Man, it’s hard to talk about money sometimes. It can feel so exposing, like you’re showing private aspects of yourself to those who don’t have any business seeing that. Other times it can feel invasive, like I’m trying to pry my way into someone else’s life that I don’t have business seeing. At its best, though, money is a wonderful opportunity for connection. Money is vulnerable: Vulnerability is a chance to be seen, a chance to see others.

Allow me to be seen. Things have been really tight at Immerse lately. We simply don’t have enough money to get paid fully for the (honestly) really good work that we do. Simultaneously, we are experiencing miraculous provision. Sometimes mere seconds lie between the freak-out-to-God moment and the random cash showing up on our metaphorical door steps. This month we are cutting back hours drastically and/or donating large chunks of our time to Immerse. We are at roughly 60% of what we need for this month. Last month we were over 80%, which felt amazing. It’s such a crazy mix of hard, depressing reality and amazing, miraculous provision.

There was a day last month where I wanted to quit Immerse and get a normal job that paid a normal paycheck. I faced that inner-reality like a boss, stared it down, and let it pass all the way through me. I knew I wouldn’t quit Immerse, but it was a splash of ice water in the face clueing me in to the condition of my heart. I’m tired. Ministry is hard (ministry would be hard even if I never had to worry about money). I desire security and stability. I desire that for my co-workers and my own family. Those are really good desires and they are threatened on a monthly basis. That’s the reality of my heart.

Last night someone shared a prophetic word with my coworker Mel: “You’re not doing anything wrong with the finances of Immerse.” Wow. So blunt. So encouraging. I think I can speak for both Mel and I (Nate writing here) that it’s so easy to assume fault when things are uncomfortable. It’s so easy to assume that somehow we’re royally screwing things up. But then God speaks, “You’re not doing anything wrong.” Deep breath.

But… Why is this SO HARD?! Why can’t it be easy?

Then I remember that no good story is easy. No good story is free of conflict. No good story has everything go perfectly. Some things are worth the struggle. Worth the uncertainty. Worth the sacrifice. To those of us here at Immerse, people are worth it to us. God has sent a few people into our care and we intend to continue to care for them to the best of our ability for as long as God enables us.

Thank you for seeing me.