“That will take at least three years.” Those were the words that came out of my mouth as I looked at the Zoom screen with four faces in front of me, including my own, which exuded 40% defeat and 60% uncertainty.
I did NOT want to start my own ministry thing.
I had a negative stereotype about it, and I remembered how much I floundered on my own in a ministry re-planting assignment right out of college.
Back then, as now, all the ingredients for something good were there, except for the one that makes me succeed: structure. Not only the day-to-day structure you create for yourself, but also the complex system of people, ideas, and programs that make up an organization.
While my husband encouraged me because it sounded compelling, I dreamed of sitting in meetings with teams, being part of something already formed. I remained lost and depressed in that assignment until three years later, when I finally got placed on the large team in the more complex structures where I thrived.
I know myself. Some people do well without answering to anyone in their day-to-day work. Not me. I would rather have a wall to bump into than no walls at all. It’s just how I function.
Not only that, but in the twenty years since my first job, I had hired many people who made career transitions and brought them onto our team, which required fundraising. I know how long it takes to build a stable budget to get the work off the ground—about 3 years.
Starting from scratch would take at least that much time, which seemed like a waste since I had cleared my calendar to be fully available for the work I wanted to do.
We’d have no wiggle room. We couldn’t carry a temporary deficit in our account like we could with my former employer, who measured by fiscal-year income, not month to month. It would be sink or swim, and since I don’t like sinking, it would be like my swim lessons as a child. I would doggy-paddle like a minnow for a long time before ever graduating to a shark, or even a competent fish.
I told those discerning faces on Zoom that I would stop interviewing for jobs and pivot to the long, slow process of establishing a 501(c)(3). If I got through one step, I would move on to the next. We had no idea how long it could take. Sometimes it takes years.
That was December of 2023.
In early 2024, I did two more pre-interviews before I fully accepted what had already been decided. I stopped interviewing for regular jobs and filed the articles of incorporation on April 29. I received an Employer Identification Number (EIN) on May 14. The federal tax-exemption letter came on May 31, 2024.
This made things official.
California tax-exempt status came a year after I forgot about it, with an effective date going back to May 9, 2024. Luckily, I didn’t wait for state approval to begin.
After receiving the EIN and tax exemption, I went to the bank to set up a nonprofit account with a $0 balance. These accounts are highly regulated and take longer to approve. I had to share my first board meeting notes and my bylaws. After jumping through all those hoops, I researched an online donation platform, recommended by other small nonprofit leaders, that charged no fees.
Finally, on July 19, 2024, All Gen launched our first campaign to raise $10,000 with 100 moms willing to back the ministry. My first tiny paycheck came that next September.
In truth, Jeff helped me see that this unpaid work had been growing for a few years. He encouraged me to try things and experiment while the stakes were low. This perspective gave me the confidence to keep going.
Since that first paycheck, the board of directors has steadily increased my hours and salary in proportion to the work and funds coming in for our agreed-upon budget. A year ago, we invested in a necessary next step: giving All Gen a visible presence with a website and logo. We are refreshing that website now.
And, as of this month, my role is a full-time job with a full-time salary. It happened. It took three years, but I made it.
We did it.
Nearly 25 years ago, I pivoted after 3 years of attempting to create structure and never quite finding my footing. But this time, the bricks have been laid step by step, and I’m staying on this journey.
Maybe I’m a planter after all. Or maybe some things we want to see require us to create from scratch, even if our main occupation has always been to improve upon what is there.
