BRENTWOOD, TN — Every Monday at 7:45 a.m., while the rest of the congregation is still digesting Sunday's sermon, I am sitting at the folding table in the counting room behind the church office, sorting nickels into a paper sleeve with the quiet efficiency of a woman who has made peace with her calling.

Seventeen years. I have been here seventeen years. The counting room has the same folding table, the same coin sorter with the jammed quarter slot we have been “looking into” since 2014, and the same handwritten sign above the door that says “AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY,” which in practice means me and Gerald Hoffstead, 71, who counts the checks and has not once in seventeen years commented on the coins.

People think the offering just… happens. That the plates go out, the plates come in, and somewhere in the middle, grace takes over. Grace does not roll coins. I roll coins.

“I once found a button, a Canadian quarter, a folded piece of paper that said ‘I.O.U. $20,’ and a Werther’s Original in the same plate. I logged what I could and moved on. That is the job.”

Margaret Ohlsen, 58, who coordinates the church stewardship campaign each fall, told me in 2022 that my work was “very behind-the-scenes in the best way.” I have thought about that sentence many times since. I am not sure she meant it as a compliment. I have decided to receive it as one.

The church installed a new digital giving platform in 2021. Online donations now represent 61% of total weekly receipts. Nobody told me until I noticed the envelopes getting lighter. Gerald said, “You didn’t hear?” I had not heard.

I am still here at 7:45. The plates still come in. There are always coins.

At press time, the quarterly financial report distributed to all members listed the offering counting team as “volunteers” with no further detail, which is accurate and has been accurate for seventeen years.