we’ve already made over and over. 

In our Conference, that witness is a continuation of the Just World Covenants we’ve already made. We don’t all have to issue daily statements. We don’t have to respond to every hateful quip or executive order. Instead, let our ministry be our statement, as your ministries have been for me in the past weeks: the queer clergy support cohorts you lead, the workshops you’ve attended on protective strategies for dealing with ICE, the wildfire aid efforts you’re coordinating with BIPOC communities and families; the neighbors you feed and the camp session you are planning and the anthems of love and peace you are singing in the face of fear and hatred! Prophetic witness doesn’t just happen in Statehouse and on the street; it’s also present in the way our Committees on Ministry supports transgender clergy and Members in Discernment; and in the way our Conference Board prioritizes grant opportunities.

I don’t think I have to tell you about the danger of trying to do too much, too fast: we crash.  We run on empty tanks until we stall out. As people who tend to worry that we are moving too slowly, we also need to be attentive to opportunities to rest. To refuel. Sometimes, to make more room to learn and listen before we act.  If nothing else, our wildfire emergency response has taught me that there can be such a thing as too much help. Instead of rushing in, let’s take a breath. Let’s make a plan. We’re not in this work alone, and we don’t have to do it all.  We are enough for this moment, and we will keep hope alive, one day at a time.