Led by the Spirit: Answering God’s Call to Give

I’m sitting here, frustrated. There’s a weight on my chest, and it’s not physical—it’s this nagging, suffocating feeling that keeps telling me I’m not doing enough. I don’t know if it’s the pressure of expectations from the world or from within the church, but I feel so conflicted about giving. It’s one of those things that should come easy, right? After all, God gave everything for us. Jesus left His throne in heaven to come and die for us so that we could have eternal life. And yet, when it comes to giving of my finances, I still feel this heavy reluctance, like I’m holding on to something I don’t want to let go of.

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But here’s the thing: I know I’m supposed to give. I know God calls me to. And I can hear the voices, the Bible verses in my head, telling me to give generously, joyfully, and sacrificially. I know God says, “For God loves a cheerful giver” (2 Corinthians 9:7). I’ve read that verse a million times. But I’m not always cheerful about it. I don’t always feel joy when I write that check or click that donation link online. And maybe that’s where the real struggle lies: it’s not about the act of giving, but the condition of my heart in those moments. Because, if I’m honest, I don’t always feel like I’m doing it for the right reasons. It’s not always worshipful. Sometimes it feels like an obligation, a box to check off my Christian to-do list. And that bothers me. A lot.

I think I’ve been going about it all wrong. Maybe it’s because I’m still so wrapped up in the idea of money, of what I have and how much I have. I’m not rolling in cash. I’m living paycheck to paycheck, and the bills don’t stop coming. There’s this deep-rooted fear inside me that if I give too much, I won’t have enough left for myself. It’s like I’m clinging to what little security I have left, as if God won’t actually provide for me the way He promises He will.

But, when I read passages like Philippians 4:19, “And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus,” I feel so convicted. I know God will provide for me. If I just trust Him. If I give freely and generously, without worrying about whether or not I’ll have enough left. After all, He has already given me everything. He gave me His son. Jesus, who became poor for my sake, who endured the cross for me. In light of that, what is my small sacrifice, really?

But I’ll admit, I feel a little angry when I think about it too. It’s like I’m doing this internal battle between my flesh and my spirit. My flesh says, “Don’t be so foolish. You’re barely making ends meet. What are you going to do when that unexpected expense hits?” And my spirit says, “But remember what Jesus did for you. Don’t you trust Him to take care of you? Don’t you believe that He will provide, just like He says He will?”

It feels like the world tells me to hold on tight to what I have, to be “smart” and “practical,” to “look out for number one.” But that’s not what the Bible says. The Bible says to give generously, to trust God with your finances, and to do it joyfully because, honestly, He doesn’t need my money. He doesn’t need anything from me. But He’s giving me the opportunity to partner with Him in this. To worship Him with my resources. It’s about the heart, not the amount.

I know this. I know this. But there’s a tension I can’t ignore. I want to obey God, but sometimes my fear wins. I find myself hesitating, and I get mad at myself for it. I know I should trust God more. I know that, if I really believed His promises, I wouldn’t have such a hard time. But it’s hard not to be afraid when you’re living paycheck to paycheck. Every dollar feels like it has to stretch further than it really does, and the idea of letting go of even a little bit of it feels like jumping off a cliff.

Jesus said in Matthew 6:24, “No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other.” Well, if I’m honest, I think I’ve been serving money more than I’ve been serving God. It’s like I say I trust God, but then when it comes time to give, I second-guess Him. I hold back. I try to control things myself.

And that makes me so angry. Why can’t I just trust Him fully? Why does this feeling of inadequacy creep in, making me think I need to hold on to what I have for security? Why is it so hard to let go? I wish I could just give without thinking, without calculating every single bill and worrying about whether I’ll have enough.

The thing is, I know God will take care of me. I know He’s faithful. In the moments when I choose to trust Him, I see His faithfulness in my life. He’s always provided for me. He’s always made a way. So why am I still struggling with this? Why is it so hard to trust that God will use my small offering to do something big?

Maybe it’s because I’m too focused on what I can see. I’m looking at my bank account, my circumstances, and not seeing the bigger picture. In 2 Corinthians 8:9, Paul writes, “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich.” I think about that verse and how Jesus literally gave up everything for me. He became poor so that I could become rich in Him. And He’s asking me to do the same. To give of myself, to give of my resources, because I know He’s got me. It’s not about how much I give—it’s about the attitude of my heart. Am I giving out of love for Him, or out of obligation? Am I giving out of faith, or out of fear?

God, I need help with this. I’m sorry for my lack of trust. I’m sorry for holding on so tightly to the things You’ve blessed me with. Help me to be more generous, to give joyfully, to give because I love You and want to see Your kingdom advanced. I pray for a heart of generosity, not just with my finances, but with my time, my energy, my love. Help me to trust You more fully, to stop looking at the world’s version of security, and instead look to You as my Provider. You are my Shepherd, and I lack nothing.

Father, thank You for providing for me. Thank You for sending Your Son, Jesus, to take away my sin and to give me life abundantly. Help me to have a heart like Yours, full of love, full of generosity. I pray that You would help me see opportunities to give, and that You would give me joy in the process. Help me to trust that as I give, You will always provide for my needs. Thank You for the grace You’ve shown me. Let me show that grace to others.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

It’s hard. But I’m going to keep trying. Because if He can give everything for me, I can give what I have—no matter how little it may seem. I want my heart to be right. I want my giving to be worship. And I want to trust that God will provide—because He always does.

Passing the Torch of Grace

This week feels heavier than usual—not in a bad way, but in a way that makes me pause, reflect, and search my heart deeper than I have in a while. I just finished a devotional on leaving a legacy, and it hit something in me. Something sacred. The kind of stirring that can only come from You.

I’m only 25, but lately, I’ve been asking myself: When I leave this earth, what will I be remembered for?
Not the clothes I wore, the selfies I posted, or even the goals I crushed. But the eternal things—the ones that carry weight in Your Kingdom. I don’t want my life to echo with the applause of people, I want it to echo with the sound of surrendered worship, poured-out love, and seeds of faith that sprout long after I’m gone.

Scripture that pierced my heart this week:
“Store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.” – Matthew 6:20 (NIV)

Lord, what am I storing up? I don’t want to be so focused on building a life that the world claps for that I forget the life You’ve called me to build—a legacy rooted in You. The world glorifies glitter, hustle, and self-glory. But You… You glorified sacrifice, humility, and serving.

You said in Acts 20:35,
“It is more blessed to give than to receive.”
And I believe that, with every part of my soul.

When people remember me, I want them to say, “She lived for Jesus, even when it wasn’t easy. She loved when it hurt. She forgave when it wasn’t fair. She gave when she had little. She served without needing applause. And she burned with a hunger for God’s Word that could light up others.”

That’s the legacy I want. One that sets others ablaze for You, Jesus.


Thoughts I’m wrestling with tonight:

  • What kind of seeds am I sowing right now that will outlive me?
  • Who am I discipling, encouraging, praying for?
  • What part of my story is helping someone else find You?

I feel this urgency—not fear—but a holy burden, to make sure I’m not wasting my time on temporary things. I want to influence others for Your cause, not mine. Not my brand, not my name, not my achievements. Just You, Jesus.

Lord, help me to shift my thinking. If I understand the inheritance I have in eternity, then I won’t cling so tightly to my possessions or status here on earth. You’re teaching me that generosity doesn’t begin with money—it begins with surrender. With a heart that says, “Use me. Spend me. Pour me out.”


My Prayer Tonight:

God,
I don’t want to live a small, self-centered life. Break any chains of selfishness in me. Deliver me from the fear of being forgotten by this world, and instead give me the passion to be remembered in Heaven.
I surrender my time, my talents, my treasures. Teach me to steward them well, not for my comfort, but for Your Kingdom.
Let my life be an arrow that points straight to You.
May my legacy be one of faith, courage, love, truth, and obedience.
In Jesus’ Name,
Amen.


Here’s a list I started today: Ways I can influence others for Christ:

  1. Start a Bible study with young women in my community. We’re all hungry for connection and truth, and I know I don’t have to be perfect to lead—I just have to be willing.
  2. Write letters of encouragement to people going through hard times—friends, coworkers, even strangers. Words can water souls.
  3. Be intentional with social media—use it to share Scripture, testimony, and hope, not just aesthetics.
  4. Volunteer at church regularly, especially in areas where there’s a need, not just where I’m comfortable.
  5. Give generously, even when my budget feels tight. If I believe God is my provider, I’ll give like it.
  6. Mentor a younger believer—maybe someone just starting their walk with Jesus.
  7. Serve my family with more joy and patience. Ministry starts at home.
  8. Be bold in evangelism, even if it’s just a conversation at a coffee shop or with my Uber driver.
  9. Support missionaries through prayer and giving. They’re doing frontline Kingdom work.
  10. Live transparently, so people see both my struggles and my surrender, and find freedom in knowing they’re not alone.

Spiritual Growth Plan – How I want to grow and increase my hunger for God’s Word:

Wake up earlier (even 20 minutes) to spend uninterrupted time in the Bible.
Memorize one verse a week—carry it in my heart like armor.
Read through the New Testament in the next 90 days.
Fast one day a week from something that distracts me—social media, coffee, or comfort food—and replace it with deeper prayer.
Keep a Scripture journal to track the verses that speak to me and how I’m applying them.
Ask God for fresh revelation every time I open His Word.
Worship more—not just at church, but while I clean, drive, cook, or cry.
Surround myself with God-hungry people who sharpen me spiritually.
Read one Christian book a month that challenges my walk.
Stay accountable with a friend for spiritual check-ins.


Some days I feel like I’m doing okay. Other days, I feel like I’m barely scratching the surface of what You’ve called me to, God. But I believe You honor the desire to grow. I believe that every step toward You matters.

Psalm 112:6 says,
“Surely the righteous will never be shaken; they will be remembered forever.”
That’s the kind of remembrance I want. Not fame. Not praise. But eternal impact.

I think of the woman who anointed Your feet with her expensive perfume, and how You said in Matthew 26:13,
“Truly I tell you, wherever this gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.”

She didn’t build a platform. She poured her heart out. And You said her story would echo for eternity.
That’s the kind of legacy I want.


So tonight, Lord, I choose legacy over luxury.
I choose faithfulness over fame.
I choose obedience over opportunity.
I choose Christ over comfort.
Let my life not just be lived—but spent, sown, sacrificed, and surrendered for something bigger than me.
Let my love for You not die with me, but live on in every life I’ve touched.

Jesus, if there’s breath in my lungs, there’s purpose in my days.
Don’t let me waste them.
Write Your story through my life.