The Annual Budget Meeting...
Ok... so I'm sitting in class after finishing my third presentation of the week.
I still have another one on Friday.
The first one was... in a word... humiliating.
Apparently, the deacon board had been discussing something really controversial before I came in with my budget presentation.
I came in and handed out copies of 4 years of budgets (from 2000-2003) since the last time they had a "real" children's pastor was in 2003. My goal was to say, "This is what it really takes to run a viable, vibrant children's ministry."
Had they let me complete my presentation, it would have gone something like this...
"I just wanted to show you this budget to show you what can be accomplished in a children's ministry with the proper budget. This is my 'wish list' for this year. I realize not all of this can be done, but as each event comes up, I can get an estimated budget and present it to the deacon board one at a time. If the funds are not there, we won't do it or we'll cut back on the cost of it.
"Basically, I have no idea what the year will cost because I have only been here five months. But in those five months, with the budget you gave me for the large project in children's ministry, I have stayed on or below budget. There was one area where I went over budget (which was a direct effect of a decision that the Pastor made about the construction without discussing it with me - but I wouldn't have said that part). So I cut back in other areas in order to compensate.
"I have been responsible with our finances thus far, and I'm simply asking you to trust me to come to you as the need for financing arises throughout the year."
So... that was supposed to be my presentation.
As it was, I get about four lines down on my "wish list" budget, when I am rather rudely interrupted...
From that point on, the night falls apart.
They go line by line saying things like, "Well, that's not going to happen." and "That's just not possible."
I never even got to say that this was just a "wish list" or whatever.
Instead, they spend what seems like an ETERNITY ripping my vision apart while I give a feeble attempt to regain the floor in order to explain what I was really asking for.
As time goes on, and my responses become more and more desperate in my attempt to regain control of the conversation and of myself - my voice become more shaky, my eyes begin to water, and my hands begin to tremble.
But I was holding my own against this barrage.
Then (God help me) one of them felt sorry for me.
He leaned across the table and took my hand and said, "Now, baby, I can tell that you're getting nervous. Calm down. Take a breath. We all love you here, and if we had the funds we would give them to you. This has nothing to do with you..."
He said a lot more, but by this point I am completely BAWLING MY EYES OUT. I mean, face in hands, snot dripping, sobbing breaths BAWLING MY EYES OUT.
This is followed by yet another barrage of comments - this time was extreme backtracking by the previous stone-faced board.
"We love you. We're so glad you're here. You're the one pastor on staff that we don't have to worry about in spending. We want you to come in here aiming for the moon because we love to see your vision."
BLAH BLAH BLAH
By this point, I am just PRAYING TO GOD that they would STOP being nice to me. Because the nicer they were, the more I SOBBED.
Lord, help me.
It was SO VERY HUMILIATING.
And all I can think through the entire episode is:
When working at The Agency, I sat across from a 300lb man who was cussing me out, talking about my mama, my clothes, my weight, my level of intelligence... the list goes on.
And I held my own. I stayed stone-faced with my plastered-on "concerned face." I said things like, "I'm sorry you feel that way." and "I am going to make sure this gets fixed." and "I completely understand why you're upset."
Of course, I fell apart after he left the building.
But the point is that I NEVER LOST MY COMPOSURE through the whole thing.
But sitting here, in a group of men and women who love the Lord and who love me, but men and women who have a job to do... I fall apart.
I mean, completely fall apart.
OH
MY
GOSH
I was SO VERY humiliated.
I cried the rest of the night, woke up the next morning and cried some more.
They did double my budget, and that's something.
But in the meantime, my vision was shot to Hell.
It wasn't even "That's a nice thought, but we just don't have the funds for it this year."
It was a clear and unwavering "HELL NO!"
So... yeah...
I still get a sinking feeling in my stomach when I think about going back to the church to face those people.
And to add insult to injury, I think the whole staff knows what happened - I have had no less than three pastors call me to make sure I'm ok... and that I'm not going to leave the church.
Yeah.
That's how bad it was.
*Sniffle*