Childbirth and Fundraising

I can’t remember the exact moment I realized I’d been lied too. Perhaps it was during that first ultrasound, when I noticed that my still forming daughter appeared to have a literal pig snout. (Later she would be born with an actual human nose, a very cute one in fact.) It may have been during the birth, when I watched a giant needle enter my wife’s spine for the epidural. (It required 1 doctor to place the needle, and 3 nurses to keep me from fainting). Or maybe even hours later when I watched a little purple blob make her way into the world for the first time, wailing and screaming as they forced me to cut her loose. Or then again, it could have been during one of those 8,000 diaper changes, when I lost all hope that I would ever be cool again. I guess it’s even conceivable, that it was during one of the many, many sleepless nights listening to that tiny being screech like a howler monkey.

Whenever the exact moment, at some point I understood that all the people who told me how beautiful having a baby was, how magical an experience and how very deep and meaningful it would be, were all bold faced liars. In the moments of early parenthood, I didn’t for one second think they had any idea what they were talking about. It wasn’t until later, that first smile, the first giggle. When I watched those first steps and felt those little arms as they hugged me. The whispered words of “Daddy” and “I Love you.” It was in those moments that I understood the others. Without the struggle, without the fears and anxieties, the love would not have found such deep root and such profound meaning.

Fundraising seems to be a similar proposition. At first I found nothing enjoyable about the process. There is a thought that you have signed up for your dream. Your purpose and your passion have come together and you are moments away from leaving a world behind to share the love of God across the globe. But before you can, you need money. So immerse yourself in awkward conversations where finances seem to linger in the background. Travel the country sharing your vision with anyone who will listen. Wake up at night worried that you don’t have a job, that money isn’t coming in, and begin to feel the fear that maybe you’ll never make it. And in moments like these, fall headfirst into faith.

It’s an odd thought that this fundraising process, while painful and difficult, is not only necessary, but of great benefit. There is probably no better preparation for someone leaving behind what’s comfortable and safe than to have them participate in a process that requires total commitment, the pressing on of your vision, and encampment at the feet of God. As we neared the end of our fundraising journey and looked forward to our time on the field, we did so grateful for being stretched, pushed, and made uncomfortable. We were thankful for relationships forged out of this process and for a life that now more than ever is dependent on God and the faith and love of his people.

I love my kids at a much more profound level because of both the joy and the pain. I love my God and I love His people to my core, for those same reasons.