Two Eggs and a Cup Of Flour Short: OH NO!
Tish was tired of anxiety dictating her life. The church finance committee chair flew into deep distress every fall when the stewardship campaign was over.

​Year after year, panicked thoughts choked her mind.

What if receipts were not enough to pay the minister?
What if utilities soared again?
What if loose offering tanks? 
What if unexpected expenses crush reserves?
What if!

It’s fall again.

So, this year, before she started the anxious tally of stewardship results, Tish decided to give meditation a try.

She downloaded a guided meditation app, lit some calming lavender candles, settled on her mat at home and hoped for an ample serving of peace before she began.

A soothing voice from the app guided, “Close your eyes. Breathe deeply. Imagine you’re on a serene beach. The waves are washing ashore; the sun is warming your skin.”

Tish’s anxiety piped up, “What if I get sunburned? Or what if a crab pinches me?”

Trying to push those thoughts aside, Tish continued her deep breaths.

The voice continued, “Now, you’re floating on a gentle river. The current is carrying you, and you’re completely relaxed.”

Her anxiety interrupted again, “What if there are piranhas? Or I get caught in a whirlpool?”

Tish sighed, “Really?!” She blew out the candle and rolled up her mat. “Let the budget bedlam begin,” she lamented.

What a story! Except it’s not fantasy. Tish is a real person. A really nice person. Maybe the lavender candle and the soothing voice are make-believe.

Maybe they’re not. Tish won’t say. But the anxiety is authentic and undeniable.

When Our Season of Faith ends in a few weeks, her bedlam will begin. For the past few years, the church has presented her with its financial recipe for the upcoming year without providing nearly enough ingredients. When commitments from the congregation were counted, resources were always two eggs and a cup of flour short. It is tough for Tish to build a budget when she must divvy up ingredients with a teaspoon rather than a full cup.

Roots of the dilemma are many. Primary among them is the trepidation that the word pledge conjures. For some of us, it drips with penalties and collections and intimidations. A business deal.
OSOF doesn’t use the word pledge anymore. Committing and sharing and promising are less frightening alternatives. And our commitments and shares and promises this year don’t require a signature. Just a printed name. That seems more comfortable, too.

A pledge by whatever name you call it is simply an estimate of ingredients … how many eggs, how much flour you think you might be able to spare. If you come up an egg short at the end of the year, no worries. It happens sometimes. However, if you have more flour to share than you thought, all the better. That happens sometimes, too.
Another fundamental part of the dilemma is urgency. Or lack of it. Tish’s most nerve-wracking, exasperating budget ordeal is trying to track down folks who always give but are not always prompt about making their commitments, shares or promises. Each year, she spends a month searching for missing ingredients before she can begin building a budget line by line. It’s sadly predictable.

In the final accounting, mystery remains. An egg here. Some flour there. And Tish must simply make a responsible estimate about undisclosed ingredients for the year to come. In recent years, even with the estimate, the budget ends up underfunded. And there’s no more guessing to do. The good budget chef she is, Tish borrows ingredients from church reserves to bring the budget into balance. For 2025, that loan was $45,000.

Our Season of Faith is not a campaign; it is an experience. A spiritual experience. For 14 years, it’s helped us measure the ingredients of our faith. On October 12, when OSOF comes to its conclusion, from your abundance, commit, share or promise the ingredients we’ll need for a life of creation at First Christian Church next year.

Be reassured. 
Be generous without fear.
 And be prompt.

Then maybe, after all this time, Tish can leave her anxiety behind. The sun won’t burn. The crabs won’t pinch. And she’ll never again have to say, “Two eggs and a cup of flour short! Oh no!