I took a fundraising class in college because I was required to select an emphasis for my major. With corporate and international options never standing a chance (I’m terrible with foreign languages and my business savvy is practically nonexistent), I readily opted for the non-profit route. After all, my college was beautifully nestled in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina where hippies run freely and non-profit organizations seem to flood the street corners – especially when the environment is involved. So when my class started up in the spring, I was willing to give it a shot, even though asking for money had always made me feel awkward, needy and uncomfortable. Not to mention annoying.
Following months of random speaking engagements, awareness booth shifts, penny buckets and local business sponsorships, my team and I managed to scrounge up some $1,100. A success in the eyes of full-time, dirt-poor college kids. I would go on to graduate that May, leaving my fundraising kick behind – ready for bigger and better things.
And here I am now. At it again. Still completely numb to foreign languages and business wits. I still feel awkward, needy and uncomfortable asking people for money. It still makes me feel annoying. But I have to do it and deal with it. It’s part of God’s promise. So I’m putting on my big boy shorts and trying to keep my head up. But it’s tough.
No wealthy (or any) grandparents, a small family with supportive hearts but tight wallets and friends who are all either just as poor as I am or financially flat-lined due to additional schooling. Excuses? Definitely. But I’m a human and I make them. You would too. Now don’t get me wrong here. I’ve been very blessed by some folks so far in this process. My first ever donation was from an out-of-state stranger at an outdoor store in Charlotte. He overheard me discussing my trip and we talked for about 20 minutes. A few days later, I had my first ever donation – $150. Even now, some of my largest unexpected donations have been from young married couples (my age) getting by on entry-level salaries – a paycheck-to-paycheck situation. People have been generous to me and that warms my heart. Even still, I wake up most mornings with a knot in my stomach, questioning the possibility of actually raising $15,500. “I’ve tapped every possible outlet,” I tell myself as I scan my brain for new ideas and potential donors. With not even enough money to launch in July yet, the hope of becoming fully funded seems, some days, impossible. “Does God even want me going on this trip anymore?” “Do people even care about me or what God has called me to do?” I can’t help but think every time I post a plea for donations on social media sites that people whence away with annoyance. “Oh, another post about giving him money.” Clearly, the devil has set up camp in my brain. And he’s pretty comfortable there.
But I was reminded this week by a fellow racer of an encouraging truth. The short and long of it is I probably will never be able to raise $15,500 on my own. That’s basically impossible given my abilities and circumstances. But God can. Does that sound cheesy? Certainly. But only if you don’t really believe it’s true. And although I fight it nearly every day, I do. Friends, God has called me to this mission experience. I can’t explain the in’s and out’s of every detail but He has and that’s the situation. Maybe I don’t harbor the most ideal setting for raising tons of money, or maybe I do. Heck, some people on my squad already have upwards of $12,000 in their accounts. I don’t know the secrets to getting people to open their wallets and I don’t know how to avoid annoying people by being a penny pusher. I’m not a pro at this but no one ever asked me to be. It’s tough. It’s often uncomfortable. And some days, it’s flat out defeating. But it’s a promise. And it’s a sanction. To set forth and serve God in a unique opportunity. A chance to travel the world spreading the good news of Jesus Christ. That’s really what you’re giving money to. Not me. After all, I’m living out of a backpack for a year with the same clothes, shoes and gear I set out with. There isn’t anything lavish about it. Support this trip, not me. And if you have to view it through that lens, stripping me away from the equation entirely, I beg you to do it. Not everyone is inclined to support me, I get that. I’m not pressuring anyone to give. If you can’t connect with what God has planned in this journey, that’s fine. But if you can, I challenge you to do it boldly and with honesty. Will your life be in shambles if you donate an amount that is outside of your comfort zone? Probably not. Can a donation of $10, if honest and meaningful, be more relevant than an aimless $100 tossed my way so I will leave you alone about it? Absolutely. Talk to God. See if this matters to you. And if it does enough for you to give, then give honorably to God, not me. Thankful and blessed by all of my supporters so far. You’re donations bring hope and reassurance. If you would like to talk to me about this trip, my calling or where your money goes, please reach out. I’m anchored in the truth of Jonh 14:12 today.
Peace and love,
Brad
