I could say a lot about the wisdom contained in that slim volume, but one insight stuck with me. Several Catholic working moms are profiled in the book, and in her profile, Amanda Martinez Beck (amandamartinezbeck.com), an author and activist, writes:
I have to recognize the line between my potential and my capacity. Sure, I might have seven ideas that will make a million dollars (my potential), but do I have the time and resources to bring all of those ideas to fruition (my capacity)? (59)
As youth ministers, our potential is what lets us dream, innovate and hope. It’s the thing that God has placed in our hearts to motivate us, to inspire us to grow in competence as workers in the vineyard. Recognizing our potential is very good, very real, and critical to staying engaged as ministers.
In our prayer, in our daydreaming, in our professional development, in our conversations with colleagues, we dare to wonder, “What is the potential for this particular volunteer? What is the potential for this particular teen? This parent? This parish? The Church herself?”
It is intoxicating and invigorating to reflect on potential, because all things are possible with God, right?!
But…
Far more critical than our potential is our capacity. Capacity is where potential meets actual, where holy boldness meets humility, where our dreams and desires meet the concrete call of the Lord.
But in each of those scenarios, capacity would be maxed out quickly, with very little fruit and almost certain heartache. Pushing to fulfill potential without reference to capacity is a surefire path to burnout. Attentiveness to capacity is why we are commanded to practice Sabbath – it’s not that we can’t possibly work 24/7, but that God in his love assures us we shouldn’t (and that we don’t have to).
Conversely, given the right resources (including people!) to expand capacity, those same potential goals actually might become prudent and fruitful. God has created human potential in such a way that it can only be reached with the help of others, and is never fulfilled by accident.
In Luke 14, Jesus compares the cost of discipleship to the resources needed to build a tower or to successfully win a battle. Like a builder preparing to construct a tower, or a king preparing for war, we must first count the cost and determine if we have the capacity to proceed. Mother Theresa’s adage that we’re called to faithfulness, not success, doesn’t absolve us of the need for prudence, planning, and coordination!
But working within capacity doesn’t mean staying content with the status quo. Instead, it means taking time to account for what moves we can make, sustainably and healthily, toward the goal in mind. It’s only by working within our capacity that we can expand that capacity and begin to realize new horizons of potential.
Our limited capacity is a feature, not a bug, of how God has created us. Limitation is a great gift that allows us to appreciate the unlimited power of the God we serve, and thereby to participate in God’s great work of restoration.
As I transition back into full-time ministry mode (while also continuing in my vocation as spouse and parent), I’m asking myself these three questions: