“I Tried to be Good” Enough

+ now I find goodness from a place of “enough”

Headstone marking the grave of Cyril R. Hamburger at Glenwood Cemetery. Jan 8, 2020

“Why are you in a cemetery right now?”

My phone chimed. I dug my hand into my pocket to read and chuckle at this text message from a friend, wondering why I was hanging out in a famous cemetery in Houston during a mid-week morning. She must have spotted my location on Apple’s Find My app and wondered what was going on.¹

I quickly typed out something like “I’m here for a church staff meeting.” And I went back to moseying around on this 50*F day in Houston before the meeting started.

It was the most contemplative time I had during a communal gathering while working at that church. At the cemetery, we were encouraged to spend 30+ minutes wandering around alone, taking stock of the headstones we passed. The location for our meeting might have been a reflection on the fleeting nature of life (or something). Frankly, I was glad we weren’t meeting in the church conference room where staff tensions were more often raised than eased. I walked a bit through the maze of headstones, eventually making my way toward the bayou. Like a cat, I’d sit and bask in the sun near the spraying fountains and take in the view of downtown.

Photo of the fountains at Glenwood. Jan 8, 2020

I snapped photos of some headstones I read. There was one, though, that will forever stick with me. I admit: a part of me was a bit goober-ish. I was drawn in by the last name. Hamburger. I’d never encountered it as a name and smiled reading it. But my face dropped when I read the epitaph.

Cyril R. Hamburger. Born September 20, 1899. Died December 26, 1924. His epitaph read, “I tried to be good.”

The tightness in me unraveled as I wept. “I tried to be good.”

I had never heard of (and never found out about) Cyril or the short 25 years he lived. But in that moment, Cyril and I were kin. He tried to be good. And, dammit, I had tried to be good too.

I avoid wandering into the weeds of the timeline for my church woes. The timeline doesn’t really matter for most of the words I share with you, but the timeline matters with this one. This trip to Glenwood was on January 8, 2020, and it would be my last staff meeting in that cemetery.

These photos were taken one month before the inciting incident that would result in my being “church fired.” I have church fired in quotes because “fired” and “terminated” weren’t the words used to remove me from staff. I suppose my pastors and brothers thought those words were harsh and abrasive, and, instead, they opted to tell people I was “transitioning out” and being given an “informal off-ramp.”² Though, the transition and informal off-ramp were no less harsh and abrasive.

One month before I would cry in a room full of staff, telling them how exhausted I was, I was crying at the foot of Cyril’s grave, knowing I had spent so much time and energy trying to be good enough for the church I worked for and the church family I worked with.

Good enough. Obedient enough. Wise enough.

And all of it made me exhausted enough to cry out.

I think a part of me cried because I knew “good enough” was a moving target. You know what I mean? “Good” as defined by my brothers and pastors seemed to have the fragrance of faithfulness but not really the fruit. Their “good” required my burnout.

I realized: the standard of “enough” was governed by the few in power who profited from my staying small. For them, good enough was synonymous with quiet enough, submissive enough, loyal enough, deferent enough. I gave my toxic pastors power to shape me and name me, but instead of washing feet, they burned me.

So, in February 2020, as I tried to tell them that their “good” wasn’t faithful, my brothers shattered me, and shame robed me.

No Longer Chasing Another’s “Enough”

I may have been shattered, but I am now free. Free from the merry-go-round of standards I was coerced to comply with. Free from the convoluted definitions that defined extrabiblical forms of faithfulness. With every year, I walk further away from the siren’s song that would compel me to chase another’s “enough.”

It’s been four years since I’ve taken those photos at Glenwood Cemetery, and I haven’t gone back to visit. It has been nearly four years since my family and I made our own exodus from that church. And it’s been nearly 100 years since Cyril died hoping that he was good when he did. I won’t live my life chasing “good enough” as defined by other people. And I certainly won’t die begging harmful people—those misusing and abusing their power—to tell me I was good. In building new relationships today, I’m not going to chase people who think I don’t meet their standards. Those who have deemed that I’m not “healed enough,” “Christian enough,” “advocate enough,” or “faithfulness enough” according to their expectations.

In 2024, I choose to pursue the goodness of Jesus because I know, unequivocally, that when he sees shepherds ordained in his name harming the sheep in their case, he voices a word of protest and says, “Enough.”

I don’t share anything at all about Cyril or Glenwood in my debut book publishing June 25, 2024, but if you like what you read here, I think you might enjoy reading Othered.

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A Few Updates 💃

Thanks for bearing with me as December was a newsletter-less month for me. I figured that we were all being bombarded with sales discounts and holiday specials. I imagine you email inbox, like my own, was filled with ads vying for our attention. So, I opted not to write or shout over the voice of holiday chaos.

Broken to Beloved Summit

I’m speaking again at the Broken to Beloved Summit happening Jan 23-26. My session (scheduled for Jan 24) is titled “The Harm of Othering in the Church,” and you’ll catch some themes that I write on extensively in Othered.

What you need to know:

• The summit is free to register, and each session is free to watch on the day of release. You can find more info HERE.

• If you can’t watch each session on the day of, there is a lifetime, all-access pass you can purchase. If you scoop it up now through Jan 19, you get it at a discounted rate of $79. After Jan 19, it will be $129.

Other speakers include some speaking and writing folx I enjoy learning from, including:
- J.S. Park
- Tiffany Bluhm
- Kate Boyd
- Katherine Spearing
- Nikki G
- Dr. Chuck DeGroat
- Krispin Mayfield

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Book Updates

I’ve had a look at the page proofs for Othered. It is SO fun to see the interior design (which is what the pages of the actual book will look like).

For those who are new here, I shared the cover and the reasoning behind the cover I illustrated in a previous Substack post. (See below.)

OTHERED Book Cover Reveal 👀

I also wanted to share that Othered is available for preorder! I’m not hyping it much now. I haven’t met with my marketing or publicity folx to sketch out a game plan. But that doesn’t need to stop you from preordering if you’re interested today!

You can find preorders at OTHEREDBOOK.COM, but you can also find the book on my publisher’s website.

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A SURPRISE

Over the course of the last year, I’ve been helping to shape a nonprofit community that is for weary and wounded wanderers who are trying to figure out what faith looking like after everything has fallen apart!

Kate Boyd, Jaime Coy, and myself have come together to form The Remembered Table.

You can visit the website, click around, and read about some of the things we have happening. But you’re interested, you can also sign up for the interest list.

1. This might sound weird—having a friend tracking my location on an app, but it wasn’t. I previously spent a lot of time running miles around Houston, and after a few weird/scary incidents, I felt better having a few people know my location.

2. I share the story of being “transitioned out” and my “informal off-ramp” in Othered if you are an inquiring mind.