Not long ago, someone called me and asked for advice on raising money. He had an appeal ready, and he wanted to know what I thought. The message, in essence, was this: We spent more money than we brought in. Now we need to raise the difference.
I understood the pressure behind that sentence. I have led organizations. I know what it feels like to look at a budget and wonder how you are going to keep a promise you made to your community. But I told him his appeal was too direct and too bland. It was asking people to solve an accounting problem before giving them a reason to care about the work.
I probably said it more bluntly on the phone: no one cares about your deficit by itself. That does not mean people never respond to an emergency. Of course they do. It means an empty financial gap is a weak place to begin a conversation about generosity. People need to know what is at stake on the other side of that number.
Start with why the work exists
I pointed him to Simon Sinek’s talk, “How Great Leaders Inspire Action.” Sinek describes a simple progression: why, how, and what. Most of us can explain what our organization does. We can usually explain how we do it. The harder question is why any of it matters to the people we serve and to the people we are inviting to join us.
For a pastor or nonprofit leader, the answer cannot be, “Because we spent too much.” That is a financial fact. Your why is the reason the doors opened in the first place. Why do children need the program? Why does a neighbor need a safe place to come? Why does the recovery work, the food pantry, or the mentoring relationship matter in this community right now?
Starting with why does not mean hiding the budget. It means letting people understand the mission before you ask them to carry its cost.
Show me the people, then show me the numbers
Here is what I wanted him to spend serious time asking: Who was helped this year? How many people did we actually serve? What changed for them? What did our staff and volunteers learn? What happens if this work stops, and what becomes possible if it continues?
Those questions should lead to real evidence. If you helped children, use the number you can verify. If families came back week after week, say so. If one person is willing to let you share part of their experience, tell it with their permission and with dignity. Do not manufacture a dramatic story because you think donors need one. The truth, told clearly, is strong enough.
Annette Simmons makes a useful case for the power of a real, well-told story in Whoever Tells the Best Story Wins. I take that as a challenge to notice the stories already happening around us, not as permission to turn people into props. A spreadsheet can show the scale of a need. A story helps someone understand why that need has a name and a face.
What I would change in the appeal
Here is the difference in plain language. The first version says, “We spent more than we raised this year. Please help us close the gap.” It may be honest, but the reader is left to guess what their gift would protect.
A stronger version could say something like this: “This year, [verified number] children found a consistent place to learn and belong through our program. Here is one [consented, accurate story] that shows what that meant. We want to keep that place open next year. A gift of [specific amount] helps provide [specific, accurately costed service]. Our expenses exceeded revenue by [verified amount], and here is what we are changing so the work can continue responsibly.”
That is an illustration, not a script to copy word for word. Fill in only what you can stand behind. It connects the invitation to the people and the purpose, while still telling the truth about the finances.
Let stewardship and story sit at the same table
Churches and nonprofits sometimes act as though they must choose between a compelling story and an honest budget. I do not think we get to choose. If spending outran income, say what happened. Tell donors what you are changing. Show what it will cost to keep the mission healthy. People deserve both a reason to give and a reason to trust you.
When I work on an appeal, I ask leaders to find the stories first, then reveal the gap, then make a clear invitation. I walk through that process in my STORY Framework for fundraising. It is a way to move from last year’s real impact to this year’s next step without pretending the hard numbers are not there.
So before you send the next fundraising letter, put it down for a moment and ask yourself: If the first sentence were not about our budget, what would it say about the people we are here to serve? Start there. Then invite others into that work with an honest, specific ask.