How to Find Faith with Money
When all hope seems lost
“Not enough balance in your account…”
When I read the email that there is no money in my company bank account to cover payroll, I'm supposed to be on vacation while attending knife school.
I'm supposed to be recharging while my team runs my company.
I am supposed to come back to why I started this company in the first place: financial freedom.
I'm not supposed to get any emails at 3 PM on Friday afternoon.
That thunk you just heard is my heart dropping out of my body and splatting on the floor.
Fuck.
I'm not supposed to have to figure out payroll, since we are out of money, and people need to get paid.
Today.
When I get the email, I am furious with my company.
We had a plan, and the money had been there when I left on vacation.
Undoubtedly, unexpected expenses needed to be paid, and my money person did so.
If you have never been responsible for making sure your employees get paid on time from the cash (not) flowing into your company, you may not understand the stomach-clenching pressure I feel.
Like, I want to puke.
Suppose you have always worked for someone else, and your paycheck was magically deposited into your bank account each week.
In that case, you will have no idea the anguish and enormous sacrifice a small business owner may have made to ensure you are paid.
You should be paid, don't get me wrong.
Sometimes, getting paid means someone else is bleeding out and not getting paid themselves.
I drive the hour home from school to deal with the issue.
Inside, I'm panicking.
There is no other magic pool of money that I can fill this gap from today.
In other crises, I've been able to put it on my credit card, but I'm over $100,000 in credit card debt, and the cards are all maxed out.
This is when I will have to tell people they will need to wait for their paycheck until more cash flows in.
We've weathered the pandemic and civil unrest without any delays in paying people.
It's a point of pride: my employees get paid no matter what.
I dread sending that email.
I've come close before but always managed to somehow find the money.
Not this time.
In the car, it's hot.
I open the windows and turn onto the highway.
I'm crying.
Frustrated, terrified, angry tears.
"If you want this to happen, you've GOT to give me the money for it to happen!" I scream to my ancestors, to the Gods, to whatever spirits might be listening.
I CANNOT do this without financial support.
I am OUT OF MONEY!
FUCKING HELP ME!!!!!
I arrive home and park across from my house.
Drag my snotty self toward my house, stop at the mailbox by the sidewalk.
And there it is.
That magick golden brown envelope, with the window cut out.
The subtle rainbow ombre of an IRS check peaking through.
During the pandemic, the IRS was backlogged.
Two years later, it looks as if I've finally received my refund.
I tear open the envelope.
I can't even remember how much I'm supposed to get.
Over 5K.
It's enough to make payroll for this week.
My devastation turns to celebration.
Holy Motherfucking Hallelujah.
Everything is not what it seems when it comes to money.
Money is complex.
It is tangible and energetic at the same time.
It's both practical and magical.
If you engage with money on a purely practical level, you're missing a more profound relationship with resource and flow.
If you engage purely on an emotional level, you're missing out on the fun of its material qualities and the pleasure it can offer.
Most people have many narratives and feelings about money that get in their way.
From the airy-fairy 'let's manifest everything' to the 'it's just numbers' crowds, and everyone in between, I see you.
Money is a system of connection, meaning, and value.
How you think, feel, and talk about money influences your relationship with it.
Any spiritual skill you want to develop can be practiced with money, especially faith.
Trusting money is trusting yourself to receive what you need, exactly when you need it.
I’ve been writing a book called Radical Wealth: An Anti-capitalist Guide to Queer and Trans Prosperity.
(Lemme know if you have an agent or publisher friend who might be interested.)
This week’s choice practice comes from that body of work.
Write out a caring, gentle answer to this prompt:
This is the power I decide to give money in my life:
And post your answer in the comments so we can all share collective wisdom.
Ah, money. Never a simple topic! We're all on our own journeys with it. For me, having embraced in the last couple years the necessity of getting real about money, paying off some debt and building a solid foundation, at this point it's about continuing that work but also about welcoming the magic and faith you describe so well here. Letting money be *in service* to creative visions and dreams, and not letting money become the dream. // A story: a few years a ago I was feeling called to go on a pilgrimage I couldn't really afford. I needed it, bad. And it was just the right medicine. I had worked hard to fund the trip, but hadn't adequately planned for the missed work while I was away and the crunch time that came on the tail end. (That's what I mean when I say I couldn't really afford it.) Well, providence blew off a piece of the chimney right when we got home, and the insurance check got us through...
This is the power I decide to give money in my life: I give money the power to be a collaborator, ally and savvy friend.