I hate the unknown. I am a researcher by nature, and I have always been an overachiever, wanting to be the most competent at everything, to do all things exactly right. Basically, I’m your classic perfectionist. Doing things perfectly protects me from vulnerability, criticism, judgment, weakness. This need to be perfect and for self-protection was the root of my fear and hesitation towards support-raising. After all, support-raising was something I hadn’t mastered (and didn’t know how to do in any way) and wouldn’t be able to without trial and error (I hate trial and error). It required asking people not only for their time and attention and prayer, but for long-term monetary investment. It required sharing my story and entering into vulnerability with everyone from family to strangers, laying myself bare and open to criticism, rejection, and judgment. It brought up every fear and lie I try not to have to think about: I am a burden. I am not worthy of investing in. I am not old enough or mature enough for this work. I am asking too much of people. I am not enough. I will let these people down.
Despite all of these fears, I stepped into support-raising anyway because I knew that missions was the Lord’s call on my post-grad life and because I knew faith requires action. If I had faith that the Lord calls me worthy, that He will equip me for every good work, that He is faithful to see his works to completion, then I needed to walk in that. So I did, and it was terrifying, but it also was/is amazing. You see, in my strive for perfection I miss out the opportunity (and the command) to surrender to the Lord, to give up the tight control I try to maintain in every area of my life. Keeping my circle small and my life private, pursuing self-sufficiency, and avoiding any sort of risk or dependency all feels safe, but the truth is there is no real safety outside the protection of the Lord, who calls his children into boldness, surrender, dependence, and vulnerability. And when I began to enter into those spaces, voice quivering and heart pounding, I found the lies Satan had been whispering in my ear were just that: lies. Meeting after meeting I found myself received with joy and eagerness, with generosity, enthusiasm, and prayer. People actually noticed the transformation God has brought about in my life over the years, they saw the need and the vision for the work of Pilgrim House, and they genuinely desired to partner with me in this ministry…I truly never expected such a response, especially from people I hadn’t spoken to in years, and even from complete strangers.
Support-raising is exhausting and goes against every deeply-ingrained, self-protective instinct in my body, yet it is also the most beautiful and fruitful experience. When I share my story and my passion for the work I’ll be doing, when I invite people to partner with me, I open myself up to criticism, but I also open myself up to the very opposite. I allow people to really see and know me, and in that I receive the truth of my identity and the truths of the Word and the Lord, spoken from the mouths of others. When doubts and questions consume my mind, maybe I don't need to isolate myself with my Bible until everything makes sense. Maybe I just need to enter into community and allow God to do what He does: work through his people to remind me of what is true and to bring rest to my mind. Man, how much joy, peace, and revelation have I missed out on in my life by not opening up myself to others in this way sooner? I won't over-glorify support-raising because of course there are moments of discouragement, but the vast majority of meetings have left me with an even more profound love for and awe of the Lord, an even deeper sense of gratitude for the way He has redeemed and restored my life, and incredible anticipation of what lies ahead. I have less control over my life than ever before, but I've never walked in greater freedom.