how to transform fundraising into something ... else

Here I am... haven't written in about three weeks.  I keep saying some version of "The weekly rhythm will come after..."  I'm with Trina at an airbnb in Spirit Lake, Iowa.  We are attending the Okoboji Bible Conference.  It's been several days of impactful teaching and restorative moments of slow paced living (and of course some thrifting).  So naturally what I will write about today is May and June fundraising (I promise to write about this week another time).

I sent a newsletter to my ministry partners a week ago.  I didn't say supporters or donors.  I said ministry partners.  Ministry Partner Development (MPD) is a phrase we use in InterVarsity.  We believe partnership is more than checkwriting (or setting up EFT in a brief moment and then mostly forgetting about it).  

During May and June I finally acted on the thing I have recognized for several years.  I don't have enough giving commitments to meet our annual budget.  Knowing about it and acting on it have not proven to be synonymous.  But this spring (with some supervisory pressure... er, encouragement) I set aside a lot of time to MPD.  Fundraising can be a drag.  Most of my team and colleagues don't list it as a "top 10 things I love about my job."  It turns out that in contrast, Ministry Partner Development is amazing!  I have completed 26 years of service with InterVarsity.  You'd think this wouldn't be a new lesson for me.  And maybe it isn't new, just the 2025 version of something God needs to do in my heart from time to time.

The picture below is "The MPD Cycle." We set a lot of goals in the engage and follow up portions of the cycle.  If you reach your engagement goal then asks will naturally follow.  The identify, thank, and report stages are where we spend time procrastinating the time we should be spending in the engage and follow up stages.  And that, my young padawan, is how you turn the MPD cycle into the fundraisin cycle (that thing no one likes).  I had a lot of asks the past couple of months (which those of you taking good notes recognize as requiring a lot of engages).  I'll be honest.  I have loved it!  When you meet with a potential partner you talk about the things God is doing.  And, surprise, talking about what God is doing is encouraging (to the prospect and to me)!

I have been describing my experience this way: "My hard work has given me a chance to see God's provision."  God provided for a $10,000 year-end deficit I was facing (along with the June support I needed to finish the fiscal year, and then some)!  And as I work to address the annual deficit in giving commitments I'm about 70% toward a goal of $12,000 in new, ongoing support annually.  Amen, praise God, hallelujah! Thank you, Jesus.

Part of my sabbatical plan is to read old newsletters and blogposts as I reflect on what God has done in these 26 years.  Today I read blogposts from 2007 (my first year of blogging).  That's about 8 years into my time with InterVarsity (and it would turn out to be just a year or so away from God calling us to Belgium and an intense season of MPD). 8 years in student ministry definitely qualifies one for veteran status.  So when you read the following excerpt from June 6, 2007 feel free to ask (as I did when I read it today) why was that guy so clueless?

We came home from our mission trip to Pine Ridge a few days ago because our funding came up short.  I don't even know if I wrote that sentence right.  Should it say...
We came home... because we didn't raise enough money.
We came home... because God didn't provide for our whole time there, or didn't want us there the whole time.
We came home... because people didn't give as God led.
[You can read the entire post here.]

Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on my 35 year old self.  It was actually a difficult decision (and now that I'm a manager I realize the difficulty it must have been for my supervisor to endorse that decision as well).  But today I am encougaed to remember God has provided for 26 years of ministry.  And as I said, May and June (and July and August) have given me much encouragment.

And now back to that that newsletter  I mentioned recently sending to my partners...  It made sense to detail my funding situation.  I told a couple of stories to illustrate that this kind of life can be hard.  But those stories were intended to set up this punchline: this life of dependence is so incredibly rewarding!  I'm a little afraid the punchline didn't land.  (After calling this life "amazing" and telling a poignant story from our time in Belgium) I wrote, "A life and ministry that is dependent on fundraising has it's challenges, but I have a hundred more stories like that because we have depended on God and his people to provide."  In case I wasn't clear I'm saying it here: This. Life. Is. Amazing.  I'm so thankful to know God as our provider (Jehovah Jireh if you're into Genesis stories, Hebrew words, or Elevation Worship).  

In response to that newsletter, a friend who lives outside the U.S. replied, "Thank you for such an open email.  Somehow I have always assumed that funds and fundraising were never really a problem for Americans in America, I'm so sorry.  I will be supporting your work from now on on a monthly basis."

Did I just write a world class, manipulative fundraising letter that led to a new donor, or did I open up in such a genuine way, focused on God's goodness that I got a new partner?  Sounds like the kind of question my 35 year old self would ask. 

I replied to the email with many words of gratitude and these words, "I hope that it came across as me saying I wouldn't trade the struggles and the life of dependence for the world."  I said it because it's true.  I hope when my 68 year old self is looking at the words of my 53 year old self he will remember it, too.

a drive around the lake

Most of my family are working at a camp at Byron Bible Camp this week.  I have been going out in the evenings to read stories to kids.  A couple nights ago it stormed.  It didn't really as it was just an ominous gray/green sky and heavy rain.  When I left camp it was not really that dark and not really light, and it was still raining a bit.  Somehow those conditions seemed like an invitation to take a drive around the lake and begin some sabbatical reflection about the days when college boy was working at Camp Byron.  I tried to remember where Harmons' cabin was on the north side.  I had a pretty good guess, but I think it's been replace.  All the way at the end was the lodge we (very) occasionally used for something.  I remember having junior high campers there for a cookout/party and we played a silly game in which you wore three clothespins and any time somone got you to say "I" you had to give one up.  It was an island theme and that was supposed to make us sound like we were from the Caribbean.  Not many years later that sort of thing would have been considered politically incorrect (and we would probably have done it anyway).  And some years after that I would have considered it cultural appropriation and reluctantly played along with a grumbling heart.  And now I would give a gentle instruction about it (maybe a good neighbor themed message) and come up with another idea for fun.  

I remembered I used to ride my bike from the valley camp location to the waterfront on the lake.  Measured the distance last night from the north side and it was about 5 miles cabin to beach.  I'm thankful Joel let me have that moment of peace and a bit of exercise.  I would leave a little before the bus each way.  The kids thought it was great to pass me.  When I timed it right I got there as kids were unloading.

I pulled into one of the lakeside use areas.  Back then we did some camp sponsored Sunday services as an outreach.  I remember writing a skit about the apostle Peter in the format of a daytime talk show.  It was called "The Byron Lake Show" parodying a show of the era, "The Riki Lake Show."  We had some of our castmember sitting in the audience.  In my memory it was pretty clever.  Sometimes I miss those days of being in my early 20s, knowing everything, and being willing to try about anything for ministry.  During the pandemic we did Bethel services there.  In a way that seems as far back in time as the camp days even though they were nearly 30 years apart.  There's now an accessible fishing dock there.  I think I'll go back and have a time of retreat and reflection ... R & R.  Maybe that's what I'll call these sabbatical moments. 

Perhaps because the weather invited melancholy, or perhaps because my soul sometimes sounds like a cello, I began to ask if I did any good back then.  I didn't give God the space to answer.  I think the answer is yes.  But when I go back I want to spend some time asking God to remind me of the good things done.  That seems like a question from a better heart posture than, "Did we do any good?"  

sabbatical: pilgrimage to the past

July 1 marks the start of a six month sabbatical.  I'm thankful InterVarsity values this.  I believe it is a way to encourage longevity in campus ministry.  InterVarsity requires a well-considered plan and I had to have my application for sabbatical approved by my supervisor and a VP.  I believe I have a good plan in place.  And I believe God led me in the planning.  One of the elements of my plan is pilgrimage.
Pilgrimage as I intend it is revisiting the places that have been significant in my ministry years.  I will be spending time at the Bible camp where I served as a college student in the mid-90s and the places I have lived in my 26 years with InterVarsity.  I'm going to be remembering with reverence the ways God was at work in my family, my ministry, and my soul.  The remembering will include reading old journals and blog posts, so it makes sense to me to document the process of remembering with new posts.  My goal is a weekly post of at least a paragraph or two.  See you in July.

53

 

I turned 53 this week.  Although someone referred to it as "the big 5, 3" there is really nothing big about it.  I got to spend an afternoon with my wife, all four of my children, and my two children-in-law.  It was not a big event (we're talking Panda Express take out level event), and it wasn't completely birthday boy-centric.  In fact nearly as many gifts were given to other people (late wedding gift, late birthday gift) as I received.  It was perfect.

What I had hoped to do (but the idea came too late to implement) was hand everyone a reverse birthday card.  I had the idea of giving a gift (of heartfelt words on paper) to those in the room whom I treasure.  [Just to be clear I treasure everyone who was in the room.]  That concept might be more aligned with some non-Western cultures, but it felt pretty novel to me.  Since I didn't have time to get it done that day I have embarked on a project.  I am writing 53 letters of encouragement to people in my life.  That list includes a lot of obvious names (like all the people in the room at my party).  But for the other slots I just started writing names.  Some were more obvious than others.  There are colleagues who have been my partners in the gospel for many years.  There are local friends who have stood by me (and next to whom I have stood) as the world seems to tear itself apart.  There are names who need far more encouragement than my few words can offer (but I'm trusting God to meet their needs).  And there are names that just came to mind for some reason.  I'm not letting myself obsess over the names that should be on the list... but it's tempting.

I think this writing project is good for my soul.  I think there is something Christlike in considering how the person will receive it.  The words in the letter matter of course, but there is more.  When I print for someone who can't read my cursive, or when I give some care to what the address looks like (yeah, I address in different handwritten fonts), or when I purposefully add a coffee cup circle (not the whole circle, mind you, but about 300° on the right edge) to the back of my graphic designer son-in-law's envelope I think I'm saying I know you and I love you.  

10 down.  43 to go.

weakness is the way

I was reminded recently of a J. I. Packer quote from the book, Weakness is the Way, which I shared with my son shortly before his high school graduation in the infamous Spring of 2020. "…we are all weak and inadequate, and we need to face it… We need to be aware of our limitations and to let this awareness work in us humility and self-distrust, and a realization of our helplessness on our own. Thus we may learn our need to depend on Christ, our Savior and Lord, at every turn of the road, to practice that dependence as one of the constant habits of our heart, and hereby to discover what Paul discovered before us: 'when I am weak, then I am strong." 

In my InterVarsity ministry life, the South Dakota Area Team is shrinking. While it has been great to welcome Elijah to the team, Caleb’s transfer and the resignations of Rachael and Chris have left me in a place that’s hard to describe. I am grateful for the ministry each had with our team. But I am also faced with the dilemma of unstaffed student groups. I am tempted to believe that trying harder is the way, or that I need the (right) good idea (I have lots of good ideas... if you are familiar with strengthsfinder you will know what it means that ideation is one of my strengths) but weakness is the way. I have a God for this very circumstance. In Isaiah 42:3 we read "...a bruised reed he will not break, and a faintly burning wick he will not quench." 

Would you pray for me, my staff, your pastor, anyone you know serving the Lord who feels like the task is too big? Pray we would remember who is our strength and that we would trust in God alone.

10 Years

An interesting experience this summer was becoming aware that it was the tenth anniversary of our move back to the U. S. from Belgium (on June 23 to be precise).  "Becoming aware" is a careful choice of words.  I don't celebrate this every year.  Most years I don't even think about it.  I was surprised by my emotions.  I had a hard time naming my feelings but there was a mournful element in the mix.  I was taking an online Zoom training that afternoon and had a difficult time focusing.  I felt like I should have been with Trina and the four kids (none of whom were home) doing something meaningful, or at least having a group hug.  But I was alone for most of the day.  I thought about people and things I missed about that season of life.  It seemed like a "10 Things I Miss about Belgium" list was going to end up as a Facebook post.  The next day I decided gratitude was the way forward, but not just gratitude for those amazing 3 years in Belgium.  I decided to consider things for which I am grateful that transcend the 3 years in Belgium, the 2 (strange and difficult) years in Fargo/Moorhead, and the 8 years in Huron.  And I decided to resurrect the blog as it was so helpful to me a decade ago to process and archive my thoughts.

Here are 10 things, gifts from God, for which I am thankful.

1. Elijah, Abby Kate, Natalie, and Elisabeth:  Those four kids were amazing in Belgium, and they have done a pretty good job of sustaining the amazing back in the states.  Both baby Elisabeth and college boy Elijah have had profound impacts on the ministry to which we've been called (and Happy Cake and Natalie Joy have been great, too).  Cute babies break down barriers to new friendships and college boys help plant InterVarsity chapters.
2. The Gospel of Mark: The way Mark was central in the process of Trina and I answering God's call to Belgium is matched by the amazing impact Mark tracks I've led at camps have had and the impact The Mark Drama has had in South Dakota (and now Wisconsin).  No other book of the Bible, sermon series, conversation, or anything has helped me grow in my love and dedication to Jesus as much as Mark.
3. Another kind of family:  The years we were distant from our families came with challenges.  But God provided (as promised in Mark 10:29-30) brothers (and sisters and aunts and uncles...) from different mothers, both in Belgium and now in Huron.  We love the families we were born into, but the other kind of family has been given as gifts to us.
4. My supervisors: in Belgium I had 3 supervisors (at once).  Ask me to explain it sometime.  I'll try, but even then it was a little complicated.  In my current role as South Dakota Area Ministry Director for InterVarsity I've had 4 supervisors.  I currently have an interim supervisor (and I'll throw in a 6th for my NDSU years).  I suppose I could do a gratitude list for each of them, but I'll just say, Renee, Tom, Edith, Terry, Tim, Amy, Adam, Josh, and Peter, thanks for all you taught me.  [Is it just me or is that a lot of supervisors in 13 years?]  And I guess I'll say, thank you to my hiring supervisor, Paul, the only supervisor who could handle me for a stretch of 9 years (all by himself mind you). 
5. Churches:  I could say I'm thankful for the church, all of it, but I mean churches of which I have been a part.  Seems like most of my adult years have been in a church called Bethel something or other (missed our chance in Moorhead by attending Salem Evangelical Free instead of Bethel E F).  In Belgium it was De Bron (The Source).  Churches have been connected to several of the points above.  My kids have received discipleship and care.  That other kind of family has mostly (but not exclusively) been in churches we have attended.  They are places where I'm known and where my service to God is appreciated.  They are places where I get to serve, exercise my gifts, and be blessed by others in much the same way.
6. South Dakota: We missed it when we lived in Belgium and Moorhead.  When we visited it felt like a sanctuary.  The past 8 years of living here have provided several opportunities to share our favorite hikes, sites, and people with good friends from Europe.  And I love hosting my InterVarsity colleagues for training events, conferences, or visiting unplanted campuses. 
7. Teams: I do not mean Microsoft Teams (still haven't figured out how to make that useful).  But the colleagues I worked with in Belgium (and those working around Europe) as well as my South Dakota InterVarsity staff team are special groups to me. 
8. New Places: One of the exciting things about life in Europe was traveling to conferences (or the occasional vacation) on roads on which we had never been.  We visited many Belgian cities and quite a few nations in Western Europe and the UK.  But I still discover places in South Dakota.  Recently we drove home from the Black Hills on Highway 34 (which I probably have driven at some point but not in recent memory) after enjoying a hike to Community Caves in Spearfish Canyon) a hike our family had never taken, even though we love the Black Hills and have been there many times.  Old favorites are lovely, but there's something special about new places, too.
9. My team of intercessors: There is a special group of four people who meet monthly to pray.  There are dozens upon dozens of people who pray for our family and our ministry (and I give thanks for them all), but these four carry a heavier burden.  In the difficult stretches of ministry (and every other part of life) these are the people who get the raw, unfiltered story.  They truly help bear our burdens.  I don't believe I'm exaggerating when I say I don't think I could have gotten through the 20-21 school year with out them.  They have now begun their third year in this role.  I can hardly believe they said yes again.  But Christie, Dave, Deb, and Diana, I cannot thank you enough.
10. Trina: It's a challenge to put in a couple of sentences all I appreciate about my wife.  But I think this is the heart of all the good things I want to write.  Whether a situation finds her enthusiastic or afraid, experienced or just beginning, at home or far away, she serves and she does the next right thing.  That's been a great blessing to me.  Love you, Babe.

Antwerp near the end
of our time in Belgium

they're gone

I had a sad experience.  My passport expired.  That's not so sad.  But in order to get a new one I had to send the expired passport in with my application and fees.  And they don't give it back.  Inside that passport were a lot of stamps.  And all of those stamps were reminders of great times on great trips, with great friends, and a European life that is now behind us.  
Deep breath.  
Sniff, sniff.
Let's get to work filling this one.