![My Employment Diary]()
by Chris Horst | Dec 4, 2013 | Blog |
I still don’t know why I answered my phone. I didn’t recognize the number, but took the risk and put my clunky Blackberry to my ear. Matthew introduced himself. He had recently sold his law firm and was smitten with the mission of HOPE International. I almost declined the call, but I’m sure glad I didn’t.
That call came just over five years ago. At the time, I was new to my role as a fundraiser with HOPE. I’m sure Matthew sensed my nervousness, but he was gracious. We small-talked for a bit and then he asked me about my work. I told him of a crazy trip my new wife, Alli, and I were taking across the country. We dubbed the trip 10ten10 because we had planned ten events in ten states to commemorate HOPE’s tenth anniversary.
[As an aside, yes, the now vintage (and embarrassing) trip blog still exists. Thanks, Mom, (commenter name “P.M.” for “Proud Mother”) for the blog comments!]
Matthew liked the concept. And he decided to throw his weight behind it. He offered to match dollar-for-dollar every donation from the trip, up to $5,000. I pumped my fist in my office, but played it cool on the phone, pretending I received that sort of pledge often. I hadn’t (ever).
Alli and I started our 10ten10 trip in Pennsylvania and wound our way west to Seattle, then south to San Diego, and finally back east to Colorado. We held events all along the trail. As Oregon Trail aficionados, we were saddened to not ford any rivers or hunt any bison. But, at one Wyoming ranch, we did hunt prairie dogs (this is very normal, legal and humane in Wyoming—just trust me on this one). And, our Ohioan host was one of the nation’s top Cutco salesmen. And we exceeded our fundraising goals. All told, 77 new donors gave over $25,000 to fund HOPE’s work around the world during the trip.
The trip launched me into a career I’ve come to love. I like the trips, the days where my car becomes my remote office, and even the occasional crazy person who accuses HOPE of various sorts of heresy. And I really like writing. I started writing with these very poorly written early blog posts. Since then, I’ve written one short blog post for 60 straight months. “Practice makes better” and next month, my first book, Mission Drift, officially launches.
[As a second aside: I can’t think of anything that “screams Christmas gift” more than an IOU preordered copy of the book! Am I right?]
But most of all, I love our donors. Young and old, pastors and entrepreneurs, Anglicans and Baptists, oilmen and activists. Bankers and lawyers, like Matthew. They hail from different vocations, but they share affection for Good Samaritanism and for the Good News. And they make my work anything but the daily grind.
In mid-2006, HOPE extended me a job offer. I still am not sure why, as my previous work was not exactly related. I had worked as a construction laborer, a butcher’s assistant, and an amusement park ride operator (well, technically a senior ride operator, responsible for commandeering the fearsome Sky Princess). But they did. And I joined the grassroots HOPE team as Chief Gopher. That wasn’t my actual title, but for a tiny nonprofit with less than 10 headquarters staff, that’s basically what I became.
Then my boss shipped me off to Romania. Because who doesn’t love traveling, basically, to the Siberian Tundra in the dead of winter? I’m still not sure if it was a promotion or a demotion, but I accepted the challenge with long underwear and parka in tow. After completing a three-month feasibility study, I returned back to the States. HOPE had hired a Chief Gopher in my absence so I found a new role. After a brief stint in our human resources department, I moved over to the fundraising team.
The HOPE International global team, May 2013
When I made that move, our donors were already surging behind HOPE’s mission. They were absolutely the wind beneath our wings. In the 2005 fiscal year, we barely eclipsed $3M in revenue. By 2008, that number crested $6M. This year, Lord willing, we’ll cross $11M for the first time. The HOPE donor ranks swelled all the while. From under 1,000 supporters in 2006 to over 4,000 this year. The growth in other areas has been even more dramatic. From under 10 US staff in 2006 to over 70 now. And most importantly, from serving just over 100,000 clients in 2006 to nearly 600,000 today.
As HOPE’s support base has grown, our team of regional representatives has grown along with it—now stretching from Southern California to New England. I count it one of my greatest professional joys to serve alongside this talented group of HOPE ambassadors. In our cities, we enjoy the privilege of representing HOPE to our partner churches and donors, like Matthew.
When I called Matthew after our 10ten10 trip to share the exciting news about meeting the $5,000 match, he made our second phone call even more memorable than the first. He said he wanted to match the whole thing. All $25,000. As 2013 comes to a close, I’m swelling with gratefulness for Matthew and the thousands who have joined him in propelling the mission of HOPE around the world. When the all-powerful Creator entered the world in a manger, it was a breathtaking and unexpected act of generosity. And this Christmas, amidst all the asking and fundraising, I want HOPE donors reading this post to know how abundantly grateful we are for you. Thank you for reflecting the surprising generosity of Jesus.
by Chris Horst | May 8, 2012 | Blog |
A tense cloud hovered above the desk that separated us. Meeting in an aging office building in a small Romanian town, Dorian articulated a troubling reality about his organization: Nobody liked it.
I was in Romania to find a good microfinance organization. Friends of HOPE funded an exploratory trip to determine whether Romania would be a good place for us to expand. With a presence nearby in Ukraine, Russia and Moldova; Romania was a natural next step for our expansion. Traveling the country by train for three months, I met with dozens of leaders to learn more about the needs of entrepreneurs and about the current resources that were available to them in their country. It was largely encouraging, but my meeting with Dorian gave me pause.
Dorian aired many grievances about his clients. His organization planned business training sessions and no clients show up. They offered business loans, but very few paid them back. They offered consulting services, but nobody was buying. Their clients didn’t like or value their products. That reality would normally prompt sympathy from me, not frustration. But I felt much more of the latter because of his closing remarks:
We’re sad that nobody is showing up for our training sessions or paying back their loans, but you know, we’re telling them about Jesus. And that’s all that truly matters.
Dorian’s comments contained a semblance of truth. I believe wholeheartedly that we need to share Jesus with those we serve. And in that light, Dorian’s enthusiasm about the gospel is admirable. But that’s where my agreement with him stops.
Slapping an ichthus on a jug of spoiled milk does not honor God. Searing a cross on a hamburger doesn’t make it taste like filet mignon. I don’t care how “Christian” your school is; if all your students fail, I’m not sending my kid there. We serve a God who created an earth that holds its axis and planets that hold their orbit. God articulated a breathtaking and precise blueprint for his tabernacle. And our God instructs us to do likewise, commanding we do our work with excellence.
Dorian spoke as if creating a substandard product was honoring to God simply because of the words he spoke. But Christian shoddy is still shoddy. Our creator demonstrated superb taste and strong attention to detail in his craftsmanship. When we ignore the needs of our customers, treat them with disdain and “ichthus-wash” it with spirituality, we do not reflect the full nature of our creator.
by Chris Horst | Dec 15, 2010 | Blog |
It is more blessed to give than to receive.
How many times will you hear these wise words this holiday season? This is my favorite time of year primarily because of this season’s emphasis on giving. The charitable and gift-giving yearnings among us all are stoked and encouraged more in December than at any other time of the year. This spirit is encapsulated and affirmed in what might be our favorite Christmas saying: It is more blessed to give than to receive.
The axiom could not be truer. Giving is a joy. Research suggests that generous people are happier people. Generous countries are happier countries. Benevolence brings vibrancy to our faith. Historically, openhandedness and abundant giving have been the fragrance of the Church. Part of our mandate as Christians includes a call to a countercultural understanding of our role as stewards, rather than owners, of our time and treasure. I’ll just speak for myself, but my hunch is others will resonate: My charity often robs the poor of the opportunity to give, rather than encouraging generosity.
We hold a collective agreement that giving is more blessed than receiving. Accordingly, we need to invest more energy and intentionality around promoting generosity among the people to whom we give. When the poor become more than recipients, actually becoming donors and volunteers themselves, the very soul of generosity is unleashed.
Pay it forward-ism should be our rally cry. Stories from places Romania and Uganda compel me to give in this way:
Inspired by the generosity of donors to their country, a group of Romanians determined to replicate this generosity themselves. This month, 50 microfinance clients of HOPE’s partner program in Romania participated in funding and packaging over 12,000 Christmas shoeboxes for orphans in their community.
In Uganda, one man—Bishop Hannington—has catalyzed an entire community around this concept. Even though the town was recovering from a war, and poor in every way imaginable, he preached a surprising and seemingly impossible message of generosity. Even the very poorest in this community responded to his call to live generously. One woman, both elderly and crippled, put an exclamation point on Bishop Hannington’s message (4:57 in the video):
I heard what was taking place. And even though I am crippled, I, too, wanted to give.
What God did there through His church is nothing short of a miracle. The story will be an encouragement to you as we enter fully into the season of giving.
by Chris Horst | Jun 15, 2009 | Blog |
Perhaps the most enduring symbol of the Soviet experiment is their architecture. During the spring of 2007, I lived in an oft-forgotten corner of Romania, working to expand
HOPE’s work into the country. As with all former Soviet republics, Romania’s cities are filled with massive apartment blocks, exemplified in this picture which was taken from the window of the apartment where I lived.
Romanian Apartment Block
They aren’t pretty. These concrete, gray monstrosities line every street, each one in a different state of disrepair. Not only do they blight these communities, but it also made navigating Romanian cities a nightmare (try finding your apartment when all the buildings are carbon-copies of one another).
The shared common space of the buildings was disastrous. The façade, lobbies, and stairwells –the commons–were always in terrible condition. The interesting thing about these buildings was that once you reached the door of the apartments, the “home” began. Inside, many of the apartments were actually quite nice, though you’d never know it from the outside.
The Communist regime built these concrete palaces but did a poor job (read: terrible) of maintaining them. Individuals buy the apartments within the building, but not the building itself. As a result, nobody maintains the lobbies, the landscaping or the exterior walls. Individual apartment owners simply fend for themselves, meaning the majority of urban Romanians live in ugly housing. The Romanian government proved time-and-again that it was a terrible landlord.
Under Communist systems, the government serves owns the real estate. The
tragedy of the commons is just one of a litany of Communism’s fatal flaws. We see glimpses of this economics reality every day in simple things like the way we drive rental cars (versus our own cars) and in the condition of dormitory bathrooms. Successful economic systems take the tragedy of the commons seriously, acknowledging that when “everyone owns it, nobody does.”
