The Courage to Break the Loop

Faith and hope can feel like wishful thinking when we’re trapped in cycles of fear.

Is it just me, or does it feel like we’re living inside a system glitch? Like we keep loading and reloading the webpage of our collective lives only to get the same error message, the same spinning wheel that makes you think something is happening…until finally… “Aw, Snap! This Site Can’t Be Reached.”

Refresh…

Refresh…

…only to get the same news headlines, the same angry arguments, the same systemic failures to meet our needs and solve our problems.

Even our prayers feel caught in repetition.

“God, how long?”
“God, help us.”
“God, again?”

As our democracy frays and our planet warms, as cruelty gets platformed and compassion gets ridiculed, we are tired, stuck, disillusioned. In this moment of fear and despair, faith and hope feel naïve, like wishful thinking.

Rabbi and family therapist Edwin Friedman called this imaginative gridlock—the inability to generate fresh vision in the face of anxiety. When fear dominates, we regress into what’s familiar. We repeat old patterns. We apply yesterday’s solutions to today’s crises and wonder why nothing changes. In anxious systems, we try harder and care more, but end up either frozen in place or burning ourselves out on a treadmill of urgency.

Either way, we’re stuck.

Friedman worked with marriages, families, congregations, entire communities caught in these loops. Again and again, he found that the first step toward breaking free wasn’t more information or better arguments—it was emotional awareness and clarity. People had to name their fear and step back from the emotional intensity of the system before they could even begin to imagine a different path forward.

This emotional gridlock that Friedman observed in families and congregations isn’t just about personal relationships—it operates at every level of society. The same fear-based patterns that keep individuals stuck also shape our collective imagination about what's possible.

In her book Pleasure Activism, writer and movement leader adrienne maree brown puts it boldly:

We are in an imagination battle, and almost everything about how we orient ourselves is shaped by fearful imaginations. Imaginations that fear Blackness, brownness, fatness, queerness, disability and difference.

In a world shaped by fearful imaginations, we’ve inherited and absorbed scripts and stories that teach us who belongs, who matters, who deserves joy, rest, safety, abundance. These scripts become cycles—passed down, systematized, reinforced by scarcity, supremacy, and control.

If we want to break the loop, we’ll have to confront not only our fear of the future, but the deep biases embedded in the stories we've been told about what kind of future is even possible.

The scripts that:

· tell us nothing will ever change

· reduce our neighbor to a threat

· whisper, Comfort is more important than courage

· say, Don’t risk. Don’t speak. Don’t try.

This is where I find myself lately—trying not to let my imagination be held captive by those scripts. Trying not to give in to the fear-based hunger for familiarity, control, or comfort. Trying to recognize the limits and biases of my inherited scripts. Trying to listen to new voices.

It’s hard work.

But it’s also holy work.

Because I believe God is still at work seeking to free us from this “system glitch” for something new.

If you’re in this place too—tired, stuck, but still stubbornly hopeful—then come with me. Together, let’s practice imagining something new, something more: More justice. More joy. More room at the table. More healing than we thought possible. More life.

The loop may not break all at once. But maybe it starts with my one small act of courage, and yours.

Recent writing:

It’s been a while since I’ve been able to update this newsletter, but I’ve still been busy writing.

My editorial about my loved one’s PTSD recently won the Associated Church Press’s Award of Merit for editorial courage. “Bound by love to bear witness” was the most vulnerable editorial I’ve written for the Outlook, so it was particularly gratifying to read the judge’s comment: “This is a very moving personal account that had me wanting to go out on my own and learn more.”

After a long-desired trip to the Legacy Museum in Montgomery, Alabama, I wrote “We’re all invited to the freedom party” for our February magazine on civil rights. The Outlook staff encouraged me to read it for our podcast, and I love how they set the recording to music—listen to it here.

“The power we hold to make peace” introduced our May magazine on nonviolent resistance. I highlighted the scholarship of political scientists Erica Chenoweth and Maria J. Stephan, whose research reveals that nonviolent movements are more successful at establishing lasting peace than violent (hope for all of us working for change!). I also wrote an educational feature for this issue, giving an overview on the principles of Kingian nonviolence.

Also, if you were not among the 30,000 people who read about the Presbyterian Outlook getting banned by Instagram, here’s that editorial and my follow up explaining why we left the platform for good.

Books I’m loving:

I rarely reread books. There are too many new books I want to read! But Carolyn Forche’s extraordinary memoir What You Have Heard is True: A Memoir of Witness and Resistance was worth this time and attention. In light of the Trump administration’s disturbing deportations to El Salvador’s CECOT prison, and my growing question of What can I do? I returned to Forche’s book as a reminder of the power of words that bear witness to injustice. As a 27-year-old American poet, Forché was recruited by an El Salvadorian stranger, the relative of a friend, to visit his country, meet with campesinos and colonels, and witness human rights violations by the Salvadorian military (funded by the U.S.) The book, which includes depictions of sickening atrocities, reminds me that I, too, can be a witness, testifying to the truth that I see, observe, and feel when I don’t hide behind my privileged and protected life.

I plowed my way through Max Boot’s 800-page biography Reagan: His Life and Legend, intrigued to read an honest and nuanced portrayal of this influential political figure. I learned a lot about the president whom I remember my parents celebrating as the 1980 election results rolled in through our living room television. Understanding Reagan’s political rise and the first “Make America Great Again” campaign helped me better understand today’s political moment and Trump’s playbook.

Upcoming speaking:

June 13, 2025: Workshop Leader for Synod of the Mid-Atlantic Presbyterian Women Summer Gathering at Massanetta Springs Camp and Conference Center, VA.

August 10, 2025: Preaching at Wallingford Presbyterian Church, Seattle, WA.

September 26, 2025: Teaching and Preaching at Ginter Park Presbyterian Church, Richmond, VA.

October 26, 2025: Teaching at Second Presbyterian Church, Indianapolis, IN.

November 8, 2025: Preaching for Heartland Presbytery Meeting at First Presbyterian Church, Lees Summit, MO.

Let’s connect!

Is your book club or church reading Necessary Risks? Are you planning an educational event for your church, presbytery or synod that aligns with the theme of Necessary Risks: Challenges Privileged People Need to Face? I’d love to get you and your group on my schedule—just hit reply to start talking or contact me by clicking here.