The Long Work of Courage
A Meditation by Rev. Cameron Trimble
“When I dare to be powerful, to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid.” — Audre Lorde
Today we conclude our exploration of fear. This week we have meditated on fear as an individual experience that deforms us, a collective madness that can possess us, a motivator for compassion, a call to action. Today we meet fear as an invitation to courage.
We begin with a confession: Most of us are tired.
We are tired of the cruelty. Tired of the chaos. Tired of watching our shared life shrink under the weight of fear and cynicism. It’s tempting to believe we’ve done enough—to retreat, to grow numb. But this is exactly when courage is most needed: not as spectacle, but as stamina.
The courage required for this age is not loud or heroic. It’s slow, patient, renewable. It’s the kind that takes root in those who refuse to surrender their tenderness. The kind that knows love is still possible, even here.
Robin Wall Kimmerer teaches that “all flourishing is mutual.”1 The long work of courage begins when we remember this truth—that courage is not a solo virtue but a shared metabolism. We are sustained by one another’s bravery. When we act in courage, even quietly, we widen the circle of what is possible for everyone else.
bell hooks described love as “a combination of care, commitment, knowledge, responsibility, respect, and trust.” Courage, at its core, is love in motion. It is the willingness to care when the world insists it’s safer not to. It is the decision to remain committed when every headline screams futility.
Winona LaDuke once said, “I believe in redemption.”2 She wasn’t speaking of a supernatural rescue, but of our capacity to restore balance — to participate again in the sacred reciprocity of life. The long work of courage is that kind of redemption: it transcends apology and repair alone. It’s participation in life’s ongoing renewal, even when the outcomes are uncertain. It’s trusting that the arc of creation bends not automatically, but through our hands, our hearts, our organizing, our persistence.
This work is slow. It looks like showing up to another meeting, another vigil, another hard conversation. It looks like planting seeds you may never see bloom. It looks like refusing despair’s invitation to isolation.
The Australian activist and elder Lilla Watson said at the 1985 United Nations Decade for Women Conference in Nairobi., “If you have come here to help me, you are wasting your time. But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together.” Her words remind us that courage is never charity. It is the deep knowing that our fates are braided together.
Courage, then, is not the possession of the few. It’s the inheritance of the many who remember we belong to one another. The long work of courage is learning to live from that belonging — to refuse both the arrogance of saviorhood and the despair of helplessness. It is the steady rhythm of people who keep choosing life, together, no matter how fragile it feels.
The late theologian and writer Barbara Holmes (Dr. B, to those of us who knew her) reminds us that “crisis is the proving ground of community.” When we come together in the face of fear, something holy stirs between us — an intelligence larger than any one mind, a resilience born from shared spirit. We are reminded that courage is not an individual performance but a collective resonance.
In the end, courage is less about conquest than continuity. It is the art of staying faithful — to the earth, to each other, to the slow evolution of justice — even when the story looks unredeemable. The world is remade by people who, in the long night, simply keep the fire going.
We are in this together,
Cameron
Reflection Questions
What does “slow courage” look like in your life right now?
Who taught you how to be brave when there was no applause?
How might you practice courage as a rhythm, not a reaction?
A Prayer for the Day
A Prayer For Those Who Keep Showing Up
Spirit of the long road, when our hearts grow weary and our voices thin, remind us that courage does not depend on mood. You have stitched perseverance into our DNA. You are the pulse beneath our exhaustion. You are the quiet insistence: keep going. May we find strength not in certainty, but in the deep knowing that love never stops evolving. Let our courage be steady enough to face the dark, and tender enough to keep creating light. Amen.
Spiritual Practice
The Ember Ritual
Each evening this week, find a small flame—a candle, a fireplace, even the light of your phone—and take one minute to sit before it in silence.
As you watch it flicker, name the source of your current weariness. Speak it aloud or hold it gently in your heart.
Then, breathe a prayer of gratitude for those who are also keeping watch—the organizers, caregivers, teachers, healers, elders, and friends who sustain the world’s quiet resistance.
When you blow out the flame, whisper a blessing:
“The light continues—through us, between us, beyond us.”
Carry that sentence with you the next morning as an act of faith.
In a time of fear, courage is not to burn brightly alone—it is to become part of the shared fire that never goes out.
A Note from Cameron
Gentle Shift, Rooted in Gratitude
Dear friends,
Over the past few years of writing these meditations, so many of you have written back to me, expressing gratitude, sharing your own reflections, and reminding me that these words are landing where they’re needed. I can’t tell you what that means to me.
Some of you have even sent letters by mail—Susan from Mountain View tucked in a sheet of stickers “to bring joy” along with a $20 bill; Erika and Mark sent a note and a donation to Convergence in appreciation for these reflections. Hundreds of you leave notes of appreciation in the comments. Each gesture reminds me that what we’re building here is more than a mailing list. It’s a community of kindred spirits, seeing one another through a very trying time.
At the end of each meditation, I remind us that “we are in this together.” I truly feel that from you.
I’m making a gentle shift and turning on the paid subscription option for this Substack. There’s no obligation—these meditations will continue to arrive in your inbox freely. But if this space has become part of your rhythm, and you wish to help sustain it, your support means a great deal. THANK YOU to those who already subscribed.
Together we make the world a bit kinder, more creative, and more generous. Thank you for walking this path with me.
With deep gratitude,
Cameron
Upcoming Events That Might Be of Interest…
January 6, 13, 20, 2026 - Protest and Action Chaplaincy Training with Rev. Anna Galladay. This live, online training offers a framework for providing compassionate, grounded spiritual care during protests, advocacy gatherings, and social movements. Learn more here.
January 15, 2026, 7-8pm EST - FREE Online Webinar: When the Internet Hurts: The Hidden Online Dangers Facing Our Teens and How Faith Communities Can Respond, Join me in conversation with Sharon Winkler, survivor parent and nationally respected youth online-safety advocate. Sharon’s son, Alex, died at age 17 after experiencing cyberbullying and algorithmically targeted pro-suicide content. Since then, Sharon has dedicated her life to helping parents, educators, and faith leaders recognize online dangers and build safer communities for young people. Register here.
February 11th and 25, 2026 - Join Our “Building a Culture of Leadership Within Congregations” Cohort facilitated by Rabbi Benjamin Ross and me! A two-session course for ministers and faith leaders ready to strengthen how their congregations and ministries identify, develop, and support leaders. Learn more here.
July 19-24, 2026 - Join me and amazing co-facilitator, Victoria, on retreat in the back-country of beautiful Wyoming. The Art of Wilding is a 5-Day Expedition for Women Leaders. We will spend the week reconnecting to nature, exploring our inner landscapes for change, and engage the wisdom of spiritual teachings. Click here to learn more.
I drafted a Strategic Framework for Congregations as we move into the coming years of increased authoritarianism around the world. If interested, you can download it here.
Fun Things My Friends Are Up To…
I get to work with such amazing, creative people. This new section is my way of celebrating them—no paid promotions, just joy in what they’re creating.
Dr. Luther E. Smith, Jr. is the Professor Emeritus of Church and Community at Emory University (and was my seminary professor a long time ago). He has a new book out that I’m excited about: Hope Is Here! Spiritual Practices for Pursuing Justice and Beloved Community.
James Finley is one of our great teachers of the mystics. His podcast, hosted by the Center for Action and Contemplation, is a deep-dive into the mystical teachings of saints like St. Teresa of Avila, Brother Lawrence, St. John of the Cross, and Julian of Norwich, just to name a few. Check it out here.
If you are a leader or member of a congregation looking for consulting support in visioning, planning, hiring or staffing, please consider Convergence.
The Great Remembering
“We are lonely for our more-than-human kin… but the land is lonely for us, too. The land loves us, and we need that conduit to love the land back. Out of that, anything is possible.” — Robin Wall Kimmerer
I have found that courage is a perseverance that trusts deeply in the power of love that pervades all existence no matter what things look like on the surface. This courage is knowing that transformation is being guided even when we do not see it in outward circumstances. Patience and trust rest here.
“courage is not a solo virtue but a shared metabolism”… so beautifully, compassionately articulated… thank you