Most of us didn’t decide what we believe about money. We picked it up.
Maybe you grew up in a home where there was never quite enough, and somewhere along the way you made a quiet promise: I’m not going to live like this. Maybe you grew up with plenty, and you either wanted more of it or pushed hard in the other direction. Maybe you watched money cause fights at the kitchen table. Maybe you learned, without anyone ever saying it out loud, that how much you have says something about how much you’re worth.
Those stories get attached to our hearts early, and they don’t let go easily. They follow us into adulthood. They sit in the back of our minds like an operating system, shaping how we spend, how we save, how we give, and what we argue about. In our house, we’ll sometimes have a disagreement about something as small as trash bags, and it has nothing to do with trash bags. It’s about a story underneath.
Control and Security
I’ve noticed that, no matter where someone sits financially, two insecurities tend to show up underneath those stories.
The first is control. I want to feel like I can make this part of my life do what I want it to do.
The second is security. I want to know I’ll be okay, that I’ll have enough, that the people I love will be taken care of.
Here’s the tricky part: money gives us more options, but it never gives us ultimate control, and it never quite delivers enough security. Most of us have a number in our account that makes us feel comfortable. And when we get there, the number tends to move. Talk to people who have done extraordinary things financially, and many of them will tell you the same thing. There isn’t really a finish line called “enough.”
That’s not a reason to feel guilty about ambition. Building something, providing for your family, creating businesses where other people can thrive, those can be beautiful things. But if control and security are what’s driving us, no amount will ever fully satisfy that need.
What the Tithe Was Really About
If you grew up around church, you’ve probably heard the word tithe. Sometimes it was taught in a healthy way. Sometimes it was taught with guilt or pressure, and usually by someone with a microphone and a Bible. I’ll own that I haven’t always taught it as clearly as I should have, either.
In the Old Testament, God’s people believed that everything they had came from Him. So they gave the first tenth back, before anything else. Malachi records God saying something surprising about it.
“Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this,” says the Lord Almighty.
Malachi 3:10
“Test me in this.” I love that, because it assumes some of us are going to be skeptical. I would have been first in line. When I laid out ten one-dollar bills to teach our kids about giving, saving and spending, one of them thought it was great. The other one asked, “Why don’t I get ten?” Honestly, that question lives in every one of us.
But the tithe was never meant to be legalism or shame. It was a gift, for the person giving and for the community receiving it. It was a reminder that it was never all ours to begin with, and an invitation to watch God multiply what we release.
The Widow Who Gave Everything
When Jesus teaches about giving, He doesn’t make the principle easier. He takes it deeper. In Mark 12, He sits across from the temple treasury and watches people put in their offerings. Many rich people put in large amounts. Then a poor widow drops in two small copper coins.
“Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything, all she had to live on.”
Mark 12:43-44
We tend to treat this as a sweet moment. It isn’t. If an elderly woman you loved emptied her account into an offering plate, most of us would quietly go get it back for her. Jesus isn’t telling everyone to sell everything they own. He’s pointing His disciples to someone who knew exactly who her provider was.
Giving in faith isn’t really about the amount. I’m not even sure it’s mainly about the percentage. It’s about what happens in your heart. It’s an act of resistance against the stories that tell us we have to hold on tighter, and it answers two questions:
Who takes care of me? And whose hands am I in?
When you’ve settled those questions, something shifts. Money stops acting like a god in your life and starts being what it was meant to be: a resource. You stop asking, “How do I protect what’s mine?” and start asking, “God, what do You want me to do with what You’ve handed me?”
Generosity also has a way of surprising us. Think about the last time you gave sacrificially. How often do you think about that money now? Most of us can’t remember regretting it. You just don’t end up missing what you generously give.
So here’s an honest question worth sitting with: what would God have to do for you to fully trust Him with your security and your future? He has already shown up in the most extraordinary way possible. What else are we waiting for?
Releasing the Seed
The early church became known for something surprising. In a world that told all kinds of lies about them, Christians kept showing up with radical generosity. They cared for orphans, the poor and even their enemies. They didn’t spread because they talked about generosity well. They spread because they practiced it.
Paul writes about that kind of generosity to the church in Corinth.
“Remember this: Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows generously will also reap generously. Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.”
2 Corinthians 9:6-7
This isn’t a formula where giving more guarantees you a bigger paycheck or a nicer car. That’s not what Paul means. But it also isn’t permission to give only what feels comfortable. Paul goes on to say that God is able to bless you abundantly, “so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work” (2 Corinthians 9:8). The blessing has a purpose. It’s so you can do more good than you could imagine.
Does God provide for people who trust Him? I believe He does. But it isn’t always the way we expect. Sometimes the season actually gets harder before it gets better. Sometimes He provides through a door we never would have looked for. And very often, what He’s doing in that season is forming our hearts in ways comfort never could.
You will never experience the potential of a seed you’re unwilling to release. A seed that stays in your hand doesn’t grow.
Temporary Stewards
Here’s what all of this comes down to. Every one of us is a temporary steward. One day, every dollar and every digital number connected to your name will belong to someone else. What you actually own isn’t the resource. It’s your response to the resource God has given you.
The question at the end of our lives won’t be what the number looked like. It will be what we did with what God entrusted to us. That’s why I believe God’s plan for every follower of Jesus is to have a plan for generosity. We’re intentional about almost every other part of our lives. This deserves the same intention.
Putting This Into Practice
1Name the story you carry.
Take a few minutes and write down what you learned about money growing up, from what you saw, heard or felt. Then ask yourself whether that story is driving you toward control or toward security, and where it still shows up today.
2Answer the two questions honestly.
Who takes care of you? Whose hands are you in? If your honest answer is “me,” tell God that. He’d rather hear the real version than a polished one.
3Make a generosity plan and take one step of faith.
Decide what you’ll give from what you have now, whether that’s starting to give, moving toward a percentage, or stretching in a way that requires trust. Then release that seed this week instead of waiting until it feels comfortable.
