A WIDER LIGHT

by Jocelyn Watkins, 2026 Illinois/Wisconsin District moderator

“I remind you to rekindle the gift of God that is within you” (2 Timothy 1:6)

Beloved in Christ,

Driving across Illinois or Wisconsin after dark, especially beyond the brighter lights of the cities, there are stretches when only the road immediately ahead is visible. Then the land opens, or the road rises slightly, and lights begin appearing across the distance: a farmhouse window, a porch light near the edge of a field, the glow of a small town farther ahead. From close by, each seems to stand on its own; from higher ground, the scattered points begin to reveal the shape of a larger landscape. Each light keeps its own place, yet together they make more of the horizon visible.

Nearly a year ago, when I introduced “Kindled Anew,” I invited each congregation and each believer to tend one small flame. At district conference, I asked us to imagine what it might look like a year later if every church in the district had kindled or rekindled even one: a hundred small lights burning together, brighter than any single blaze.

Across the district, people have stepped into new responsibilities, congregations have adapted ministries to changing circumstances, young people have returned from gatherings carrying stories and questions, and shared ministries have continued creating places for connection and service. Much of this happens beyond the sight of any one congregation. In November, some of those separate stories will come into the same room, where reports and business will sit alongside conversations over meals, voices raised in worship, young people reflecting on National Youth Conference, and gifts gathered for the Lifeline Food Pantry. Much of what has been kindled this year will arrive carried in people rather than printed on paper.

For a day, miles that usually separate our congregations will shrink to the distance between chairs, tables, and conversations. The churches represented in that room will not all look alike, face the same circumstances, understand every question in the same way, or imagine the future along identical lines. Yet each belongs to this shared life, bringing gifts and experiences that become easier to recognize when we gather near enough to hear one another.

Paul’s words to Timothy have accompanied us through the year: “I remind you to rekindle the gift of God that is within you.” The longer I have contemplated that verse, the more its confidence has steadied me. Paul directs Timothy toward the gift already there, and that assurance now sits beside the real questions our congregations carry about leadership, participation, resources, buildings, and the future. Through all of it, people continue to pray, teach, sing, serve, discern, experiment, and offer what they have. The Spirit has never depended upon every congregation being in the same place or every person arriving at the same conclusions before gifts can be shared.

Serving as moderator has allowed me to see more of this shared life than I could ever have seen from within my own congregation alone, and I am deeply grateful for the privilege. I have seen the quiet labor behind gatherings and ministries, the willingness to step forward when a role needs filling, and the care people carry for congregations beyond their own. I have also seen people remain in conversation when agreement was incomplete and continue working together across differences that could easily have created distance. Those glimpses have left me even more hopeful about our district than I was when this year began.

This is my final newsletter reflection as moderator, although one important gathering still remains. When we meet in Polo, the room itself will tell part of the story: congregations separated by miles sitting near one another, experiences formed in different places entering the same conversation, and gifts tended quietly through the year becoming easier to recognize. The work that follows will take new forms, new hands, and new imagination, while drawing from the same Spirit that has carried us this far.

A year ago, “a hundred small lights” named what we hoped might be possible. Some are easier to see now, while others are still taking shape beyond our own line of sight. They do not need to become one indistinguishable flame. Together, they reveal a wider light and a district whose life is still unfolding.

May we come to Polo grateful for what has been kindled among us, willing to draw near across the distances that remain, and hopeful about the light we will carry forward together.