My Duolingo owl looks like I drew it in MS Paint in 1997.
For a second I thought my phone was broken. Then I realized they did it on purpose.
That's taste. AI can't do that part yet.
Anyway... I like the owl.
I ran ultra-lean and avoided fundraising until I was selling my 401k.
The shoe cleaner at the mall understands something I didn't:
Your dignity isn't found in avoiding rejection. It's found in serving something bigger than your ego.
When building volunteer teams, I'd think of perfect people then talk myself out of asking:
"They're too busy"
"They've got too much going on"
So often, my invitation was the answer to THEIR prayer.
The same is true for financial partnership.
"Don't say other people's no for them."
I learned this at https://t.co/WMO0cIYbaU but ignored it for my own fundraising.
Burned through $150k saying "no" for 100+ people who would have said "yes."
When I finally asked? 50% became monthly supporters.
That mall kiosk guy cleaning shoes has more fundraising courage than most entrepreneurs and ministry leaders.
500+ pitches this month. Hundreds of rejections. Still shows up tomorrow.
We quit after 1 uncomfortable conversations.
Succumbing to our insecurity is expensive.
Can you get 25 people to give $200/month?
That's $5k monthly. $60k annually.
You are building:
- Prayer warriors who actually pray
- Accountability when you're drifting
- Advisors who see blind spots
One major donor can disappear. 25 partners create momentum.
Tyler Prieb challenged me: "Stop trying to download your entire vision in one pitch. Focus on ONE thing."
Every call made our vision clearer.
The parts where I stumbled? Not ready.
The parts that flowed? Conviction.
You can't get this clarity hiding behind your laptop.
Silicon Valley founders expect 100+ rejections before landing one yes.
Faith-driven entrepreneurs? We spiritualize our fear:
- "I'm not ready"
- "God will provide" (while doing nothing)
- "I'm bootstrapping" (translation: I'm hiding)
I know because I did all three.
As CEO, I was the only one who could cast this vision. No one else could speak to it with the same passion and clarity.
Your vision needs your voice. Your passion. Your story.
This week, make the call you've been avoiding.
The God who humbled me through emptying my bank account was the same God who filled it through His people.
$150k out. $180k in.
But the second amount came with something money can't buy: A community invested in the vision.
What's the hardest phone call you've been avoiding?
Mine cost me $150k and almost killed our venture.
Sometimes the thing you're avoiding is the breakthrough you need.
Monthly support for our non-profit venture ranged from $50 to $500 per month.
Everyone was intrigued, even if they said no. No one acted like I was bothering them or wasting their time.
The rejection I feared around fundraising didn't exist.
Fundraising as a non-profit isn't begging people to give me money.
It's giving them an invitation to be part of something bigger.
To store up treasure in heaven. To participate in kingdom impact.
Perhaps my biggest area of growth was in my relationship and faith in Jesus.
The exercise of fundraising stretched and humbled me.
There was freshness in revelation on how much Jesus cares about my heart.
Raised $180k over 4 months.
More importantly, raised up a community invested in the vision. Prayer warriors. Accountability.
They pushed me, encouraged, and called me out.
I thought I needed money. I needed accountability.
The people who surprised me most when fundraising for a non-profit venture?
The ones I thought weren't worth the time to call because they didn't have a high capacity to donate.
I get emotional thinking about how much God humbled me during this season.
I burned through $150k of my own money rather than make a single fundraising call.
By year two? Broke. Selling my 401k to keep our lives afloat.
All because picking up the phone felt beneath me.
My ego cost me $150k and almost 2 years of time.
I burned through $150k of my own money rather than make a single fundraising call.
After our Rocket Games exit, I thought I was set. Two years of runway. No begging required.
By year two? Broke. Selling my 401k. Venture dying. Here's what my pride actually cost me: