We live in a culture obsessed with the "self-made" narrative. We celebrate the disruptors, the solo founders, and the spotlight-grabbers. Our social feeds are meticulously curated galleries of personal achievement. But if you look closely at the architecture of any great movement, historical or modern, you will find that it rarely rests solely on the shoulders of its most vocal leaders. It is built on the quiet, fierce generosity of people who are content to be scaffolds rath

We live in a culture that treats generosity as a luxury of the comfortable. We tell ourselves, “Once I pay off my debts, once my savings account hits a specific milestone, or once the economy stabilizes—then I will become a generous person.” We treat giving as a calculus of surplus, a safe percentage subtracted from an already overflowing cup. But if you look closely at the stories that shape human history, you will find that the most radical, gravity-defying acts of selfless

We live in a culture that is utterly obsessed with the finish line. We celebrate the person who cuts the ribbon, the leader who signs the historic bill, and the influencer who posts the final, polished product of a long and grueling endeavor. In our personal and professional lives, we are conditioned to tie our resources, time, and energy strictly to projects that we can oversee, control, and receive credit for completing. But if you look at the kingdom of God, the economy of

We live in an age of hyper-individualism, where personal happiness, career trajectory, and self-preservation are treated as paramount virtues. We are constantly conditioned to ask, "Is this relationship serving me?" or "What am I getting out of this investment?" When circumstances get difficult, walking away to build a more comfortable, unburdened life is not only socially acceptable—it is often celebrated as smart strategy. But if you peel back the layers of human history,

In the modern world, fundraising is an absolute science. Non-profits, religious institutions, and community projects utilize data analytics, multi-tiered donor campaigns, premium giveaways, and high-pressure appeals just to hit their baseline financial goals. We are so accustomed to the constant, wearying pull of financial solicitation that we’ve come to view giving as a chore—a transaction driven by guilt, duty, or tax incentives. But buried deep in the ancient history of th

We live in an era obsessed with security and ownership. From intellectual property to private equity, our modern world tells us that what we earn is ours to keep, defend, and compound. We quantify our success by what we accumulate, building higher fences and thicker financial cushions to protect ourselves against an uncertain future. But if we trace the concept of generosity back to its ancient roots, we find a completely different rhythm of life—one defined not by accumulati

We no longer carry gold, acacia wood, or animal skins to a physical tent. Today, under the New Covenant, you are the temple of the Holy Spirit (1 Corinthians 6:19). The global Body of Christ is God’s dwelling place. As New Testament Christians, we are completely freed from the rigid legalism of a forced percentage, but the standard of the heart has been elevated even higher. If we pan through the New Testament for gold, we find three timeless principles of kingdom giving: 1.

When God requested a dwelling place among His people in the wilderness, He didn't issue a mandatory imperial tax. Instead, He said to Moses: "From everyone who gives it willingly with his heart you shall take My offering" (Exodus 25:2). What happened next is one of the most stunning displays of raw, uncoerced generosity in human history. A group of newly freed slaves, wandering in a barren desert, brought their gold, silver, fine linens, and precious stones. They gave so much

If the tithe was the baseline of mandatory giving in Israel, the sacrificial system was where giving became deeply personal, costly, and descriptive. Long before Jesus walked the earth, every single drop of oil poured out and every animal brought to the altar was a physical shadow pointing toward a spiritual reality. Anchored in Genesis Sacrifice was built into the fabric of humanity's relationship with God right from the beginning. We see altars built by Noah after the flood

We tend to look at giving through a very modern, financial lens. We check our bank accounts, calculate a percentage, and write a check or click a button on a church app. But if we pull back the curtain on Scripture, we quickly discover a profound truth: Giving is not a financial transaction; it is a spiritual diagnostic tool. God does not need our resources. He is the Creator of the universe. What He desires is our hearts. The ultimate paradigm shift happens when we stop vi

Giving isn't just a church ritual; it is a spiritual discipline that aligns our hearts with the Creator. To truly understand this practice, let’s explore five fundamental questions about giving, backed by Scripture: 1. Why Do We Give? - To reflect God’s character and show our gratitude. We give because God is the ultimate giver. Every good thing we have comes from Him, and giving back is an act of worship and trust. It acknowledges that He is our provider and keeps our

Our theme this year is “ Growing in Christ ,” and growth requires more than good intentions—it requires connection. If time in the Word is how God speaks to us, then prayer is how we speak to God . And just like any relationship, if communication is missing, the relationship grows cold.that’s why prayer isn’t optional for a disciple. It’s a discipline we develop to grow our relationship with the Father. In Luke 18:1, Jesus taught that we “ought always to pray and not lose hea

Our theme this year is “Growing in Christ,” and growth is never accidental. Anything that grows—whether it’s a garden, a marriage, or a faith—grows because it is nurtured consistently over time. That’s why, for the month of March, I want to focus our bulletin articles on a simple but powerful theme: Spiritual Disciplines. These are the steady habits God uses to grow His people—things like being in the Word, prayer, worship, and service. They may not always feel “exciting,” bu

It’s easy to say we love people. It’s easy to feel love when things are going well. But biblical love is more than words and more than intention— love shows up. It steps into the mess. It takes time. It sacrifices comfort. It moves toward people instead of away from them. 1 John 3:16–18 says, “By this we know love, because He laid down His life for us… My little children, let us not love in word or in tongue, but in deed and in truth.” That’s about as clear as it gets. Jes

One of the biggest misunderstandings in our world today is the idea that love and truth are enemies. Some people act like if you love someone, you’ll never challenge them. Others act like if you speak truth, you can’t be loving. But Scripture refuses to separate the two. Biblical love speaks truth—and biblical truth is spoken in love. Ephesians 4:15 tells us to be “speaking the truth in love.” That verse is simple, but it’s challenging. It means truth matters. It means love m

When most people think about love, they think about their feelings. The love Jesus calls us to is deeper than a feeling. Biblical love is a decision. It’s a choice we make because we belong to Christ. Jesus said in John 13:34–35 , “ A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another; as I have loved you… By this all will know that you are Mydisciples, if you have love for one another .” Notice that Jesus didn’t describe love as an idea or a mood, He gave it as a comma

Last Tuesday, I woke up to the news that a high school classmate of mine had passed away. This makes two that I have lost in the last five years or so. It made me think. Travis came from a loving family. Both his parents and brothers are faithful members of the Lord’s church. He grew up with me at Mobile Christian, and we were both in the youth group together. We played football together. On paper, he had everything one would think to live a full, faithful and productive life

Recently, I listened to one of my dad’s sermons entitled “Courage to Answer the Call.“ In it he said something that has stayed with me: “Do not look to your courage to find your identity in Christ. Look to your identity in Christ, to find your courage.” That sentence speaks to a struggle many of us face. We often think, “If I can just feel brave enough, then I’ll do what I know I need to do.” We wait for courage before we obey. We wait until we feel confident to serve. We wa

What a wonderful and powerful weekend EYC was. There’s something special about being surrounded by thousands of believers, singing together, hearing God’s Word preached, and watching hearts respond. Events like that can give us a real spiritual high—our faith feels strong, our focus feels clear, and we come home fired up to live differently. But if we’re honest, that fire can start to fade once we get back into normal life. School starts back. Work piles up. The routine retur

This time of year, we hear the phrase “peace on earth” everywhere. It’s printed on signs, sung in songs, and spoken in greetings. But if we’re honest, the world doesn’t feel very peaceful. Many families are stressed, schedules are packed, and hearts are heavy. So what does “peace on earth” really mean? The Bible reminds us that true peace isn’t found in perfect circumstances—it’s found in a perfect Savior. When the angels announced Jesus’ coming, they proclaimed peace because