Entrust

I’ve been thinking lately about the word entrust.

Not just trust, but entrust.

Entrusting involves placing something in the hands of others, sharing responsibility, and believing that something meaningful can be held not by one person, but by many. I’ve been leaning into this lately, and I find myself searching for words to describe how liberating it can feel to trust a community — and to entrust a shared vision to that community.

This is remarkably countercultural. We are so often told, in subtle and explicit ways, that we should be able to do things on our own, that we should be self-sufficient, and that strength looks like independence. But that story has its limits. The truth is, most meaningful work — and most meaningful life — is not something we build alone.

This is not about being naive. After all, trust is earned and built slowly, through experience and relationship, through people showing us who they are over time.

But once it is there, something shifts. We can begin to move forward without having everything figured out. We can begin to act, not from a place of certainty, but from a sense of rootedness in relationships. We can bring forward ideas that are still forming. We can take steps without seeing the entire path. We won’t have all the answers, but we will know who we can help.

In the midst of a cancer diagnosis, I know someone who has shared this with me: “I would never wish this diagnosis on anyone, but I wish everyone knew what it felt like to have your community catch you.”

This kind of care is necessary and vital in times of crisis. But I wonder if it is also true when we are stretching toward something new, nurturing shared visions and possibilities, and bringing forward something imperfect, unfinished, still becoming.

Can a community catch us there, too? In the bright spots? In the joy? In the possibilities?

If so, I am still searching for words to describe that feeling.

—Renee Roederer