Fundraising with a heavy heart

This past week I've felt discouraged a few times - probably because my time in the Word hasn't been consistent and some close friends are at odds. I'm also in the middle of planning a support trip that isn't coming together much yet...

A few months back I got word that my mom suddenly lost her job. That night I was scheduled to make calls to donors...

A month or so before that I'd heard that an adulterous affair had taken place among relatives. I was leaving on a support trip a few days later...

In each of these cases, I was entering into fundraising with a heavy heart. Surely you've been there, too. The feelings can stem from anything ranging from the inconvenient to the tragic. A loved one is sick. (Maybe you are, too.) A friend or relative just passed away. You've recently lost some funding. Your ministry isn't going great. You feel "ugly" due to a few too many pounds or an outbreak of acne or even a bad hair day.

For years I used to think that if I wasn't feeling "encouraged", I was left with two options in my fundraising:

1. Don't do it.
2. Fake it.

Option 1 can sometimes be what you need; a day/night off can often be refreshing, so long as it doesn't become a pattern of avoidance or self-pity. However, I often chose Option 2: paste on a smile, call people and tell them you're "doing great!" and you're "really encouraged with what God is doing!"

Perhaps some of that is even true. I have friends who tell me that if someone asks how they're doing, they'll reply, "Better than I deserve." While perhaps theologically accurate, it's also not quite honest. Or maybe we want to be doing better than we are, so we take a page from self-help books and simply fake it till we make it! Exude positive energy! Align your chi! Be a better you! "I'm super-diddly-duper, neighborino!"

But is there another option? Can we be discouraged and do fundraising?

[1] For you yourselves know, brothers, that our coming to you was not in vain. [2] But though we had already suffered and been shamefully treated at Philippi, as you know, we had boldness in our God to declare to you the gospel of God in the midst of much conflict. [3] For our appeal does not spring from error or impurity or any attempt to deceive, [4] but just as we have been approved by God to be entrusted with the gospel, so we speak, not to please man, but to please God who tests our hearts. [5] For we never came with words of flattery, as you know, nor with a pretext for greed—God is witness. [6] Nor did we seek glory from people, whether from you or from others, though we could have made demands as apostles of Christ. [7] But we were gentle among you, like a nursing mother taking care of her own children. [8] So, being affectionately desirous of you, we were ready to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves, because you had become very dear to us. (1 Thessalonians 5:1-8)

Note several things about what Paul did with the Thessalonians:

• Paul did not set out to deceive (v3). He was honest with the Thessalonians about his sufferings (v2).
• Paul was not out to please man (telling them what they wanted to hear) but rather God (v4-6).
• Paul did not just share the good news about God with them, but also opened up his own life (including, of course, the suffering and sin). (v8) Why? Because Paul was affectionately desirous of them and they had become dear to him (v7,8).

Paul did not buy into the lie that missionaries have to be happy all the time. Yes, the gospel is joyful - but the Bible is honest.

In the cases I mentioned at the beginning of this post, I ended up opening up with those supporters I spoke with. No, I didn't tell everyone everything (Paul also says we should be gentle (v7)), but I let people know that I was having a hard time. In many cases, my vulnerability opened up the door to much deeper conversations than may have otherwise been possible. (Your supporters are familiar with suffering, too!) As we together discussed the implications of the gospel in a broken world, our heavy hearts were lightened.

This blog often uses the term "fundraising" (which I don't love) but the truth is that we're building gospel-driven partnerships with our support teams. We are called to share not only the gospel of God but also our own selves. As a missionary and as a fundraiser you are called to minister - but also to be ministered to. Don't neglect that. Be honest. Share truth. Receive grace.

The End of Yourself

There are many things in life that can bring you to the end of yourself.

A terrible boss. Chronic health issues. Long bouts of depression. A failing marriage. A rebellious child. Ongoing addictions. Relentless sin struggles. Deep loneliness. And, of course, fundraising.

If even one of these is weighing on you, you might find yourself struggling to get out of bed in the morning. If two or more are affecting you, you may come to believe that you just can't do it anymore.

Your heart will cry out for relief. Your mind, in those rare occasions where you can think clearly, will be racing to come up with a way to escape. As option after option falls away, you are overcome with despair and cry out even more. It's a deeply painful downward spiral.

If you've never felt that way, just wait - so long as you live long enough, you will.

Yet there is hope. Not wishful thinking hope. Not "it'll all work out" romantic-comedy hope. Not even "God works all things together for good so chin up!" hope. This better hope lies before you, clear as day, but it requires making a choice.

The path you've been walking down thus far has not offered any options. You don't want to be on this road, but you've had little control over the things that have brought you to this point. Yet before you lies a fork in the road with two paths to choose from.

The first path is marked, "The End of Yourself". That path leads to you giving in. It means quitting your job. Or refusing to leave your bed. It means getting a divorce or abandoning your family. It results in offering yourself to your addictions and embracing your sin. It could mean giving up on the fundraising you've worked so hard at. Regardless of what it looks like, that path leads to you making your last stand. You will take control of something. It is the worst of all scenarios, but at least you had some say in it.

But there is another path. Strangely, it too is marked, "The End of Yourself", and it too leads to you giving in. You can't see as far down the path, so the details are hazy, but what is clear is that despair has no place there. Yes, you see pain, as it is obviously not an easy path, and it seems that you may or may not actually quit your job or get healthy or have an easy marriage or finish fundraising. But there are others there and they seem okay. Your addictions will still pull at you along the way and sin will gain a foothold more often than you'd like or expect, but it will never win. This path is not pretty, but it is infinitely better than the first path.

Consider now the words of the Apostle Paul, a man intimately familiar with the second path:

For I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.
(Philippians 4:11-13 ESV)

Paul tells us that down that second path is where we'll discover the gospel. Those who run down either path will shout together, "I can do all things!" But only those heading down the second path will finish with, "through him, my Savior, my God, who strengthens me!"

The gospel tells us that while we were yet sinners, dead in our transgressions and sins, being altogether foolish, disobedient and deceived slaves, Jesus died for us (Rom 5:8, Eph 2:1, Titus 3:3). When we were at our absolute worst, without any hope in the world, God Himself came and rescued us. Nor was this just a once and done rescue - Jesus is still working that same power in the lives of all those who put their trust in Him.

That power is the hope our hearts are crying for. It's a reminder that Jesus came at our most desperate moment and it's a reminder that He has never left our side. He will be there again at our next most desperate moment, as well as the one after that and the one after that. Each time it will require coming to the end of yourself, but you find discover that you can do all things through Him who strengthens you.

Some day you will come to the end of yourself, but remember that it is not the end of the journey. In fact, it could be just the beginning.

Different than NPR

Right now my local NPR station is doing their annual Fall pledge drive (aka fundraiser). There are quite a few things that are different between how NPR does fundraising and how I do it, but one thing in particular really stood out to me this time around:

To raise funds, NPR has to demonstrate that they are really worth giving to.

If that were the case in my fundraising, it would be utterly hopeless.

That's not to say that I'm not tempted to view it that way. I'm always eager to tell my donors all the good stuff that happens. I love telling them about people accepting Jesus, whether directly or indirectly as a result of my particular role in their lives. I delight in telling stories of God increasing the size of our ministry. I passionately tell folks about what I'm learning in the Word or teaching others in the Word.

I'm less eager to tell my donors about the seemingly bad stuff that happens. I often avoid telling them about the people who walk away from Jesus, whether directly or indirectly as a result of my particular role in their lives. I fail to tell stories of God shrinking the size of our ministry. I desperately hope no one asks me what I'm learning in the Word during seasons when God feels distant or what I'm teaching in the Word when my latest talks have been pathetic. (Note: I'm not saying that it's a good thing to not share these things. I'm just saying that it's how my heart works.)

Truth be told, I think my ministry tends to look more like that last paragraph than the one before it most of the time. Or perhaps it's just because those times tend to weigh on me a lot more.

In any case, like I said, if my job as a fundraiser were to convince people that I'm worth giving to, it would be utterly hopeless.

Thankfully, that's not my job!

I don't have to be particularly impressive. I don't have to woo donors with my charm or charisma. I just need to give myself to Jesus, I need to tell prospective donors that I'm giving myself to Jesus, and then I need to ask them to give themselves to Jesus too. That way they're not giving because of me. I'm not worth giving anything to. But He is. And because He is, so am I.

NPR can't say that. (Or at least they can't without a significant change in their worldview!) But I can. And you can. And we should.

So next time you're tempted to think of yourself as more or less than you are, stop thinking about yourself altogether. Jesus has already demonstrated that He is worth giving to. So go.

Go in Jesus' Name.

And I, when I came to you, brothers, did not come proclaiming to you the testimony of God with lofty speech or wisdom. For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. And I was with you in weakness and in fear and much trembling, and my speech and my message were not in plausible words of wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, so that your faith might not rest in the wisdom of men but in the power of God. (1 Corinthians 2:1-5 ESV)