surprisingly normal

Jet lag is no fun and my Flemish is really rusty, so I'm continually aware that "we're not in Kansas anymore" (which I said to Elisabeth yesterday eliciting a response of "I've never been to Kansas," which isnt' true, but she made her point in true teen form).  But even in that awareness I am experiencing things as feeling surprisingly normal.  Elisabeth doesn't remember anything but some things look familiar from photos.  I should say she doesn't remember anything significant.  She actually remembered the bread slicer in the grocery store we visited.  She asked if we have seen one since moving back, and I sure don't think so.  I guess it must have been just scary enough to lodge itself  as an episodic memory.  I walked past the machine without even turning my head.  To me it was virtually unnoticeable... surprisingly normal.  

Some of the significant places we saw on our walk in Ghent yesterday (including the house we lived in for three years) struck me as... surprisingly normal.  There was no visceral reaction from Elisabeth.  I would say she showed more interest than the typical tourist seeing something for the first time (but with the knowledge there is something special about this place to our family).

[3 days later]

Yesterday we spent our second day in Ghent.  This time we took a train from Kortrijk.  From the station in Ghent we walked to the city center.  We did some shopping along the way (some thrifting and some department store, and a few things in between).  But the amazing architecture of the city hall, cathedrals, and so one felt familiar, but not surprisingly normal.  Those are pretty impressive buildings.  We took the tour of Gravensteen Castle.  That seemed to be one of Elisabeth's favorite experiences of the day. As we walked around I told Elisabeth about the first part of this post.  Almost recited it word for word.  But I told her how grateful I am that our InterVarsity South Dakota twinning partnership with Ichtus is adding a wonderful dimension to my work at home and giving me opportunities like this moment to serve here in person.  She's grateful for this opportunity, too.

Maybe I should buy a loaf of bread so she can run the slicing machine.  I doubt she would find the experience surprisingly normal.

NSO SANS ME

Today (8/24/25) was the weirdest day of sabbatical (so far, it could definitely be topped before it's all over).  I preached at Emmanuel Mennonite Church.  That was good.  I mean it sincerely, not generically.  But I fill pulpit from time to time and can usually say it "was good." All the parts of the service they planned meshed so well with the message I brought from 1 Corinthians 2. The Spirit was at work and it was a good start to a good day... but weird.

The weird part was having the first NSO (new student outreach) event at South Dakota State University also take place today.  John and Elijah (and a couple of students) had an InterVarsity table at the organization fair... without me.  And I was in Brookings while it was happening.  After church Trina and I had to get on the road to pick up Elisabeth. She tagged along with Natalie for move in weekend.  Move in wasn't until Monday, but they spent the weekend with big brother, big sister, and their spouses.  We met them in Brookings to bring Elisabeth home.  I kind of did my NSO part by taking a student out for ice cream... don't worry, it's not a sabbatical violation because the student was my nephew.  I can do that, right? Trina and my three girls all joined us. Then we went to TJ Maxx because it's across the parking lot from Zesto's and Elisabeth felt like her back to school shopping wasn't done.  While I ate ice cream and then shopped for makeup and cute dresses (in the spirit of full disclosure I did buy something for myself... face/body wipes), Elijah and John were meeting new students.

Before we were done shopping the organization fair finished.  Elijah stopped by TJ Maxx and we debriefed (resting an arm on a rack of shirts).  I can debrief because it's my son and we weren't at a coffee shop, right?  I was encouraged that leaving the ministry with Elijah and John is working out just fine.

I prayed a lot today.  I was so close... I literally drove through campus. I had eyes on the student union.  I was so close. But what really made me close was prayer.  The drive from church to Brookings was about an hour and 40.  Trina was working on a project on her laptop, so we didn't talk much.  And as we drove through that beautiful countryside I remembered (reflecting on past ministry is part of my sabbatical plan).  I was grateful for so many things.  One of the amazing things is how much I have been witness to God's work in my children.  And I was on the edge of tears when I thought about how I have moved into a place in which my children watch me, affirm me, and feel proud of me.

We pulled into Qdoba for a late lunch before my girls arrived.  I remembered sitting at those outside tables with John, Elijah (then a freshman at USF) and a mix of USF and SDSU students (we brought USF students to an SDSU NSO event to show them what InterVarsity looks like).  I kept remembering all day.

I was really close to that org fair. And I realized I was close not because I could have pulled into the parking lot and walked to the student union.  Rather, I was close because I was remembering and interceding.  And in moments like that you get to see what's on God's heart.  And when you are praying fervently for the things on God's heart, you look up and realize he's close, too.

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.