The Redemptive Power of Trust

 "He [George Pocock] observed the fragility of confidence and the redemptive power of trust." - The Boys in the Boat - Daniel James Brown

I have not written on this blog for a VERY long time. A lot has changed. I am now an engineer. My life as a pastor feels like a distant memory on most days. On other days, I experience a fresh wave of grief over the loss of that piece of my identity. Some have told me that though I might have left the pulpit, that does not change who I am. I see that in the way that I care for the people around me in both my personal and professional life. But I miss the contemplative work of reading, writing, and speaking on matters of the soul.

So, I think I might start writing again? We'll see.

This morning I was reading back through blog posts, looking for memories of  the early days of motherhood. I was surprised by some of my words conveying emotions and events that I know were so vivid at the time but I now have no memory of at all. I think I might like to try capturing some snapshots in time again in this space.

I am reading (and loving) The Boys in the Boat by Daniel James Brown--the story of a rowing team from Washington State and "their epic quest for gold at the 1936 Berlin Olympics."  The book is both history and philosophy--the facts of the story as well as reflections on both the sport of rowing and the character of the athletes.

The quote at the top stood out to me because it has been so true of my own experience in the past few years. Starting a new career at the age of 38 was a challenge, to say the least. One of my own high school classmates interviewed me and said he could not justify hiring me because I had been away from the field for too long. Needless to say, that did not help my confidence.

Often over the last two and a half years, I have been so frustrated by how behind I am in so many ways. I shared entry-level tasks with coworkers almost twenty years younger than I. My mind is not so sharp as it was a few years ago. (I don't know if I have age, COVID, or approximately ten years of sleep deprivation to thank for that.) Some days it feels like I am forgetting as fast as I am learning.

I have become acutely aware of the fragility of confidence.

But I have also experienced the redemptive power of trust as team members have asked for advice, looked to me for leadership, and in general put their trust in me. This is my first job in this kind of environment--cubicles, break rooms, water coolers--the works. And I see how important trust is. Trust that you can admit uncertainty and not be condemned, trust that your teammates will come through for you when you need them most, trust that disagreement will not be the end of a relationship, trust that your mistakes will be forgiven. 

My workplace is not perfect, and I have had my share of frustration, disappointment, and challenges, but I have experienced the redemptive power of trust in a way that I probably would not have appreciated had I come to this job in my twenties.

The trust and confidence my colleagues have in me--even if I'm sometimes slow, sometimes lost, and sometimes lacking confidence--have indeed been redemptive.

It is a grace I did not expect. And it has birthed a grace in me I did not expect.

I think that somehow the church world, where there is only one pastor for every congregation (or a handful) led me to have extremely high standards of myself and others. Only the very best Christians, the very best leaders, the most creative visionaries, the most efficient administrators could have that coveted title of  "pastor."

But in the past years, I've learned how much we need each other to accomplish anything of significance. We don't just need a few superstars. We need beginners and and slow learners, people who are a hot mess, people whose kids get sick and have appointments and mess up their work schedule, neurodivergent people, extroverts and introverts, assertive and reserved, and on and on.

The trust I was given opened an expanse within me to trust others.

I don't know what the future holds for me professionally, but I am grateful for the ways I see transformation happening even in this current season of exile from the pastoral career I expected for myself.