It’s 2 a.m. on a Tuesday night, and I am wide awake.

Usually my kids are to blame for this sort of thing. They had a bad dream. They want something to eat. They forgot to tell me a funny joke they heard at school. Urgent stuff. But not tonight. Tonight is worse. What has awoken me is not my kids but my anxiety about a conflict at the church I co-pastor with my husband, Ike. Someone we love and are close to, someone who knows our family and our kids and who has been on mission with us for the gospel, doesn’t like a decision we made. They are so upset that they’re threatening to leave.

As soon as my eyes pop open in the darkness, the thoughts that have been churning for days resume:

Maybe if I explained this Scripture passage to them…

Maybe if I came at it from this theological perspective…

Maybe if I shared the wise counsel we received from experts in our congregation…

Maybe if they heard the stories of hurting people in our church…

And on and on it ...