Dearest Members and Friends of UUCT,

As I offer these final words in my role as your Minister, I do so with a full heart and clear understanding: ministry, like art, is never fully complete. It is a mosaic of moments—some polished, some raw—and it is shaped by many hands.

Serving with you has been an honor and a homecoming of sorts. Never would I have imagined being a minister of a community less than 20 miles from where my mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother were born and raised. I’ll forever be immensely grateful for the blessing and personal significance of that. Though our time together in formal ministry was brief, the roots of our relationship stretch back to 2019—four years before my ordination. When I was still finding my place in Unitarian Universalism, it was you—especially the BIPOC Group and the now-disbanded Pagan Small Group Ministry—who held space for me to show up whole. You ministered to me long before I ministered to you.

In Worship & Rites of Passage, thank you for the honor of standing in our light-filled sanctuary, where trees of green grow and bear witness to our searching hearts. From Ingathering to Juneteenth—with all the holy days in between—it has been my joy to shape services alongside talented lay leaders and other religious professionals. It has also been a special privilege to witness and support our DRE as they’ve blossomed more fully into a spiritual leader and worship coordinator. May lay leaders continue to share their gifts so that your worship remains bold and beautiful—rooted in the space, the people, and the Spirit of Love that moves among us.

In Pastoral Care, I have sat with you in silence and in laughter—over Zoom calls and coffee hours, in hospital rooms and street corners. Some needs went unseen or unmet—and I grieve that. But I trust the care you show one another will deepen as your newly developing Care Team finds its voice, and as each of you claim your role in the mutual ministry of presence. One area that will require patience and discernment going forward is how the church responds to requests for financial support. For now, I’ve recommended that UUCT focus ministerial discretion funds on active members and friends of the church facing hardship. Over the coming months, your Care Team and Board will determine how to best manage and resource that ministry of compassion.

In Spiritual Development, I’ve witnessed the beauty of your inquiry—through small group ministries, youth RE circles, potluck conversations about mystery and meaning, and walks at Lake Ella where we explored care, belonging, and being human together. You are a congregation of seekers. Your questioning has been as sacred as your answers. May the blessing of UUCT’s pluralism be grounded in deepening commitments to equity, inclusion, accessibility, and spiritual growth across generations.

In Justice Advocacy, you have been among the most faithful partners I’ve known. Your presence at protests, legislative hearings, TCAC meetings, TIRA campaigns, Equality Florida events, and CAJM’s Nehemiah Action filled me with pride. Your Share the Plate offerings, your commitment to climate justice, your work with Manna on Meridian and UU the Vote, your passion for food justice and housing equity—you do not merely believe in justice; you practice it. Keep turning toward the margins. Keep organizing. Keep listening.In Connection to the Wider UU Movement, thank you for allowing me to represent you in General Assembly workshops, Black Lives of UU conversations, Side with Love UU justice actions, and interfaith coalitions. UUCT has been known as a congregation that shows up—with courage, integrity, and care. Your legacy stretches far beyond Tallahassee. Hold on to that.

In Church Administration, I give thanks to those who serve quietly and consistently behind the scenes—on Personnel, Finance, COSM, and the Board—those who carry the weight of decisions that shape UUCT’s direction and culture. The governance experimentation you undertook was not just structural—it was spiritual. You didn’t simply change systems; you began re-cultivating a culture of shared ministry, mutual trust, and collaborative care. I want to especially thank Adriane Pitt, our Church Administrator, for her steady excellence, institutional memory, and grace.

And to Les, our sexton, and all who care for the buildings and grounds—you are the keepers of the physical heart of this community. Every vacuumed floor, fixed leak, trimmed branch, decluttered room, and cleaned window is part of a sacred ministry of welcome. Thank you for making this place not just beautiful, but beloved.

To all volunteers—your gifts have made UUCT move. Whether visible in worship or behind the scenes, your energy sustains this congregation. Thank you for showing up with hands, hearts, and hope.

To all the long-time members, your wisdom and memory have guided me time and again. You’ve helped me understand this place—its stories, its wounds, its beauty. You are the living bridge between history and possibility.

You are a congregation of community heritage and heart. You have weathered transitions, pandemics, hurricanes, and heartbreaks. And still—you sing.

Now, once again, you are entering a season of lay-led ministry—a model that is not new to you, but rooted in your past. You have been here before, and you know how to thrive. You are still the same vibrant, justice-loving, spiritually-curious, and radically-caring community you’ve always been. You are enough—just as you are. With your creativity and commitment to shared ministry, you can continue to grow, to welcome, and to transform lives.

There is no perfect moment to say goodbye. No way to capture fully all that we’ve shared. What I know is this: my first term as a church minister was imperfect, but faithful. Incomplete, but true. And I leave with immense gratitude and abiding love.

As your story continues, may you keep seeking, singing, and stretching the circle wider still.

With love beyond measure,
Rev. E.N. Hill