#99 Wise Retirement Giving: Generosity in Later Life

#93 Avoiding Overcommitment: Saying Yes to God First

#91 Debt Forgiveness: Grace for Those Who Owe You

#88 Avoiding Legal Trouble: Wisdom in Disputes

#78 Retirement God’s Way: Purpose Beyond the Paycheck

Part I: The Theology of Rest and Labor

The Sabbath and the Soul: The Myth of the Permanent Vacation

We have been sold a bill of goods that equates the end of a career with the end of a calling. Our culture treats retirement like a “permanent vacation,” a perpetual Saturday where the only responsibility is to find the next comfortable chair. But this is a lie that kills the spirit. In Genesis 2, we see that God rested on the seventh day, but He didn’t quit. His rest was the satisfaction of a job well done, a pause to enjoy the beauty of His creation, not a retirement from His sovereignty.

When we try to turn our retirement into a never-ending holiday, we find that the soul begins to rot. Does the Bible ever suggest that a person reaches an age where they no longer have a purpose? The answer is a resounding no. Rest, in the biblical sense, is meant to recharge us for worship and service, not to insulate us from reality. If you treat your final decades as a long exit from the work of the Kingdom, you are denying the very rhythm God built into the universe. A life without the friction of purpose is a life of stagnation, not peace. We were made to live and move in the cycle from the rest of the Sabbath back into the labor of the garden. Even in our twilight, the garden still needs tilling, even if the tools have changed.

The Thorns in the Garden: The Frustration of the Failing Body

There is no sense in lying about it: aging is a brutal reminder of the Fall. We feel the “thorns and thistles” of Genesis 3 in our joints, our memory, and our lungs. It is a losing battle. Your mind comes up with a plan at 7:00 AM, but your body doesn’t get the memo until noon. This is the visceral grind of the human condition. We are living in the tension of being eternal souls trapped in decaying tents.

Why does God allow the body to fail while the spirit often remains eager for more? This frustration is a severe mercy. It is designed to strip away our self-reliance and force us to look toward a better country. And toward the One who has the power to take us there. The decay of the body is the ultimate strike against our pride. It reminds us that we were never the “owners” of our strength. We were merely managers of a borrowed vitality. When the pavement feels rougher and the walk feels longer, it is a call to lean more heavily on the Word. And to walk more in step with the Spirit. We are reminded that our worth was never in our physical output, but in the image of God we carry. The failing body doesn’t mean the work is over. It means the work is becoming more spiritual, more focused, and more dependent on the grace of the Master.

The Eternal Worker: Bearing the Image to the Last Breath

We serve the God who is always working. Jesus said in John 5:17, “My Father is always at his work to this very day, and I too am working.” Because we bear His image, we are designed for purpose until our last breath. The idea that we can simply “turn off” our desire to be useful is a theological impossibility. We are hard-wired for contribution. What does the Bible actually say about retirement? While the Levites in the Old Testament transitioned out of heavy physical labor at age fifty (Numbers 8:25-26), they didn’t go home to nap. They moved into roles of mentorship, teaching, and assisting the younger generation.

They were reassigned, not retired. Your “work” in this season might not involve a commute or a spreadsheet, but it involves the high calling of intercession, the determination of mentoring those coming behind you, and the wisdom of being a steady presence in a chaotic world. You are an ambassador on a long-term assignment. The Master doesn’t retire His stewards. He refines them. He takes the skills you spent forty years honing in the marketplace and repurposes them for the harvest of the soul. If you are still breathing, the Owner still has work for you on the estate. The briefcase may be empty, but the calling is as full as it has ever been.

Parte II: The Idols of the Golden Years

The Mirage of “Enough”: The Anxiety of the Vault

We are a people haunted by a number that refuses to stand still. We spent forty years chasing a specific weight of gold, convinced that once we hit that mark, the heart would finally stop its frantic drumming. We thought the vault would buy us sleep. But in reality, the retirement fund never feels big enough to silence the anxiety. Why does financial fear often increase after we stop earning, even when the bank account is full? It happens because we have shifted our hope from the Provider to the provision. Although sufficient savings sometimes cause a feeling polar to anxiety, it has the same root. Remember the Rich Fool in Luke 12, who looked at his overflowing barns and told his soul to take it easy? He thought he had “enough,” but he forgot that he didn’t own the next fifteen minutes of his life. In both cases, people trust money to give security.

Anxiety in retirement is a theological alarm bell. It is the visceral cry of a heart that realized its fortress is made of paper. Inflation, market crashes, and the rising cost of maintaining a failing body are the “thorns” that pierce through our digital ledgers. If your peace depends on a spreadsheet, you will be a slave to every headline on the news. Stewardship means realizing that the money in your 401k is simply the Master’s grain stored in the Master’s barn. You are a manager, not a god. You cannot buy a single extra heartbeat with your savings. When we stop trying to be the owner of our future, the “mirage of enough” vanishes, and we can finally rest in the providence of the One who feeds the sparrows.

The Idol of Leisure: The Empty Promise of the “Good Life”

Leisure is a terrible god. It promises heaven on earth but delivers only a hollow chest. We have been trained to view the “golden years” as a permanent Saturday – a liturgy of golf, travel, and climate-controlled comfort. We call it the “good life,” but when it becomes the primary goal of our existence, it becomes an idol. How do I know if I have turned my retirement into an idol of leisure? You can tell by the boredom. You can tell by the way you get angry when your travel plans are disrupted or when the local church asks for your time. If your life is entirely focused on your own comfort, you have ceased to be a steward and have started acting like a squatter on the Master’s estate.

A life dedicated to self-amusement eventually rots. The soul was designed for the friction of purpose, for the “work” of the Kingdom. When we make leisure our god, we find that the golf course eventually feels like a desert and the cruise ship feels like a prison. We are bored because we were made for more than consumption. 1 Timothy 6:17 tells us that God gives us things for our enjoyment, but the moment that enjoyment becomes the master, the steward becomes a slave. True joy in retirement isn’t found in the absence of work, but in the reassignment to work that still actually matters – work that doesn’t terminate on our own ego.

The Fear of Being Irrelevant: The Chasm of the Empty Chair

There is a very specific, visceral kind of pain that begins to settle in when the phone finally stops ringing. For decades, your life was defined by the noise of being necessary. You were the one with the answers, the one who navigated the crises, and the one whose signature carried weight. You had the title on the door, the corner office, and the quiet influence that comes with a long career. But then comes that first Monday morning after the gold watch has been put in the drawer, and the silence of the house becomes deafening. You realize, with a staggering jolt, that the world is moving on without you. The meetings are still happening, the decisions are still being made, and the industry is still churning – but you are no longer in the room.

This is the chasm of irrelevance. It is the terrifying sensation of being “put out to pasture,” and if we are honest, the fear we feel in that moment reveals exactly how much we have worshipped the idol of our own importance. We feel like ghosts in our own industries or even within the walls of our own families, because we have spent a lifetime tying our fundamental worth to the utility of being needed. We convinced ourselves that our value was found in our “load-bearing” capacity – that as long as people relied on us, we were safe. But when the load is transferred to younger shoulders, we are left standing in the shadows, wondering who we are when there is no one left to manage.

How should a Christian navigate the psychological and spiritual hit to their pride when they are no longer the one in charge? The path through this chasm is the ancient, narrow path of humility. You must realize, perhaps for the first time in your adult life, that your value was never actually located in your job title, your professional rank, or your annual production. Those things were merely the dross of a temporary assignment. Your true value is, and has always been, anchored in your status as a child of God – a position that no retirement board can ever revoke. The fear of being irrelevant is actually the “death rattle” of the ego. It’s the sound of your professional vanity being stripped away so that you can finally see that only God is truly indispensable.

Being “irrelevant” in the eyes of the world is often the divine prerequisite for becoming truly useful in the eyes of the King. When you no longer have a title to protect or a reputation to maintain, you are finally free to serve in the shadows where the real work of the Kingdom continues to take place. This is the transition from the boardroom to the basin. You are now free to be the one who prays in secret, who mentors without needing a credit line, and who washes the feet of the broken without requiring the applause of a crowd. The empty chair at the office isn’t a tragedy of a finished life. It’s a formal invitation to a different kind of table, where the seating chart is arranged by grace rather than by a corporate hierarchy. In this new season, your lack of “importance” becomes your greatest strength, allowing you to point away from yourself and entirely toward the Master you have served all along.

Parte III: The Vocabulary of Wisdom

The Duty of the Elder: The Crown of Glory and the Call to Mentor

In our culture, gray hair is treated like a biological defect to be dyed, hidden, or ignored. We view aging as a slow retreat into a diminished life. The outer man is wasting away. But the Bible views the passage of time as the accumulation of spiritual capital. Proverbs 16:31 tells us that gray hair is a “crown of glory” when it is found in the path of righteousness. This isn’t just a compliment for the elderly; it’s a job description. The “crown” is not for sitting on a throne of leisure. It’s for the grit of leadership and the duty of the elder.

We find the mechanics of this duty in Titus 2. Paul doesn’t tell the older men and women to find a hobby and stay out of the way. He tells them to be “temperate, worthy of respect, self-controlled,” and to “train the younger” generation. Why does the church – and the world – desperately need the mentorship of those who have finished their careers? It is because wisdom cannot be downloaded. It must be lived. It must be passed along as iron sharpens iron. The younger generation is drowning in information but starving for perspective. They have energy, but you have scars. You have seen markets crash, you have seen marriages survive the “thorns,” and you have seen God remain faithful through forty years of Mondays. Stewardship in this season means realizing that your experience is not your private property. It is a resource on loan from the Master, meant to be poured into the next generation. If you take your wisdom to the grave without passing it on, you have wasted the Owner’s most precious investment.

The Legacy of Prayer: The Global Reach of a Small Room

There is a recurring myth that our usefulness is tied to our mobility. We think that if we can’t “do” things – if we can’t travel, build, or lead meetings – then our work is finished. This is a misunderstanding of the spiritual economy. I knew a woman whose physical world eventually shrank to the four walls of a single room in a nursing home. Her body was a wreck of arthritis and age. To the world, she was a “ghost” waiting for the end. But in the Kingdom, she was a heavy hitter.

She had a map and a notebook. She spent her days in the rugged, invisible labor of intercession. She covered the globe from her bedside, praying for missionaries in the bush of Africa and young pastors in the concrete jungles of the city. Can a retiree really make a global impact from a position of physical weakness? Absolutely. In fact, her weakness was her greatest asset. She didn’t have the distraction of a busy schedule or the illusion of her own strength. She had the grit of a woman who knew that the “prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective” (James 5:16). Her legacy wasn’t in a building with her name on it. It was in the lives of people she had never met, sustained by the spiritual work she did when the world thought she was “done.” Retirement isn’t a withdrawal from the battle. It is often a move to the strategic command center of prayer. It’s not a demotion, but a promotion. Even Jesus, when He was raised and seated at the Father’s right hand, entered this most important ministry of intercession.

Writing the Final Chapters: Finding Purpose in the Reassignment

We often treat the final chapters of our lives like the “credits” rolling at the end of a movie – a time to stop paying attention and just walk out. But for the steward, the final chapters are where the plot actually resolves. This is the part that matters. How can a Christian find their specific purpose in retirement when the old titles are gone? It begins by stopping the search for a new “career” and starting the search for a “reassignment.”

Finding your purpose requires a heart that is willing to be small. It might mean volunteering to teach a trade to a fatherless boy, using your administrative skills to help a struggling nonprofit, or simply being the grandparent who speaks the Gospel into the ears of a child while the world screams for their attention. It is about courage in the mundane. You find your purpose at the intersection of the world’s need and the wisdom you have gathered over seventy years. Don’t look for a “retirement plan”; look for a “stewardship mandate.”

The Master is not looking for a perfect spreadsheet of your accomplishments. He is looking for a heart that says, “I am still here, and I am still Yours.” Maybe the intercession begins with yourself: “Lord, I’m listening. What is your bidding today?” The final chapters are not about what you can no longer do. God knows about that already. The final chapters are about what only you can do because of the road you have traveled. You are writing the legacy of a life that refused to be put out to pasture. You are proving that the soul doesn’t retire – it just journeys closer to the Source. With that comes the courage to seek new ways to serve. I knew a retired engineer who, in his early retirement years, served on many engineering missionary projects around the world. But as a 90-year-old, he kept seeking ways to serve, although no longer on engineering trips. But he could still vacuum the Sunday school classrooms after Sunday services.

Parte IV: Managing the Master’s Assets

Generosity Without a Salary: Providence Over the Pension

When the steady rhythm of a bi-weekly paycheck ceases, a subtle fear often takes root in the heart. We view the “fixed income” and the “pension” as the boundaries of God’s ability to provide. In our fear of limitations, we are tempted to close the hand we once held open. We tell ourselves that we need to “be responsible,” which is often a religious mask for the ancient sin of hoarding. How can a retiree continue to be generous when there is no new income flowing into the bank account? The answer lies in shifting our gaze from the pension to the Provider.

Stewardship on a fixed income is the ultimate test of providence. It is the grit of the widow with her two mites, realizing that the math of the Kingdom is different from the math of the market. Generosity is not a luxury for the wealthy, but a discipline for the faithful. You might not be able to write the same checks you once did, but you are still called to invest in the Master’s business. This requires rugged discernment. It means prioritizing the local church and the needs of the broken over the “idols of comfort” that often clamor for a retiree’s money. Trusting in providence means believing that the God who sustained you through forty-plus years of labor is not going to abandon you during twenty-plus years of reassignment. When you give from your “limited” resources, you are declaring to your own soul that your security is not in the vault, but in the Lord’s Word.

The Stewardship of Time: Spending the New Currency

In the retirement season, the very nature of your “currency” undergoes a radical transformation. For decades, you likely operated in a state of chronic time-poverty, trading your hours for a paycheck and squeezing your family, your faith, and your rest into the leftover, narrow margins. Now, you may find that your liquid capital is more constrained, but you have suddenly come into a massive, almost overwhelming influx of time. This is the one resource in the universe that you can never earn back, and it’s exactly what every younger person in your life is currently starving for.

The temptation, however, is to treat this sudden wealth of hours as if it were worthless dross – something to be “killed” rather than invested. We see this everywhere: retirees spending thousands of hours submerged in the 24-hour news cycle, becoming experts on things they cannot change, and angry at people they will never meet. We see it in hobbies that terminate entirely on the self, serving no purpose other than to pass the time until the sun goes down. This is the trap of the “permanent Saturday” of leisure. But from a biblical perspective, time is not a commodity you own, so you can waste it on yourself. Time is the Master’s asset. It’s been entrusted to you for the final stretch of your journey. It must be spent on things that will outlast your own heartbeat. So, where and with whom will you invest it?

How should a Christian practically and effectively invest their time once the 9-to-5 schedule disappears? The most strategic way to spend this new currency is by investing it directly in people. You are called to move from the visible labor of the marketplace to the invisible, grit-heavy labor that the busy, frantic world completely neglects. This is what we call the stewardship of presence. It means being the grandparent who doesn’t just “watch” the kids, but truly listens to their fears and dreams without one eye on the clock. It means being the mentor who meets a struggling young professional for coffee and stays for two hours because you no longer have a meeting to rush to. It means being the intercessor who stays on their knees for the broken marriages and the wayward souls of the neighborhood, long after everyone else has moved on to the next task on their list.

You have received a “reassignment” to the ministry of availability. In the economy of the Kingdom, being available is often more important than being capable. If you choose to spend this vast wealth of time only on your own amusement and comfort, you are acting like a manager who burns the owner’s cash just to keep his own feet warm. You are consuming capital rather than growing the estate. But if you spend these hours on the souls of others, offering your wisdom, your patience, and your undivided attention, you are building a legacy that will still be paying eternal dividends long after you have left this earth. You are moving from a life of “passing the time” to a life of “passing the baton” and “redeeming the time” – ensuring that your final chapters are the most productive ones you have ever written.

The Difficult Conversations: Biblical Estate Planning and Legacy

There is a bitter pill that many retirees simply refuse to swallow: the absolute necessity of talking openly and honestly about the end. We treat the conversation about our declining health, our final finances, and our end-of-life wishes as if it were a dark omen or a surrender of our dignity. We avoid these topics because they feel like a direct hit to our pride, forcing us to acknowledge that the strength we’ve traded on for decades is finally ebbing away. We desperately want to maintain the “strong one” facade for our adult children – the image of the invincible provider who never needs help and never faces a crisis he can’t manage. But we have to be blunt here: avoiding these conversations is not an act of strength or a way of protecting your family. It is a fundamental failure of stewardship. By staying silent to protect your ego, you are guaranteed to leave a chaotic mess for the people you love most, forcing them to make impossible decisions in a state of grief and confusion.

How can a Christian parent navigate the difficult conversations about health, finances, and end-of-life wishes without triggering family conflict?

You must approach this dialogue not as a morbid necessity, but as a final, sacrificial act of service to your household. You are the manager of the Master’s assets until the very last second, and biblical estate planning is about far more than just who inherits the house or the jewelry. It is about the “stewardship of the exit.” This is an honest, courage-filled conversation that shifts the focus from your loss of control to your faithfulness as a manager. It is a moment to look your children in the eye and say, “I am a manager of these resources, and my final task is to ensure they continue to serve the Master and provide peace for this family long after I am gone.” You aren’t speaking as a victim of time or a casualty of biology. You’re speaking as a traveler who is diligently preparing for the final leg of a long journey, ensuring his bags are packed and his destination is clear.

When you discuss your “wishes” and your medical directives, you aren’t making a demand for control from the grave; you are providing a mercy. You are relieving your children of the crushing burden of guessing what you would have wanted during a high-stakes crisis. You are removing the friction that leads to family feuds and legal battles over the dross of this world. A faithful legacy leaves behind clarity instead of chaos and the firm hope of the Gospel instead of a pile of unanswered questions. By being transparent about the end, you are performing the most important teaching task of your life. You are teaching your children how to die well – with dignity, with order, and with a focused gaze on Christ. This lesson is just as vital as any lesson you ever taught them about how to live well, because it proves that your faith is rugged enough to handle the reality of the grave without flinching. You are showing them that for the steward, the end is not a tragedy to be hidden, but a final assignment to be completed with honor. For more on this topic, see Guide no. 64.

Parte V: Finishing the Race Well

The Caleb Mindset: Taking the Mountain at Eighty-Five

We often treat the final decade of life as a slow, inevitable withdrawal – a gradual fading out of the light where we convince ourselves that our contribution is no longer required. Even Christian investment advisers often describe the early years of retirement as “go go,” the second decade as “slow go,” and the third as “no go.” We buy into the cultural script that the heavy lifting, the risk-taking, and the hard spiritual labor are strictly for the young, while our only remaining job is to sit quietly on the sidelines and watch the world pass us by like a movie we’ve already seen. But the tenacity of the biblical narrative shatters this passive, hollow model in the person of Caleb. In Joshua 14, we find an eighty-five-year-old man standing before his leader with his back straight and his eyes fixed on the horizon. Not the setting sun. But an active future. He wasn’t there to ask for a pension, a comfortable plot of land in a peaceful valley, or a quiet place to nurse his aches and wait for the end. Instead, he demanded a mountain – a rugged, dangerous territory inhabited by the Anakim giants. He looked at the challenges that terrified younger men and said, “I am still as strong today as the day Moses sent me out; I’m just as vigorous to go out to battle now as I was then.”

What does the perseverance of Caleb’s story teach us about staying faithful when the world expects us to disappear into the shadows?

It teaches us that faithfulness is not a state of being “used up” like a discarded tool or a spent battery. It’s a state of being “poured out” like a holy offering on an altar. Caleb wasn’t delusional about his biological age, nor was he trying to recapture his youth for the sake of his own vanity. He wanted that mountain because it was the specific inheritance God had promised. He knew that as long as he had breath in his lungs, he had a mandate that had not yet been fulfilled. He stayed in the fight because he understood a truth most retirees miss: a steward doesn’t retire from the mission just because the hair turns gray or the paychecks stop. What is your mandate?

Finishing the race well means fundamentally refusing the cultural “retirement” of the soul. It means rejecting the lie that your usefulness is tied to your economic productivity. It means looking at the brokenness of your community, the deep spiritual needs of your family, and the heavy, structural burdens of your local church and having the holy courage to say, “Give me that mountain.” Your strength may no longer reside in your physical muscles or your professional speed. But it is found in the refined iron of your experience, the persistent, tectonic power of your prayers, and a rugged refusal to quit when things get difficult. You are a veteran of the faith, and your scars are your credentials. The race isn’t over when you get the gold watch. It isn’t over when the body begins to slow down. The race is only over when you finally cross the threshold of heaven and stand before the Master to give your final account. Until that moment, the mountain is still standing, the giants are still there, and the calling to take ground for the King is as urgent as it was the very first day you followed Him.

The Hope of the Resurrection: The End of the Career vs. the End of the Life

For the man or woman of the world, the end of a career is a tragedy because it is a dress rehearsal for the end of life. If this world is all there is, then every gray hair is a reminder of approaching nothingness. But for the Christian, the “finish line” of a career is merely a change in scenery on the way to a glorious homecoming. We do not fear the end of the paycheck or the end of our physical strength because we are citizens of a Kingdom that is just getting started.

Proverbs 4:18 brilliantly describes this reality. “The path of the righteous is like the light of dawn, which shines brighter and brighter until full day.” Wait a minute. Doesn’t the sun wane in the retirement years? Isn’t retirement likened to dusk? Yes, by the world. But not by the Bible. Pastor John Piper said, “The Christian life is not moving toward night; it’s moving toward noon. There are no sunset years. There’s only eleven to noon.” So that means we don’t have race to the extent of “go-go” in those retirement years, because they will inevitably change to “slow go” and finally “no go.” People spend their whole lives saving so that they can “buy the dream” of retirement happy-land vacations. This is the opiate of the masses.

But the hope of the resurrection changes the way a Christian views aging. It changes everything because it reminds us that our “tents” are being folded up so that we can inherit a “building from God, an eternal house in heaven” (2 Corinthians 5:1). We don’t have to cling frantically to our youth or our professional relevance because we know that the best version of ourselves is yet to come. The resurrection is the ultimate answer to the “thorns” of aging. It tells us that the decay we feel in our joints is temporary, but the glory we are heading toward is permanent. When you realize that death is just the porch to the Master’s house, you stop treating your final years like a funeral and start treating them like a preparation for a noonday feast. The steward doesn’t fear the day the Owner calls for the final account. He looks forward to it, knowing that the “well done” of the Master is worth more than all the gold watches in the world.

Resting in Christ: Biblical Peace for the Fading Body

The world deals with the fear of aging by trying to ignore it, mask it, or buy it off. We spend billions on “anti-aging” dross, trying to pretend the pavement isn’t getting harder to walk on. But the Bible offers a more rugged peace – the peace of resting in Christ. How can a believer deal biblically with the fear of aging and the loss of independence? It starts by realizing that your independence was always an illusion. You were always a dependent creature, sustained by the “common grace” of every breath God gave you.

Aging is simply the process of God stripping away the scaffolding of our self-reliance so that we can see the Rock beneath. Resting in Christ means trusting that the One who carried you through the “Monday morning” of your youth is the same One who will carry you through the “Sunday evening” of your old age. And realizing that it’s really just noon. Isaiah 46:4 gives us the Master’s promise: “Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.”

You don’t have to be strong enough to finish; you only have to be faithful enough to lean. Finishing the race well isn’t about a sprint to the tape. It’s about a steady, gritty trust that doesn’t falter when the body does. It’s about waking up every day and realizing that your reassignment is a gift, your wisdom is a tool, and your Master is waiting at the end of the road. The race is long, the thorns are real, but the New City is in sight.

Conclusion: The Best is Yet to Come

In a coastal village I once visited, there was a bridge that took nearly a decade to complete. It was a rugged, gray structure designed to withstand the salt air and the battering of the Atlantic. The townspeople had grown impatient. For years, it looked like nothing more than a skeletal intrusion on the horizon. But on the day it was finally finished, I happened to be standing on the shore as the sun began to set. The light hit the spans at such an angle that the gray steel seemed to catch fire, turning into a bridge of gold that led straight into the glowing horizon. The workers didn’t just walk away when the final bolt was tightened; they stood there, exhausted and dirty, watching the light dance on their finished work.

Your life is that bridge. The forty years you spent in the marketplace, the decades of raising a family, the thousands of “Mondays” that felt like nothing but toil – they were the girders and the caissons. And now, as the sun begins to “set” on your career, the light is finally hitting the structure in a way that reveals its true purpose. Retirement is not a waiting room for death; it is the moment the bridge is finally ready to carry the weight of its true intention. It is a training ground for heaven, where God replaces the sun and moon.

We have been conditioned to see the empty calendar as a sign of obsolescence. We look at the blank spaces on Tuesday afternoon and feel the cold wind of irrelevance. But the Gospel tells a different story. Those empty spaces are not a void. They’re a sanctuary. They’re the “reassignment” to the things that matter most now. In the Kingdom of God, you are never “put out to pasture.” You are moved to the front lines of the Spirit. You are the elder who carries the wisdom, the intercessor who holds the line, and the steward who finally has the time to look the Master in the eye without the distraction of a looming deadline.

The best is yet to come because the bridge Designer stands at the other side. Your work has not ended; it has simply been refined. The dross of professional vanity is being burned away so that the gold of your character can shine. Do not fear what appears to be the sunset. For the believer, it’s just the prelude to the noonday that will never end.

A Prayer for the Empty Calendar

Holy and Sovereign Father, we come to You with hands that feel strangely light and hearts that feel heavy with the fear of being forgotten. We lift up the man or woman looking at an empty calendar today, wondering if their voice still carries weight or if their life still holds a purpose in Your economy.

Forgive us, Lord, for tying our worth to our production and our identity to our paychecks. We confess that we have often worshipped the work of our hands more than the God who gave us the strength to labor. Help us to remember that You prepared for us every good work in Christ – both the work that we do before and during retirement. Break the idol of irrelevance that haunts our quiet afternoons. Remind us that we are not “former” anything in Your sight, but we are Your children, Your stewards, and Your ambassadors, now and forever.

Grant us the courage and perseverance of Caleb to see the mountains that still need to be taken. Give us the heart of Martha to serve from our knees when our feet can no longer carry us. Fill the silence of our homes with the music of Your presence. May we use this new currency of time to invest in the souls of the young, to bind up the brokenhearted, and to prepare our own hearts for the New City.

When the shadows lengthen and our strength fades, sustain us with the shining promise that You are the God who carries us even to our gray hairs. May we finish this race not with a whimper of boredom, but with an echo of Your voice shouting, “Well done.”

Amen.

About the Authors

Dr. Richard John Perhai serves as Vice President and Academic Dean at Kyiv Theological Seminary, where he has been a professor of Bible and Theology since 2003. He holds a Ph.D. in Systematic Theology (magna cum laude) from Baptist Bible Seminary, a Th.M. in Bible Exposition from Dallas Theological Seminary. He is the author of Antiochene Theōria in the Writings of Theodore of Mopsuestia and Theodoret of Cyrus (Fortress Press, 2015).

Dr. Larry Oats is a longtime Bible professor and former Dean of Maranatha Baptist Seminary (2009-2019) with over 40 years of service at Maranatha Baptist University in Watertown, Wisconsin. A graduate of MBU, he holds a PhD in Systematic Theology and specializes in Fundamentalism and Baptist history.

#73 Using Wealth for Eternal Good: What Does the Bible Say About Money?

Part 1: The Owner and the Manager

The Master’s Estate: Psalm 24 and the Myth of Title

Does a man truly own the ground he stands on? We walk upon the earth, we pave it with the stones of our ambitions, and we fence it off with legal parchment, yet the soil remains indifferent to our claims of title. It belongs to the Lord. According to Psalm 24:1, “The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it.” Every atom of the grit under our fingernails and every digit in the ledger of a bank account is His by right of creation. This truth thunders through the Word, a declaration that shatters the vanity of the self-made man. We are not owners; we are merely the help. Assistants. Stewards. We are the ones hired to till the Master’s estate while the sun is high, charged with the oversight of a farm that was never ours to begin with and will never be ours to keep.

To think otherwise is a delusion of the highest order; it is the pride of a tenant who, having stayed in the house for a season, begins to believe he laid the foundation. It’s like the foolishness of the tenant farmer, who thinks he has more rights to the farm than the Owner’s Son. Understanding the difference between owning and managing money is the first step toward true freedom. But all of us, whether managing spiritual assets or physical assets, are responsible for giving an account to the Master. Applying Biblical stewardship principles means recognizing that He expects fruit—a return on His investment—and learning how to be a good steward of God’s resources.

Does God really own my bank account today? Yes. Scripture is clear: “The silver is mine and the gold is mine, declares the Lord Almighty” (Haggai 2:8). Your bank account is simply a portion of His estate that you have been appointed to manage for a season. We breathe His air. We spend His gold. We occupy His space. Even the land, the most fundamental means of production, belongs to the Lord. God sees us as sojourners who do not have permanent rights to the land (Leviticus 25:23). While this should give us peace, it often does not.

This is the fundamental friction of the human soul: we want to be the lord of the manor, but we are only the stewards of the dust. Can a man truly claim what he cannot sustain? We cannot hold our own breath for more than a few minutes without gasping for the life God provides. Yet we speak of “my” career, “my” wealth, and “my” legacy as if we were the architects of providence. This is the heavy reality of the pavement. We are proxies. Delegates. Representatives of the Creator. We manage wealth that is borrowed and temporary.

The renewed heart must reckon with this total dependence. God owns the cattle on a thousand hills, but He also owns the hills themselves (Psalm 50:10). He owns the lungs that allow us to boast and the mind that allows us to scheme. To mismanage the King’s resources is no light thing. It is not merely a financial error; it is theological rebellion. We act as if the Master is never coming back. We act as if the farm is our inheritance rather than our assignment. But clenched fists are unnecessary. The Father is happy to give us His kingdom.

The High Cost of Sin: Genesis 3 and the Scarcity of the Fall

Where did this fever for ownership begin? It began in the garden, amidst the wreckage of a broken covenant. In Genesis 3, the human heart suffered a catastrophic shift. We were created to find our security in the presence of the Father, but sin turned us into orphans of our own making. We became afraid. The Fall did not just bring guilt; it brought a gnawing, visceral scarcity. We looked at the world and no longer saw the Father’s provision. We were duped into believing that He was holding back His provisions. We saw a wilderness that we had to conquer or be consumed by. And so, we hoard. This is why the hand clenches tight around the coin. We are terrified of not having enough because we no longer trust the One who has everything. Sin makes us small. It shrinks our horizon until all we can see is our own need, our own belly, our own perceived survival. We stockpile dross because we have lost sight of the gold of His grace. The urge to possess is the scar of the Fall. It is the frantic effort of a fallen creature to build a fortress out of shadows.

Why do I feel so much pressure to save and accumulate more? This pressure often stems directly from the Fall. In our fallen state, we seek security in “things” rather than in the Provider.

At least three forces operate simultaneously to reinforce this pressure. First, cultural and marketing influences surround us every day with consumerism. Endless advertising insinuates that buying and possessing things brings all the happiness, pleasure, and fulfillment we could ever want. Banks join in, offering easy credit schemes that lure people into debt. This is an instant gratification culture. Second, conflicting concerns add to the pressure. There are justifiable reasons for saving and planning for the future, such as unforeseen crises, college education, or retirement. However, we seem to be miswired to never think we have enough. No matter how much we have, we illegitimately think we need twice as much! Third, the underlying spiritual issue adds to the pressure. Accumulating seems to provide security and indicate success. But all this can threaten devotion to God because we cannot be loyal to both affluence and God simultaneously. The pressure we feel reflects a fundamental competition for our ultimate trust and allegiance.

Accumulation feels like safety, but without trust in God’s providence, it becomes a cage of anxiety. A fortress made of shadows cannot hold back the tide of providence. We toil and we sweat, thinking that our labor is what keeps the world turning. But it’s vanity. It’s chasing after wind that the Preacher warns us about (Ecclesiastes 1:14). The friction between the heart and the Word is nowhere more evident than in our desire for autonomy. We want to be the source. We want to be the fountain. But we are only the pipes. When a pipe begins to think it is the water, it becomes clogged with its own importance. Our hoarding is a symptom of deep, spiritual malnutrition. We starve ourselves of the joy of God’s sovereignty because we are too busy trying to play the part of the sovereign. We are afraid that if we let go, there will be nothing left. We forget that the Master is not a tyrant who begrudges us our bread, but the Father who provides for the birds of the air. Yet, in our depravity, we would rather be hungry kings of a wasteland than well-fed servants in the King’s palace.

The Joy of the Proxy: Living as God’s Delivery Driver

Is there a way out of this cage of our own making? There is a joy that the world cannot understand, a joy found in being a proxy. We must see ourselves as God’s delivery drivers. The wealth that passes through our hands—be it the wealth of coin, or time, or talent—is not meant to terminate on us. It is meant to flow. It is a river, not a reservoir (2 Corinthians 9:10). When we understand that we are merely the channel through which the Master’s goodness reaches the world, the weight of ownership is lifted. There is a profound liberty in realizing that nothing is truly ours to lose. What is the difference between a “reservoir” and a “river” mindset? A reservoir mindset seeks to hoard wealth for personal security, fearing it will run out. A river mindset understands that God provides wealth so that it can flow through the believer to meet the needs of others and the Kingdom. If the Master sends a shipment through us, we deliver it with gladness. If the shipment is small, we are faithful with it. If the shipment is great, we do not grow proud, for we know we did not manufacture the goods. We’re just the ones behind the wheel. The pressure to sustain ourselves by our own grit vanishes when we realize that the Owner is responsible for the inventory.

But the soul resists this. The soul wants the credit. The soul wants to see its own name on the deed. We must go back to the ancient paths and remember that the saints of old understood their lives as a vapor. They knew they were sojourners. They knew that the “stuff” of this life is merely the dross that will be burned away, leaving only the remnants of what was done for the glory of the King. To be a steward is to live with a constant eye on the return of the Master. It is to manage the farm with such diligence that, when He appears, He finds His estate flourishing. We are not here to build our own kingdoms. We are here to occupy until He comes (Luke 19:13). We’re His vassals. His representatives. This is the high calling of a borrowed life. It is a life of friction, yes, but it is also a life of immense peace. For when you own nothing, you have nothing to fear losing. You are simply a manager, a servant, a proxy of the Living God.

How can I tell if I am acting as an owner or a manager? The litmus test is simple: an owner feels entitled to the wealth and is devastated by loss, while a manager feels grateful for the entrustment and is steady during loss because the Master is in control. Why then do we still tremble at the thought of sacrifice? Because we still believe the lie that our life consists of the abundance of our possessions. The widow with her two mites was a better manager than the rich man with his overflowing barns, for she understood the theology of the borrowed life (Mark 12:41-44). She knew that even those two small coins belonged to Him. She was a delivery driver who gave the last of the cargo back to the Warehouse. That is the grit of faith. That is the marrow of the Christian life. Daily dying to the impulse of ownership. Stewardship is hard. But not nearly as hard as assumed ownership. Stewardship is the grit of making decisions that honor God when the world demands we honor ourselves. We are merely the ones He has trusted to walk upon His earth for a season.

—

Part 2: The Idols in the Wallet

The Mirage of Security: Why Wealth Never Feels Like “Enough”

We are a people haunted by the phantom of “enough.” It is a number that sits forever on the horizon, retreating with every step we take toward it. We tell ourselves that ten thousand dollars will buy us sleep. We reach it. The fear remains. We then set our sights on one hundred thousand or one million. We believe that at some specific weight of gold, the heart will finally stop its frantic drumming. It is a lie. How much money is enough to stop financial anxiety? The hard truth is that the soul was never meant to find its rest in a bank balance, and when we try to force it to do so, we are asking the dust to act as a god. As Jesus warned in Luke 12:15, “Life does not consist in an abundance of possessions.” Fear is not a financial problem. It’s a theological one. It’s the visceral cry of a heart that has misplaced its treasure.

We seek security in the vault because we have forgotten the sovereignty of the Father. If God does not hold our tomorrow, then no amount of currency can ever be sufficient to shield us from the terrors of a broken world. We hoard because we are trying to build a wall against providence. But that wall is made of sand. The more we stack, the more we realize how easily the tide of a single illness, a single market crash, or a single act of God can wash it all away.

This is the vanity of the pavement. We sweat for numbers that cannot love us back and cannot save us when the shadows lengthen. People often ask, “is hoarding money for the future a sin,” yet the deeper issue is often a heart struggling with financial anxiety. To trust in wealth is to lean our entire weight upon a reed that is already snapping. It is the grit of the human condition to seek peace in the very things that are passing away, leaving many to wonder, “why am I always worried about money?” when they should be trusting God with your finances.

Comparison and the Chasm of Envy: The Death of Gratitude

And then there is the driveway. We look across the fence, and the joy of our own house vanishes. It is the chasm of envy, a deep and jagged rift that swallows the marrow of our gratitude. We see the neighbor’s new car, the pristine lines of their success, and suddenly the provision God gave us yesterday feels like dross today. This is the poison of comparison. It’s theft. It robs the believer of the ability to say “Thank You” for the daily bread already sitting on the table. Why do we constantly compare our wealth to others? We do this because we have tied our identity to our relative standing in the dirt. We do not look up at the Cross; we look sideways at the lawn. Envy is the daughter of pride. It is the refusal to be content with the Master’s distribution. When we covet, we are effectively telling God that He has made a mistake in His bookkeeping. We are saying that He has been too generous with others and too stingy with us. This is the friction of a heart that believes it deserves more than grace. We forget the wisdom of Proverbs 14:30, that “envy rots the bones.” Every cent we have is an unmerited gift, not a wage for our own righteousness. The moment we start comparing our stewardship to another’s, we cease to be stewards and start acting like competitors. But there is no competition in the Kingdom. There is only faithfulness. To look at the neighbor’s driveway is to turn our back on the Master’s face. It is toil that produces nothing but bitterness and a hollow chest.

The “Needs” That Aren’t: Killing Materialism at the Root

How then do we distinguish between the bread of life and ego ornaments? We have become experts at baptizing our desires and calling them “needs.” We convince ourselves that the larger house is for the family, or the expensive suit is for the ministry, when in reality, they are often just altars built to our own vanity. The ego is a hungry beast. It requires a constant stream of new acquisitions to feel relevant. To feel esteemed. How can a Christian truly avoid materialism? The answer is not found in a vow of poverty, but in a radical honesty before the Word. We must ask our soul: “Does this purchase serve the Master’s estate, or does it merely cushion my own pride?” As the apostle Paul wrote in 1 Timothy 6:6-7, “Godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it.”

Most of what we call “need” is actually a demand for comfort or status. We want to be seen. We want to be insulated. We want to feel like we are in control. But a Christian has died to the world. A dead man has no ego to feed. If we are to avoid the trap of materialism, we must cultivate a holy indifference to the toys made of dross. We must be willing to live with less, trusting that the King can do more. This isn’t about rules. It’s about the heart’s alignment. How do I stop money anxiety during a financial crisis? You find rest by realizing your wallet is not your savior. If the wallet is full of idols, there is no room for the Spirit. We must strip away the layers of self-justification and stand naked before the truth that we brought nothing into this world, and we will certainly take nothing out. What remains is only what was given away in His name. And those are riches indeed, riches that cannot be stolen or destroyed.

—

Part 3: The Vocabulary of Generosity

The First Fruits: Giving from the Harvest, Not the Leftovers

We are a people who love to tip God. We treat the Creator of the stars like a waiter who did a decent job, tossing Him the copper remnants of our feast once we have gorged ourselves on our own plans. This is a stench in the nostrils of the Almighty. Should Christians tithe ten percent, or is it about a different heart posture? While the law of the tithe pointed toward a requirement, we know that the deeper biblical pattern is found in the “first fruits.” It comes from the ancient path. Under the old covenant, the farmer brought the very first sheaf of the harvest to the temple while the rest of the crop was still standing in the field, vulnerable to the locust and the storm (Proverbs 3:9-10). He gave before he knew if he would have enough for himself. This was not a calculation. It was a confession.

What does “first fruits” giving look like today? It means returning the Master’s portion before we even touch the tools for our own desires. To give from the leftovers is to say that we are the owners who graciously decide to share a bit of our surplus. To give first is to admit we are managers. We must kill the habit of giving from what is “left over” at the end of the month. There is rarely anything left over because the ego is an infinite consumer. If you wait until your desires are satisfied to give to the Kingdom, the King will never see a dime. First fruits are a physical strike against our own depravity. It is a discipline that forces the soul to trust in providence rather than the pantry. And why shouldn’t we trust the Provider’s good providence? For He rains on both the just and the unjust.

Cheerful Grit: When Generosity Becomes a Disciplined Habit

There is a modern heresy that says giving must always feel like a warm, golden glow in the chest. We wait for the emotional surge, the tear-jerking video, or the soaring music before we reach for the wallet. This is not stewardship. It’s entertainment. We are buying a feeling, not serving a Master. The soul requires something more rugged: cheerful grit. Does God only love a giver who “feels” happy? The “cheerfulness” the Apostle speaks of in 2 Corinthians 9:7 is not a giddy, fleeting emotion; it is the settled, quiet joy of a servant who knows he is doing his duty to a good King. Giving is a muscle that must be exercised when the heart is cold and the bank account is low. It is a disciplined habit of the will. There will be mornings when you do not want to give. There will be seasons when the dross of this world feels more precious than the gold of the next. In those moments, we give because we are commanded. We give because we are dead to ourselves. If your generosity depends on your mood, you are a slave to your hormones, not a servant of the Word. We need a theology of giving that can survive a Tuesday morning in a grey office. We need the grit to write the check when the furnace is broken, and the car is making that sound again. That is where the idols are truly toppled—in the mundane, disciplined, quiet act of being faithful when there is no applause and no emotional payoff. But cheerful giving is more than this.

God as the Model of a Cheerful Giver

God loves a cheerful giver because it reflects His own character and aligns with the fundamental design of creation and redemption. The primary reason God loves a cheerful giver is that He Himself is a cheerful giver. Charles Spurgeon preached that God demonstrates this through His greatest gift—sparing not His own Son but delivering Him up for us all. God has given without our asking, freely extending His love to us even when we were dead in trespasses and sins. He continues to give generously. Since we naturally love what reflects our own character, God’s delight in cheerful givers flows from recognizing Himself in their generosity. God’s delight in cheerful givers flows from seeing His Son in them.

Secret Mercy: Killing Pride Through the Local Church

Pride is a parasite that feeds on our virtues. It can turn an act of mercy into a monument to the self. This is why the Master commanded us in Matthew 6:3 to give in secret, so that the left hand does not know what the right hand is doing. There is a terrifying power in private mercy. When we give where no one can see, we are performing a direct execution of our own vanity. We are saying that the approval of the Father is more than enough. If we only give when our name is on the plaque, we are merely trading our money for social capital. Where should a Christian give their money first? The ancient paths are clear: the local assembly.

The church is the “household of faith,” the grit and marrow of the Kingdom on earth (Galatians 6:10). It is where the Word is preached and the sacraments administered. It is the first line of defense for the poor among us. We give there first because it is an act of submission to the community God has placed us in. It is an expression of our covenant identity. We give to the local body because it is the most hidden, the most routine, and often the most unglamorous form of generosity. From there, the mercy flows outward to the widow, the orphan, and the desperate. But it begins in silence, in the local context, and in secret. This is how we kill the ego. This is how we ensure that the dross of our pride does not corrupt the gold of our stewardship. We are managers of a borrowed life, and a manager doesn’t need his name on the Master’s check.

—

Part 4: The Logistics of Love

The Local Church First: Priority of the Household of Faith

We live in an age of fragmented loyalties, where the heart is pulled toward every shiny cause that flickers across a screen. We are tempted to send our resources to distant horizons while the roof of the local sanctuary leaks and the widow in the next pew goes without heat. But the tradition, rooted in the ancient order of the Word, calls us back to the “household of faith.” As Galatians 6:10 commands, we are to do good to all, but especially to those who are of the household of faith. This is not a suggestion; it is a priority of the blood. The local church is the primary outpost of the Kingdom on the pavement of this world. It is where the bread is broken, where the water of baptism hits the skin, and where the Word is preached with the weight of eternity. If we bypass the local body to fund our own private interests, we are acting like spiritual consumers rather than covenant members.

We give to the local church first because it is an act of submission. It is the hard work of being accountable to people who actually know your name and your sins. It is easy to love a “cause” three thousand miles away. It is a toil to love the abrasive brother in the seat behind you. Yet, our stewardship is meant to sustain the ministry of the Word and the care of the saints right where we stand (1 Corinthians 9:14). When we lay our portion at the feet of the local elders, we are saying that the survival of the Gospel in our own zip code matters more than our own preferences. It is the logistical center of God’s mercy. If the local lampstand goes out because the managers were too busy funding their own hobbies, we have failed in our primary duty. The local church is the anchor. Without it, our generosity is just a wandering stream that eventually disappears into the sand of our own sentimentality.

Strategic Compassion: Discerning Real Need on the Pavement

The world is full of hands reaching out, and not every hand is empty for the same reason. This is the friction of the pavement: we are commanded to be generous, but we are also commanded to be wise as serpents. There is a “mercy” that is actually a form of cruelty, one that subsidizes destruction and fuels the very vices that keep a man in the gutter. Strategic compassion is the strength of discerning between a crisis and a habit. We are called to relieve the suffering of the broken, but we are not called to fund the rebellion of the idle. The path recognizes the dignity of labor and the reality of total depravity. Following the principle of 2 Thessalonians 3:10, we recognize that while grace is free, stewardship of that grace requires discernment. We will always have the poor among us. But are some of them of our own making? Have we failed to apply the Apostle Paul’s criterion, “if he is not willing to work, then he will not eat,” to our stewardship of giving? Since it all belongs to the Lord, we will be held accountable for this as well. And who actually benefits from uncontrolled welfare? Do the recipients or someone else? The stewardship of the mature includes developing the capacities of others to also become faithful stewards, rather than merely remaining dependent.

We must look for real needs—the father who lost his job, the mother fleeing violence, the child without shoes—and meet them with a lavishness that reflects the grace we ourselves received. But we must also have the spine to say “no” when “yes” would only prolong a man’s flight from God. This requires time. It requires getting our boots muddy in the lives of the poor. You cannot exercise strategic compassion from a distance. You must know the stories. We look for the “remnants” of hope in a person’s life and invest there. We ask if the gift will lead a soul closer to the Gospel or merely make them comfortable in their vanity. To be taken advantage of by others is not a sign of holiness. It’s a sign of poor stewardship. We are managing the King’s gold, and we must spend it on things that have eternal weight. We look for institutions that combine the bread of the earth with the Bread of Heaven. If we give only to satisfy our own guilt, we have missed the point.

Teaching the Next Generation: Raising Sojourners, Not Owners

Our children are born with clenched fists. It is the mark of the Fall. From the nursery, the cry of “Mine!” echoes the rebellion of Eden. If we do not intentionally train them in the theology of the borrowed life, the world will gladly train them in the liturgy of the mall. Teaching children about biblical stewardship is not done through a lecture, but through the visceral reality of sacrifice. They must see us struggle for the sake of the Gospel. If they only see money as the means to buy toys and comfort, they will grow up as idolaters with a Christian veneer. We must show them the ledger. As Proverbs 22:6 suggests, we must train them in the way they should go, which includes the way they should hold the King’s resources.

We must let them see the check being written for the missionary or the local church before the vacation is booked. We must involve them in the “logistics of love” by letting them help choose which needs to meet. We teach them that money is a tool, like a hammer or a plow, meant to till the soil of the heart for the seeds of the Word. We explain that we are a family of managers, not owners. When they receive a gift, we help them divide it—not out of a sense of legalism, but as a celebratory acknowledgment that the Master has provided. We tell them the stories of the saints of old who gave until it hurt, because they knew they had a better and lasting possession in the heavens (Hebrews 10:34). If our children grow up to be successes in the world’s eyes but hoard their dross like dragons, we have failed them. We must ground them in the reality that they are sojourners. The greatest legacy we can leave is not a trust fund, but a child who understands that their life is a vapor and their wallet is a weapon for the Kingdom.

—

Part 5: The Wealth That Outlasts the World

Sending It Ahead

There is a foolishness that clings to the dying. We see men in their final hours, surrounded by the dross they spent a lifetime accumulating, clutching at deeds and titles as if they could be used as currency at the gates of eternity. They cannot. You cannot take it with you. The hearse carries no trailer, and the shroud has no pockets. This is the blunt reality of the pavement: everything we see, touch, and hoard is currently in a state of decay. But the Master gave us a mysterious and heavy command—to store up treasure in heaven. We must understand the mechanics of this. We do not “buy” our way into the New City; that was paid for in blood, not coin. Rather, we send the results of our obedience ahead of us. When a manager uses the Master’s resources to fund the preaching of the Word, to sustain the broken, or to build the local church, that wealth is transformed. It is no longer mere paper or digital ghosts. It becomes an eternal weight of glory. We are like merchants in a foreign land who know the local currency is about to be demonetized. The wise man trades the failing scrip of this world, while there is still time, for the gold of the Kingdom. To give is to invest in the only “impact” that survives the fire of judgment. Every act of hidden generosity, every sacrifice of comfort for the sake of the Cross, is a deposit made in a vault where the moth cannot reach and the thief cannot break through. We are not losing what we give. We are finally making it permanent.

The Reward of the Faithful

We are often tempted to look for our “paycheck” in the here and now. We want the “vibrant” life, the earthly blessing, the visible return on our spiritual investment. But the heart knows that the account is rarely settled on this side of the soil. If you are looking for an earthly reward for your stewardship, you have already received your payment in full. The true reward of the faithful is not found in the increase of the estate, but in the presence of Christ Himself. It is the “Well done” spoken by the only Voice that matters. This is the marrow of our hope. We toil in the heat of the day, managing the Master’s farm with aching backs and calloused hands, not for a larger share of the dirt, but for the joy of the Master’s return. The paycheck of the believer is not a figure in a ledger, but the face of the King. We must cultivate a holy patience. The saints of old died without seeing the full harvest of their labor. Yet they died in faith, knowing that their labor was not in vain. We are not working for a retirement in this world. We are working for a resurrection. The weight of human reality is heavy, but it is light compared to the joy of standing before the Throne and realizing that not a single penny given in His name was wasted. The dross is gone. The vanity is burned away. What remains is the sheer, unmerited grace of being welcomed into the City where we no longer need to manage the dust, for we will inherit the Light.

Resting in Providence

How then does a man stand when the pavement cracks beneath his feet? How do we trust God with our finances during a crisis, when the job is gone, or the walls are closing in? We rest in providence. This is not a passive or “vibrant” optimism. It’s the rugged, gritty confidence that the Sovereign God of the universe does not lose track of His children. A crisis is merely a moment when the illusion of our own control is stripped away. We were never the ones sustaining ourselves. We were always dependent on the hand of the Father, even when the cupboards were full. To trust God in a crisis is to go back to the first principles of the borrowed life. If the Master has seen fit to reduce the inventory of the farm, that is His prerogative. He is the Owner. We are the help. Our task does not change because circumstances do. We remain faithful with the remnants. We do not panic like the orphans of the world, for we have a Father who knows our needs before we ask. We look at the birds of the air—they do not hoard, they do not build storehouses of dross. Yet the Master feeds them. Are we not of more value than they? The friction of a crisis is meant to drive the dross of self-reliance out of our souls. It forces us to lean our entire weight on the Word. We stand on the ancient paths and remember that the Lord provides. He may not provide for our ego, and He may not provide for our vanity, but He will provide for our life and His glory. We rest not in the abundance of the pantry, but in the character of the Provider. The earth is the Lord’s. The crisis is His. The future is His. And we are His.

—

Conclusion: The Final Transaction

There was a woman in our parish, old and bent like a weathered oak, who lived in a room that smelled of linoleum and peppermint. By the world’s ledger, she was a failure of the highest order. She owned no title, drove no car, and left behind no monuments of marble or glass. When she died, her earthly effects fit into three cardboard boxes. But those boxes were a lie. They did not contain the reality of her estate. For decades, this sister had been a master of the final transaction. She lived on the grit of a meager pension, yet she was the most prolific delivery driver for the King I have ever known. She had a way of finding the friction in other people’s lives—the young mother without milk, the lonely student, the missionary in a fever-drenched land—and quietly applying the grease of her secret mercy. She practiced the theology of the borrowed life to the very marrow of her bones. When she breathed her last, she did not leave a void. She left a massive, eternal footprint that shook the gates of the New City. She had sent it all ahead. While others were polishing their dross, she was converting her dust into the gold of the Kingdom.

We are all heading toward that same quiet room. We are all marching toward an account we must give to the Master. The pavement we walk today will one day give way to the floor of the throne room, and the books will be opened. On that day, the Master will not ask to see your portfolio or the prestige of your career. He will not be impressed by the walls you built to shield yourself from the world. He will look for the scars of stewardship. He will look for the evidence that you understood your life was a loan. He will ask what you did with His dirt, His air, His silver, His life that He placed in you. Every coin we clutched in fear will be a weight around our necks, but every penny we released in faith will be a song of praise. The final transaction is not about what we kept, but about what we surrendered. It is the moment when the manager hands back the keys and realizes that the joy of the Master was always the true inheritance.

A Pastoral Prayer

Holy and Sovereign Father, we are men and women of dusty hearts and clenched fists. We confess that we have loved the gift more than the Giver. We have tried to build our own kingdoms on Your land, using Your resources to fund our own vanity. Break the fever of our hoarding. Strip away the dross of our self-reliance and grant us the grit to be faithful with the remnants. Cause us to live as those who have been bought with the highest price. As those in whom Christ dwells.

We ask for the freedom that comes only when we realize we own nothing. Kill the love of money in us before it kills the soul. Give us the joy of the proxy—the quiet, steady delight of being Your delivery drivers in a broken world. May we live as those who are not afraid of scarcity, but who are resting in the inexhaustible providence of our King. When the sun sets on our labor, and we stand before Your face, may we be found with empty hands and full hearts, having spent our lives for the only glory that outlasts the world. Amen.

About the Author

Dr. Richard John Perhai serves as Vice President and Academic Dean at Kyiv Theological Seminary, where he has been a professor of Bible and Theology since 2003. He holds a Ph.D. in Systematic Theology (magna cum laude) from Baptist Bible Seminary, a Th.M. in Bible Exposition from Dallas Theological Seminary. He is the author of Antiochene Theōria in the Writings of Theodore of Mopsuestia and Theodoret of Cyrus (Fortress Press, 2015).

Dr. Larry Oats is a longtime Bible professor and former Dean of Maranatha Baptist Seminary (2009-2019) with over 40 years of service at Maranatha Baptist University in Watertown, Wisconsin. A graduate of MBU, he holds a PhD in Systematic Theology and specializes in Fundamentalism and Baptist history.

#66 Wise Investments: How to Invest Money and Grow Wealth God’s Way

Part 1: Biblical Theology of Money – Why We Create Wealth

The Divine Purpose of Growth: Why We Work and Invest

Humans grow things simply because they were built to do so. It’s just … in our DNA. That whole instinct didn’t pop out of some modern market theory or a textbook on economics. No, it was right there from the very start. I mean, God put Adam in a garden and just told him to get to work—to tend it, to actually make something of what he’d been given.

Growth? It was never a “dirty” word in the Bible. Not at all. It only started getting messy and complicated once fear and, well, sin started rotting the soil. That’s where most of us—maybe even you—get all tangled up today. We aren’t sure if growing something is a sign of being faithful or if it’s just plain dangerous. Is it wisdom … or is it just what does the Bible say about greed?

Because of that confusion, people usually end up in one of two extremes. They either chase growth with absolutely no restraint, or they avoid it altogether and try to call that “faith.” But the Bible? It doesn’t do either. It gives us a much more substantial, and honestly, a more real way to look at the whole thing by teaching us how to invest money through Biblical diversification in investing. When we look at Bible verses about money, we see that Is it Biblical to save for the future is answered with a clear “yes,” provided we understand what does the Bible say about saving money versus building generational wealth in the Bible. By looking at Bible verses about debt, we can see how to avoid the traps that keep us from the work we were meant to do.

Stewardship vs Ownership: Understanding the Master’s Gold

The Parable of the Talents in Matthew 25 makes it clear that we are not the owners. From the beginning, Jesus shows us this. A master gives his servants his money and leaves. The servants do not set the rules or question the system. They just receive what they are given and are expected to act. This story is not about self-expression or finding your personal calling. It is about stewardship under authority.

The gold belongs to someone else. The servants are managers, not inventors. And that … well, that’s a sobering frame to live in. Everything currently in your hands—capital, skill, opportunity, timing—it all belongs to God long before it belongs to you. You didn’t create the system you’re operating in; you were just placed into it. And one day there will be an accounting.

Notice that Jesus does not condemn the servants who took risks with the master’s money. He actually commends them. He condemns the one who buried it. Why? Not because he lost it, but because he just refused to engage. He chose “safety” over actual faithfulness. He protected the asset but failed the assignment. That detail matters. The servant wasn’t being reckless. He was cautious. But caution? When it refuses responsibility, it is not praised. This parable removes the fantasy that neutrality is even an option. Doing nothing is a decision. Refusing to grow is actually a form of disobedience when growth was expected. God is not impressed by preservation when He asked for fruit. Now, that doesn’t mean growth at any cost. It just means faithfulness with what you’ve been given—knowing, full well, it was never yours to hide in the dirt.

Financial Struggles: Navigating the Friction of the Fall

If growth were truly simple, we wouldn’t need faith, would we? Genesis 3 shows us why things don’t work the way they’re supposed to. The ground is cursed. Thorns grow. Work brings sweat and a lot of uncertainty. Risk is now part of life, and this matters when we talk about investing, markets, and money.

Scripture doesn’t promise us stability. It promises reality. Markets crash because the world is broken. Businesses fail because, honestly, people are broken. Portfolios take a hit because nothing in this age is safe from decay. That doesn’t mean planning is foolish—not for a second—but it does mean our planning has to be humble. Risk isn’t some modern invention; it’s a direct consequence of the Fall. And Scripture never tells us to try to eliminate it. It tells us to acknowledge it.

I’ve personally sat across from people who genuinely believed faithful Christians should always “win” financially. But when the losses finally hit, they didn’t just lose money. They lost their footing entirely. Their theology simply had no room for thorns. The Bible never makes that mistake, though. Ecclesiastes 11:2 actually tells you to spread your investments out—to diversify—precisely because you have no idea what disaster might be coming next. Proverbs 12:24 praises diligence, sure, but it never offers a guarantee.

Jesus assumes uncertainty as the backdrop for basically every parable He told about money. Faith isn’t about pretending the ground is safer than it actually is. It’s about working that ground anyway, knowing that God is still sovereign over the harvest. Risk doesn’t mean God is absent. It just means we are still living East of Eden.

The True Goal of Kingdom Growth and Multiplication

This is where motives really start to matter. Let’s be honest: investing isn’t about hoarding. Scripture never blesses piling up things just to have more. Growth is really about capacity. Capacity to faithfully steward what has been entrusted to you. When you have more resources, you also have more responsibility. It’s not about comfort; it’s about having greater reach. It means you can handle setbacks without your world falling apart. It gives you the freedom to give generously without panicking. That extra margin lets you respond when a real need appears.

The servants who doubled the master’s money weren’t praised for making the master richer or for increasing the amount. They were praised for becoming someone who could be trusted with more. Their capacity grew. That’s the real biblical logic behind investing. Growth itself isn’t the goal. It’s a tool to help you serve a greater purpose.

So, what does the Bible actually say when you strip everything else away? It says: be faithful, stay wise, keep your heart humble, and for heaven’s sake, remember who the money belongs to in the first place. Scripture never commands you to chase the “highest possible return” at any cost. It tells you to steward what you’ve got with some wisdom and a whole lot of courage. It doesn’t promise you safety (it never has), but it does promise accountability. It never says that “faith” is the same thing as being passive or doing nothing. Quite the opposite. There’s a very specific reason the Bible praises people who actually plan and prepare, while at the same time warning the people who start to worship their own bank accounts. One is about being obedient; the other is just an identity crisis.

When wealth starts to grow, that’s when the questions get a lot sharper, don’t they? You start to wonder: “Is this making me more generous, or am I just getting more guarded?” Are you more available to people, or are you just becoming more anxious about losing what you have? Are you more willing to take a risk for the Kingdom, or are you getting obsessed with protecting this thing you think you built?

See, growth just shows everyone what was already sitting there in your heart. The goal of the harvest? It’s never the barn. It’s the table. It’s about the ability to feed people, to pour resources into good work, and to walk through the lean seasons without being paralyzed by fear. It’s about having the capacity to stay faithful in a world where the needs just keep coming at you. God grows things because He actually intends for them to be used. And He entrusts that growth to people He expects to use it, not people He expects to hide it in the dirt. That is the real theology of the harvest.

—

Part 2: The Idols of the Market

A Heart Check on Our Assets

Money has a sneaky way of showing up where it doesn’t belong. It’s not just about your wallet—it finds its way into your heart, your imagination, and even your sleep. It doesn’t make a big entrance. Instead, it quietly settles in and starts whispering subtle promises.

Most people don’t just wake up one morning and decide they’re going to start worshipping the market. It’s a slow, quiet drift. You start paying a bit too much attention. Then, suddenly, you’re checking the numbers on your screen way more often than you’re actually praying. You start feeling this sense of “peace” only when things are up—and then you’re physically tight and anxious the second they’re down. This is the danger of losing sight of what the Bible verses about money actually warn us about.

Somewhere along that line, money stops being a tool you use and starts acting like a god you serve. That’s exactly why Scripture keeps coming back to it, over and over again. It’s not because money is inherently evil. It’s because it is just so incredibly persuasive. Deceptively persuasive. For it cannot ultimately satisfy. It makes a terrible god because it can’t help you when you need it most. You need heavenly riches instead. Yes, the remedy, as John Piper emphasizes, isn’t asceticism but reorientation. Freedom from money’s grip comes through enjoying God’s presence more than money’s presence. When we truly understand what the Bible says about money, we find the strength to let go of the idols we’ve built.

The Psychology of Wealth: Crossing the Chasm of “Enough”

Look, there is this gap that just never seems to close—no matter how much money is coming in or how perfectly you’ve planned out every single detail. It doesn’t even matter how “responsible” you think you’re being. There is always just one more number that feels a little bit safer than the one you have now. People love to use the word “enough,” but honestly? They rarely know what they actually mean by it. Enough for what, exactly? For how long? For which version of the future?

The real issue isn’t that people want to be wise or prepared. The problem is that fear is a bottomless pit. You can feed it for twenty years, and it’s still going to wake up hungry tomorrow, asking for more.

I’ve personally watched people reach milestones they once only dreamed about—and on the other side of it, they feel absolutely nothing but anxiety. The relief? It just doesn’t stick. The fear just … shifts. It starts asking a different set of questions. What if the market turns? What if inflation just eats all of this up? What if something happens to me? What if this isn’t actually enough after all? That right there is the chasm. And you can’t fill it with numbers.

Scripture understands this much better than we usually like to admit. Jesus talked about people who piled up treasure but still lost their souls—and it wasn’t because they were being reckless or careless. It was simply because they were never able to stop. There was always another barn to build. Another “cushion” to add to the pile. See, the market can’t tell you when it’s time to rest. It doesn’t know how. It’s always going to offer you one more reason to stay awake at night. If your peace depends on finally hitting a specific number, I’m telling you—that peace is always going to stay just out of reach. Because money can’t satisfy. It allures but never satisfies. When you hit that magical “it’s enough” number, it changes. Again and again. When asked, “How much does it take to be satisfied?” even the richest people have answered, “Just one more dollar.”

Faith vs. Independence: Debunking the Myth of Self-Sufficiency

Wealth doesn’t usually make people loud or arrogant in a way everyone can see. It’s much sneakier than that. It just makes them independent—quietly. This is the big warning in Deuteronomy 8. God actually told Israel ahead of time exactly what would happen once things started going well. Full stomachs. Secure houses. Productive land. Everything looks perfect. And then? The danger.

The warning says, “You may say in your heart, ‘My power and the strength of my hands have gotten me this wealth.’” Notice where that thought actually lives. It’s not in some big public speech; it just sits there, in the heart. Self-sufficiency rarely sounds defiant, does it? It sounds reasonable. It sounds responsible and calm. You just stop praying the way you used to because, well, things are covered. You stop asking God for “daily bread” because you’ve got plenty in storage. You still believe in Him, sure. You just don’t actually feel dependent anymore.

That is the shift Scripture is trying to warn us about. Let’s be real: dependence feels uncomfortable. It always has. That’s exactly why money is so tempting. It offers us a way to feel secure without having to ask anyone for help. And that includes God.

I’ve personally sat with people who didn’t even realize how far this had gone until something finally shook their sense of control. Maybe a market downturn, a health scare, or some sudden loss. What came out in those moments wasn’t just raw fear; it was total surprise. They had slowly, almost accidentally, started living as if God were optional.

Deuteronomy 8 isn’t condemning wealth. It’s condemning forgetting. It’s about forgetting who brought you here in the first place. Forgetting who sustained you when you had absolutely nothing. Forgetting that every single good thing was received before it was ever managed. Wealth doesn’t actually eliminate your dependence. It just disguises it. And when that disguise is convincing enough, the heart begins to trust what it can see rather than the God it cannot. So, watch yourself, for what do you have that you did not receive?

Avoiding Financial Ruin: The Biblical Warning Against Get-Rich-Quick

If self-sufficiency is the quiet idol in the background, then haste is the one that demands your attention. The Bible warns us about the danger of rushing to get rich, not because moving fast is always wrong, but because it often reveals what’s happening inside us. When someone is desperate to become wealthy right away, it’s usually because they want to escape something—like fear, shame, comparison, or feeling left behind. Proverbs makes this clear. It doesn’t praise wealth gained quickly; instead, it says that kind of wealth fades away and brings trouble. And haste isn’t always just about speed. It can also be about illegal means. Get-rich-quick schemes are tempting because they promise relief without real growth. They offer results without the process, and control without patience. That combination is risky not only for your bank account but also for your soul.

Every generation asks the same thing: “Is it different this time? Is this the shortcut we’ve been waiting for?” The answer is almost always no. I also hear people ask if investing in the stock market is just “Christian gambling.” The Bible doesn’t use today’s financial terms, but it does give us some basic principles. Gambling is about chance and avoiding responsibility, hoping luck will save you. Investing, when done well, means taking part in real work, real value, and real growth over time. But here’s the truth: the same action can be faithful or not, depending on your motives. If you invest because of greed, impatience, or a need for control, it doesn’t matter how good your portfolio looks. The idol is still there. But if you invest with wisdom, patience, and a real desire to use your resources well, it’s something very different.

The thing is—Scripture never actually settles for just looking at what you’re doing. Not even close. It’s obsessed—and I mean really obsessed—with the why behind it all. And haste? Honestly, most of the time, haste is just a heart that is completely, totally exhausted from trying to wait on God. It’s this frantic need for relief. Right now. Security? Now. Status? Now. And when those kinds of “grabby” desires get into the driver’s seat—well, actual discernment basically gets kicked out of the car. Look, let’s be fair for a second—the market is actually pretty decent at a few things. It moves capital, rewards productivity, and reflects what’s happening in the real world. But it is—and I can’t stress this enough—completely incapable of doing the spiritual heavy lifting we try to shove onto it. It can’t give you peace. It won’t give you an identity. It’s never going to tell you when you finally have “enough” (mostly because the market doesn’t even know what that word means). And it sure as rain can’t carry the weight of your future. When we try to force it to do those things … well, it stops being a tool and starts acting like a pathetic little god. An idol.

That’s exactly why the Bible keeps dragging us back to the same posture, over and over again. Gratitude. Dependence. Patience. Being generous. I don’t think we should see these as “moral gold stars” to collect. They’re actually safeguards for your own sanity. Let’s be real here: money makes for a truly garbage god. It’s demanding, it’s completely unpredictable, and it doesn’t care one single bit about your soul. God, though? He’s not threatened by a market crash. He doesn’t start panicking when the numbers on the screen turn red. He doesn’t need you to “fix your life” or secure your bank account before He can be trusted. Let’s do a “heart check” on your assets. It’s not about fear. It’s about being honest with yourself—like, really honest—before the market forces that honesty on you.

You’ve got to ask the gut-punch questions: “What am I actually leaning on right now? What am I deathly afraid of losing?” I mean, really, what would happen if God took one of those things away? Would your relationship with Him just crumble into the dirt, or would it finally be revealed as something … real? Look, these aren’t “one-and-done” questions. They come back. Every single season. Because idols don’t just stay dead. They hide in the quiet corners and wait for you to get stressed out. The goal isn’t to run away from the market. It’s to walk through it while you’re actually awake. To invest without building an altar to the numbers. To grow without having white knuckles from clinging to the results. It’s about holding everything with open hands instead of a clenched fist. And that doesn’t come naturally to any of us. It has to be learned. Slowly. Often with a few “hard lessons” that really sting. But I’m telling you, it’s worth the work. Because the market will try to take your heart if you let it. And Scripture is pretty clear about one thing: Only God actually deserves it.

—

Part 3: Investing Wisely – Biblical Principles for Financial Wisdom

Practical Principles

Wisdom sounds quieter than ambition. It doesn’t rush. It doesn’t brag. It rarely announces itself. Most of the time, it looks boring from the outside. And that’s part of the problem. People don’t usually ignore wisdom because they hate it. They ignore it because it feels slow. Scripture never treats wisdom as optional, especially when money is involved. Not because money is special, but because it exposes impatience quickly.

What you do with resources tends to reveal what you believe about time, control, and God. This is why Christian financial advice often focuses more on the heart than the spreadsheet. Proverbs doesn’t give formulas. It gives posture. It teaches you how to stand in a world where outcomes are uncertain and temptation is loud. By following Biblical principles of finance, we learn that true security isn’t found in the hoard, but in the character of the Provider. This perspective allows us to focus on investing in things that outlast the world rather than chasing the quick, loud gains of ambition. Understanding what the Bible says about saving money through the lens of wisdom helps us move from a place of fear to a place of steady, quiet faithfulness.

Diversification and Diligence

“Give a portion to seven, or even to eight.” That line from Ecclesiastes 11 has been quoted for centuries because it rings true in real life. You don’t know what disaster may come. You don’t know which effort will fail and which will hold. So you don’t stake everything on one outcome and call that faith. Diversification isn’t cowardice. It’s wisdom. The Bible never praises recklessness. It also never praises paralysis. Diversification sits in the middle. It says, “I will work, but I will not pretend I can see the future.” It acknowledges limits without surrendering responsibility.

Putting all your eggs in one basket is tempting because it feels decisive. It feels confident. It gives the illusion of control. But Scripture keeps reminding us that we don’t control outcomes, only obedience. Diligence means you show up. You plan. You think. You spread risk rather than deny it. Diversification is not fear dressed up as strategy. It’s humility practiced over time. I’ve seen people spiritualize concentration. “I really believe in this one thing.” Sometimes that’s conviction. Other times, it’s stubbornness with a Bible verse taped on top. Wisdom asks harder questions. What happens if this fails? Who pays the price? Can I absorb loss without becoming bitter or desperate? Ecclesiastes assumes uncertainty. It doesn’t apologize for it. It doesn’t promise protection from it. It teaches you how to live sanely inside it. That’s wisdom.

Long-Term Investing: The Wisdom of Patience and Vision

Patience doesn’t feel spiritual when numbers are involved. It feels inefficient. It feels like you’re falling behind. It feels like everyone else is moving faster. Scripture doesn’t redefine patience to make it more exciting. It keeps it plain. Patience is waiting without losing your footing. It’s staying steady when nothing dramatic is happening. The fruit of the Spirit applies to more than relationships. It applies to how you handle time. And money has a way of testing that quickly.

Most poor decisions aren’t made because people lack information. They’re made because people can’t wait. They want relief. They want certainty. They want progress they can see now. Proverbs speaks often about haste, and never kindly. Haste cuts corners. Haste ignores warnings. Haste trades tomorrow for today and calls it an opportunity. The long view doesn’t mean doing nothing. It means understanding that growth takes time and that forcing it often breaks things you didn’t intend to break. It means accepting that boredom is sometimes part of faithfulness. I’ve watched patient people be called foolish right up until the moment their steadiness paid off. I’ve also watched impatient people look brilliant for a season and then disappear quietly when things collapsed. The long view understands that God is not in a hurry. That His timing is not anxious. That waiting is not wasted time when it is done in trust.

Biblical Ethics in Investing

This is where things get uncomfortable, because wisdom doesn’t stop at returns. It asks where the returns come from. Scripture never separates money from morality. That’s a modern habit. The Bible assumes that profit is never neutral. It always comes from somewhere. From someone’s labor. From someone’s loss. From someone’s need. From someone’s weakness. Shouldn’t we care about these issues?

I knew a Christian missionary who lent money to people investing in the stock market. His own money was secured by legal documents and the borrower’s collateral. But suggesting that his investment practices had questionable morals didn’t persuade him.

All this raises a hard question. What am I benefiting from? Choosing faith-based investments isn’t about finding something labeled “Christian” and assuming it’s clean. It’s about paying attention. It’s about refusing to profit from things that clearly grieve God, even if they perform well. This doesn’t mean every decision is simple. We live in a tangled economy. Lines aren’t always clean. But difficulty is not an excuse for apathy.

Scripture consistently calls God’s people to care about how wealth is generated, not just how it’s used later. You don’t get to bless God with profits that required you to ignore your conscience along the way and call that faithfulness. I’ve heard people say, “I’ll use the money for good.” Sometimes that’s true. Sometimes it’s a way to silence questions they don’t want to sit with. Wisdom slows you down long enough to ask those questions anyway. What am I supporting? Who is being harmed? Would I still feel at peace if I knew the whole story? Am I excusing something because it’s profitable? Faith-based investing isn’t about moral perfection. It’s about integrity. About refusing to separate your faith from your finances as if God only cares about one side of your life.

The vocabulary of wisdom is not flashy. Diversification. Patience. Ethics. None of those make headlines. They don’t promise fast results. They don’t feed the ego. But they do something else. They keep you grounded. They help you make decisions you can live with later. Decisions that don’t require constant justification. Decisions that don’t hollow you out over time. Wisdom accepts limits. It respects time. It cares about people. It understands that faithfulness often looks small in the moment and significant only in hindsight.

Proverbs never promises that wisdom will make you rich. It promises to keep you from ruining yourself. And wisdom is a gift many people don’t realize they need until it’s too late. Money will always offer shortcuts. The market will often reward speed. But wisdom keeps asking a different question. Not just “Will this work?” but “Who will I become if I keep doing this?” That question doesn’t have a numerical answer. But it’s the one that Scripture keeps placing in front of us. And it’s worth answering carefully.

—

Part 4: Managing the Increase

The Steward’s Guide to Wealth and Resource Management

There’s a moment that comes when things start to grow. Not just a little. Enough that you notice. Enough that decisions start to matter more. More money moving. More options. More voices telling you what you should do next. That’s usually when people get uneasy. Not because increase is bad, but because increase exposes things. It exposes what you trust. It exposes what you’re afraid of.

It exposes whether you see yourself as a steward or an owner who finally has some breathing room. Managing the increase is not about getting clever. It’s about staying grounded when there’s more at stake. This is precisely where we must ask, what does the Bible say about saving money, so that we don’t accidentally slip into a mindset of self-reliance. When the numbers go up, the temptation toward what does the Bible say about greed often grows alongside them.

True stewardship means recognizing that the increase is a tool for investing with an eternal perspective. It’s not just about comfort; it’s about financial freedom through stewardship that allows us to bless others and build generational wealth in the Bible without losing our souls to the process. Staying grounded requires trusting God with your retirement savings and every other asset, remembering that God’s sovereignty over the economy is the only thing that remains steady when the stakes are high.

Giving Back First: The Power of First Fruits in Finance

Scripture puts giving first for a reason. Not because God needs money. He doesn’t. And not because generosity is a technique to get more later. It isn’t. Giving comes first because it tells the truth. Before you invest. Before you plan. Before you grow anything. Giving answers one simple question. Who does this belong to? First fruits giving is not about leftovers. It’s about priority. It’s about acknowledging, in a very practical way, that what’s in your hands did not start with you and does not end with you. You give first because it keeps the order straight.

If you can’t give, you shouldn’t invest. Not because investing is sinful, but because investing without generosity hardens the heart. It trains you to grow capacity without releasing control. That combination rarely ends well, for stewards always must give an account to the Owner. I’ve watched people become very skilled at growing wealth while becoming very poor at trusting God. Giving, when it’s done honestly, interrupts that drift. It forces you to loosen your grip before the numbers get bigger and the excuses get stronger. Giving doesn’t make you irresponsible. It makes you honest. It says, “This increase didn’t save me. And it won’t. It can’t.” When giving comes first, investing stays in its place. It remains a tool. Not a savior. Not a source of identity. Just a way to steward what God has already entrusted to you.

Debt and Leverage

This is where things get gritty. Debt isn’t abstract. It’s relational. It puts claims on your future before you get there. It limits options. It narrows the margin. And over time, it quietly shapes decisions in ways people don’t always notice. Scripture doesn’t treat debt lightly. Not because borrowing is always sinful, but because bondage is always dangerous. “The borrower is servant to the lender” isn’t poetry. It’s an observation. Debt limits freedom. And freedom matters if you want to serve God without constantly asking permission from your obligations.

I’ve sat with people who wanted to give, wanted to help, wanted to respond to needs, but couldn’t. Not because they were stingy, but because they were buried. Payments spoke louder than convictions. Leverage had already decided what was possible. Breaking free from debt is rarely dramatic. It’s slow. It’s humbling. It requires saying no to things you could technically afford. It requires patience in a culture that rewards speed. And it requires admitting that some growth was built on pressure instead of margin. Debt promises acceleration. What it usually delivers is anxiety. That doesn’t mean every form of leverage is evil. But it does mean you should ask what debt is costing you beyond interest. Is it stealing sleep? Is it shrinking generosity? Is it locking you into choices you’d rather not make? Stewardship asks those questions before the numbers get bigger. Freedom creates room. Room to give. Room to pivot. Room to respond when God nudges you toward something unexpected. Debt, when it piles up, takes that room away.

Emergency Funds and Risk Management: Planning for Rain

Scripture is not opposed to saving. It’s opposed to trusting savings the way we should trust God. There’s a difference. Planning for rain is not pessimism. It’s realism. Things break. Jobs change. Health falters. Emergencies don’t ask permission. The Bible never calls preparedness a lack of faith. Joseph stored grain. Proverbs praises the ant. Jesus assumes people count the cost before they build. An emergency fund is not a declaration that God won’t provide. It’s a way of acknowledging that provision often comes through wisdom exercised ahead of time. The problem comes when savings turn into insulation. When reserves stop being a buffer and start becoming a wall between you and dependence on God.

How much is enough for the emergency fund? Some financial advisors recommend three months of expenses, others six. The correct amount may be more difficult to quantify. But this advice may help.

A Christian emergency fund should do two things at the same time. It should provide stability when things go wrong. And it should still leave your heart soft. That means you save without panic. You plan without obsession. You prepare without pretending you’ve covered every possible outcome. Savings are meant to serve you, not silence prayer. I’ve seen people who saved faithfully and responded to emergencies calmly, generously, and without fear. I’ve also seen people who saved obsessively and still lived anxious, guarded lives. The difference was never the size of the fund. It was where trust was placed. Planning for rain is wise. Believing you’ve eliminated storms is not.

Managing increase is not about mastering a system. It’s about guarding a posture. As things grow, temptations grow with them. To rely on yourself. To tighten control. To measure security by numbers instead of faithfulness. None of that happens all at once. It happens gradually. That’s why Scripture keeps calling people back to simple practices. Give first. Avoid bondage. Plan honestly. Keep trusting God. These aren’t advanced strategies. They’re safeguards. They’re life itself.

Increase doesn’t automatically make you a better steward. It just gives you more opportunities to be one—or not. The goal is not to grow faster. It’s to grow without losing your footing. To manage more without worshiping it more. To stay responsive to God when life gets louder and choices get heavier. Managing the increase well doesn’t make headlines. But it creates something far more valuable. It creates freedom. Freedom to give without fear. Freedom to serve without hesitation. Freedom to trust God when the numbers change. That’s the hands-on work of a steward. And it matters more the longer the harvest lasts.

—

Part 5: The Wealth That Outlasts the World

Investing in Eternity

People talk about wealth as if it’s solid. As if it lasts. As if it’s something you can finally and securely lean on once you’ve built enough of it. But Scripture keeps interrupting that idea. Not angrily. Just honestly. Everything here wears out. Moth and rust destroy. Systems change. Currencies shift. Accounts rise and fall. Even the things that feel stable now won’t stay that way forever. The Bible never asks us to pretend otherwise. It asks us to decide what we’re really investing in.

Eternity isn’t an escape from this world. It’s the lens Scripture uses to tell the truth about it. When we are investing in things that outlast the world, we are acknowledging that the only true security is found beyond the material. This shift in focus is at the heart of investing with an eternal perspective. It changes how we view every dollar, moving us away from the fear of loss and toward the joy of financial freedom through stewardship. Instead of grasping for what is temporary, we find ourselves finding peace in financial uncertainty because we know who holds the future.

By prioritizing Biblical principles of finance, we stop leaning on the shifting sands of the market and start building on something far more substantial. Ultimately, it is about trusting God with your retirement savings and your daily needs alike, resting in the reality of God’s sovereignty over the economy.

The Bag That Doesn’t Grow Old

Jesus says something strange in Luke 12. He tells His followers to sell their possessions and give to the needy. Then, He explains why. “Provide yourselves with moneybags that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail.” That line tends to make people nervous. It sounds reckless. Irresponsible. Like Jesus is asking people to abandon provision altogether. But if you read closely, that’s not what He’s doing. Jesus isn’t condemning provision. He’s confronting false security. The issue is not owning possessions. It’s trusting them. It’s believing they can protect you from loss, from fear, from the future. Jesus is trying to loosen that grip.

Selling and giving are not commands meant to empty everyone’s accounts. They are practices meant to expose where confidence really lives. Where your treasure dwells. When you give generously, especially in ways that cost you, you’re saying something out loud with your life. You’re saying, “My future is not locked inside what I own.” That’s the bag that doesn’t grow old. Not an account you can track, but a posture you live with. Open hands. Loose grip. Willingness to part with what you could keep. Not because you have life all mapped out. But because God has your back. It’s His good pleasure to give you His kingdom.

This doesn’t mean neglecting your family. Scripture never praises irresponsibility. Providing is part of faithfulness. But Jesus is clear about the order. Provision is not the same thing as preservation. You can provide wisely without building a fortress around yourself. The bag that doesn’t wear out grows every time you choose generosity over hoarding. Every time you meet a real need instead of feeding fear. Every time you act like God is still the one carrying you.

The Reward of Faithfulness

The world measures success by outcomes: bigger numbers, faster growth, public recognition. Scripture measures it differently. “Well done, good and faithful servant.” That’s the return Scripture keeps pointing us toward. Not applause. Not comparison. Approval from the Master who entrusted the resources in the first place. Faithfulness is quieter than success. It doesn’t always show up in charts or headlines. Sometimes it looks like a long, steady obedience in the same direction. Sometimes it looks like restraint when you could have pushed harder. Sometimes it looks like giving that never gets noticed.

The servant in Jesus’ parable wasn’t praised for being brilliant. He was praised for being faithful. For doing what was asked with what he was given. That changes how you think about return on investment. The true return isn’t just what comes back to you here. It’s whether your life aligns with the purposes of God. Whether your choices reflected trust instead of fear. Whether you managed what you were given with integrity. I’ve known people who made wise decisions, grew steadily, and lived generously, yet were never impressive by the world’s standards. And I’ve known people who looked wildly successful for a season and quietly collapsed under the weight of that success. Only one of those lives ends with peace. The reward of faithfulness is not always visible now. The discipline it requires may be painful in the short term. That’s part of what makes it faithfulness. You keep going without needing constant confirmation. You trust that God sees what others don’t. And one day, you won’t need to justify anything. You won’t need to explain your choices. The Master will know. And you will reap the peaceful fruit of righteousness.

Financial Peace: Finding Rest in God as Your Provider

Most money anxiety isn’t about money. It’s about identity. People worry because they don’t know who they are without the numbers. Without the buffer. Without the sense of control. When finances feel shaky, it doesn’t just threaten comfort. It threatens self-understanding. Scripture keeps pulling us back to a different center. You are not what you own. You are not what you’ve accumulated. You are not what you can secure for yourself. You are a child. God’s child. Adoption changes everything. The Spirit of God allows us to cry out, “Abba!” Children don’t pretend there’s no danger. But they also don’t carry the full weight of provision. That belongs to the Father.

Resting in the Provider doesn’t mean ignoring bills or responsibilities. It means refusing to let them define you. It means doing your work honestly and then sleeping at night because you believe God is still at work when you’re not. “How do I stop worrying about money as a Christian?” That question comes up often. And the answer is rarely a trick or a formula. It’s a shift in ground. Worry fades when identity settles. When you know who you belong to, money loses some of its power. It still matters. It just doesn’t get to speak first. Or loudest. I’ve watched people with modest means live calmly because they trusted God deeply. I’ve watched people with abundance live in constant tension because they believed it was all on them. The difference was never the intelligence. It was where they located their safety. Rest is not something you achieve once. It’s something you return to. Again and again. Especially when the market moves. Especially when plans change. Especially when the future feels unclear. Resting in the Provider is choosing to believe, over and over, that God knows what you need and is not late.

At the end of the day, the question is simple. What will still matter when everything else fades? Accounts will close. Titles will be forgotten. Assets will move on to someone else. Scripture never treats that as tragic. It treats it as normal. What lasts is faithfulness. Generosity. Trust. The quiet obedience no one saw. The open-handed choices that didn’t make sense on paper. The steady belief that God was enough. That’s the wealth that outlasts the world. It doesn’t inflate. It doesn’t crash. It doesn’t wear out. And it’s available to anyone willing to invest there.

—

Conclusion: The Open Hand

I once sat with a man who had lost almost everything. Not overnight, but fast enough that it felt like the ground gave way beneath him. A business that had taken decades to build unraveled in a few hard months. Decisions that once looked solid stopped working. Markets shifted. Debt tightened. And the numbers that had always made him feel steady suddenly meant nothing. He didn’t come to talk about strategy. He came because he didn’t know who he was anymore. For years, his sense of self had been tied to competence. To providing. To being the one who had answers. When that collapsed, it felt like something deeper collapsed with it. He told me, quietly, that losing the money hurt less than losing the feeling that he mattered.

We talked for a long time. About fear. About shame. About the strange silence that comes when the things you trusted stop speaking back to you. And somewhere in that conversation, he said something I’ve never forgotten. He said, “I think this might be the first time my hands are actually open.” He didn’t mean generous. He meant empty. And for the first time in years, he was honest before God. Not impressive. Not confident. Just present. He prayed without performing. He asked for help without qualifying it. He trusted God not because things were working, but because there was nothing left to lean on. That loss didn’t save him. God did. But the loss stripped away what had been pretending to save him. That’s the open hand.

The Results of Faithfulness

Scripture never tells us to despise wealth. It tells us not to clutch it. It reminds us, again and again, that everything in our hands is temporary. That both wealth and poverty will fade away. That you can’t take it with you. Not the accounts. Not the titles. Not the security you worked so hard to build. But that doesn’t mean nothing carries forward. You can’t take money with you. But you can send the results of faithfulness ahead. You can send generosity. You can send obedience. You can send trust. You can send the quiet choices no one applauded, but God saw. Those things don’t disappear. They don’t evaporate when life ends. They’re gathered. Remembered. Counted differently. Those things don’t save you. They are the fruit of a relationship with the Father.

An open hand doesn’t mean careless living. It means honest living. It means working hard without worshiping the work. Planning carefully without pretending you control outcomes. Providing faithfully without believing it all depends on you. It means knowing when to give. When to wait. When to let go. Stewardship was never about proving yourself. It was about trusting God with what passed through your hands for a while. And one day, all of it passes. That’s not a threat. It’s a relief. You don’t have to carry it forever.

A Call to Freedom

Wherever you are right now, take a moment. Look at your hands. What are you holding too tightly? What are you afraid to release? What have you been asking money to do that only God can? This guide isn’t calling you to fear loss. It’s calling you to freedom. The kind that comes when you stop asking temporary things to give eternal security.

A Closing Prayer

God, You see the work of our hands. You know what we’re building and what we’re afraid of losing. Teach us to hold what You give with humility and courage. Help us work faithfully without trusting in the work. Help us provide without panic. Help us give without fear. Bless our labor. Guard our families. Give us wisdom in decisions and peace in uncertainty. Keep our hands open and our hearts steady. And when all accounts are settled, and all work is done, may we stand before You with joy, knowing that we trusted You more than what passed through our hands. Amen.

About the Author

Dr. Richard John Perhai serves as Vice President and Academic Dean at Kyiv Theological Seminary, where he has been a professor of Bible and Theology since 2003. He holds a Ph.D. in Systematic Theology (magna cum laude) from Baptist Bible Seminary, a Th.M. in Bible Exposition from Dallas Theological Seminary. He is the author of Antiochene Theōria in the Writings of Theodore of Mopsuestia and Theodoret of Cyrus (Fortress Press, 2015).

Dr. Larry Oats is a longtime Bible professor and former Dean of Maranatha Baptist Seminary (2009-2019) with over 40 years of service at Maranatha Baptist University in Watertown, Wisconsin. A graduate of MBU, he holds a PhD in Systematic Theology and specializes in Fundamentalism and Baptist history.

#64 Leaving a Legacy Through Your Daily Actions: Planning Today for Tomorrow’s Impact

Part 1: The Stewardship of a Life

Biblical Stewardship: Understanding We Are Tenants, Not Owners

There is a moment in life when the illusion finally cracks. Sometimes the moment happens in a hospital hallway. Sometimes the moment happens at a funeral. It happened to me when I stood in a room after the kids have grown and moved on. I looked around at the things I worked hard to build, protect, and maintain. I realized how few of those things were actually under my control. The control is not there in the end. The control was never really there. Scripture doesn’t let people pretend that the illusion is real for long.

The Landowner’s Trust

When I read Psalm 24, I see that it gets straight to the point. It says clearly: The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it—the world and everyone who lives in it. Not just most things. Not only spiritual things. Everything. That means the land, resources, and nations. Psalm 24 also speaks to the private parts of our lives we hold close, like our time, children, opportunities, health, and influence. As you read this, notice your breath. That breath does not begin with you, and it does not end with you.

That truth sounds simple until it presses against the way we actually live. We talk like owners. We plan like owners. We protect like owners. We say my kids, my money, my future, my retirement. Scripture doesn’t scold us for using that language, but it does quietly correct our underlying assumptions regarding stewardship vs ownership. We are tenants. Every good thing placed in our hands has come with a trust attached to it. Not ownership papers. A responsibility. A calling to care for what belongs to Another. That changes the posture of one’s life. It turns accumulation into stewardship. It turns anxiety into accountability. It turns generosity from an optional virtue into a natural outcome of faith.

The Misunderstood Assignment

In more living rooms than I can count, during late evenings with cold coffee and closed spreadsheets, I’ve seen realization slowly appear on someone’s face. It’s not scandal or humiliation, but a quiet kind of grief. A father sees his son living out a dream that isn’t really his. A mother realizes that her encouragement has slowly become pressure. There are no raised voices, just the heavy feeling that somewhere along the way, the assignment was misunderstood.

Thirty-year careers. Factory shifts. The same boots worn thin at the heel. I’ve known men who built strong companies and believed their work was meant for them. Only later, when life slowed down and the applause faded, did a harder question appear: Was I ever really in charge, or did I just assume I was the owner?

Most people don’t notice, but the pain isn’t from failing. It comes from being out of alignment. God gives responsibility on purpose. He isn’t careless with influence. Children, resources, skills, and opportunities aren’t given by chance. They are assignments. And with assignments comes responsibility—not panic, but accountability.

When we misunderstand the assignment, everything feels heavier than it needs to be.

The Thorns in the Field

Look at Genesis 3. It’s interesting because the Scripture doesn’t actually curse the work itself—it curses the ease. Thorns. That relentless resistance. It’s like the ground is physically pushing back against you. And honestly? That is the one specific detail that most people just … well, they just gloss right over, even in Bible verses about money.

Sweat. That’s when it finally entered the equation.

You see this same kind of friction in the markets today. Those revenue lines that won’t stay straight—they wobble up and down. Forecasts that just slip through your fingers. You know that one deal? The one you thought looked absolutely airtight, but watched it completely unravel by week three. Planning starts to feel like you’re pushing against something that flat-out refuses to be controlled. The ground fights back. It just does.

And that friction? It does something to the human heart. It doesn’t just wear you out—it actually starts to rewire the way you function, often disrupting our living with an eternal perspective.

Here’s the thing: the second those outcomes stop cooperating, the instinct to tighten our grip just takes over. Store more. Protect more. We tell ourselves we’re just delaying generosity until “conditions stabilize.” It sounds disciplined, doesn’t it? It even sounds prudent.

But truth be told? Sometimes it’s just fear. Just fear with a tie on.

Cain grasped. Pharaoh had undisputable power and resources while he kept tightening those chains. Even that rich fool in Luke 12—he built bigger barns and labeled it “strategic foresight.” Scripture doesn’t actually sneer at planning. Not at all. What it does is expose the raw anxiety we try so hard to dress up as long-term thinking.

“I’m just being responsible.”
“I’m thinking about the future.”
“You never know what could happen.”

Sometimes, that really is wise. But at other times, it’s just a cover—something we’ve made from the latest economic news.

Sin has been drilling this same tired lesson into us for centuries: accumulation equals safety. Generosity? That equals exposure.

The math sounds incredibly convincing—at least until you actually start examining the source code.

The Root of Self-Protection

Look at those thorns in the field. They don’t just make the work harder. There’s more to it. They make us defensive. They suggest that scarcity is all there is, and that being generous is just naïve. Once we believe that, stewardship falls apart and becomes nothing more than self-protection.

Genesis never presents this as some minor character flaw, either. Not at all. It presents it as the direct fallout from rebellion. It’s a simple, brutal trade: when trust in God breaks, trust in “stuff,” in possessions, rises up to take its place.

That is exactly why these conversations we have about money, or legacy in the Bible, or inheritance are never just financial. They are deeply theological. At the end of the day, they reveal the one thing we try to hide: where a person actually believes their safety comes from. Understanding Biblical principles of money management isn’t about numbers; it’s about whether we are building a fortress or a bridge.

The Good Manager

Jesus rarely talked about ownership. Not really. What He actually talked about was management. Faithful servants. Stewards. Watchful workers. He was always describing people who were entrusted with resources that didn’t actually belong to them—but resources they would, one day, have to give an account for. It’s a shift. Subtle, sure, but absolutely decisive. It moves the needle from “What can I keep?” to “What has been placed in my care?” And honestly? That one question changes everything.

Now, a good manager doesn’t ignore the future. Of course not. He prepares for it. But here is the difference: he prepares with open hands, not those clenched fists we’re so used to. He plans, but he does it without that exhausted pretense of being in control. He saves, but he never loses sight of the purpose behind the saving.

He understands something fundamental—that provision is meant to flow through him, not just terminate with him. It’s not a dead end. And that is exactly where the whole question of inheritance naturally comes up. It’s not some clever strategy for maintaining control from beyond the grave. Not at all. It’s simply an extension of stewardship—one that finally outlives the steward.

Inheritance and Influence

Scripture talks about inheritance, and it does so without any embarrassment. It does not shame anyone for providing for future generations. In fact, while it often warns us not to put our trust in wealth, it also affirms the value of thoughtful preparation. If you feel a tension between these ideas, that is intentional. God cares not only about what is left behind, but also about the heart—the real, honest heart—that shapes the act of giving in the first place.

I have seen this happen. I have sat with families who were torn apart because inheritance was used as leverage. Imagine that for a moment: conditional love written into legal documents. It is a form of control that tries to extend beyond a person’s life. That is not stewardship. It is simply a long-lasting fear.

On the other hand, I have also met families who became stronger through the process. This happened because generosity was quietly shown for many years. It was not perfect or always extravagant, but it was consistent. These children learned early that money is a tool, not something to be worshipped. Tools are used. God and people are loved. They saw that provision was real, but they understood that God was even more real.

Alignment and Rest

Think about it this way. A manager—a real, faithful one—doesn’t wait until the very end to start asking the heavy questions. And honestly? It isn’t even about chasing some kind of moral perfection. Not at all. It’s just about … faithfulness. Plain and simple. You have to look at what’s in your hands right now and ask: “Is the way I’m using this actually echoing the heart of the One who gave it to me in the first place?” And here’s the kicker—the one we often avoid: “Am I training the next generation to put their trust in God … or am I just setting them up to trust the pile of stuff I’m leaving behind?”

Those questions? They aren’t there to throw stones or make you feel guilty. Not even close. They’re just an invitation to get some clarity. Because stewardship, if we’re being really honest here, is less about guilt and much more about alignment. It’s about living in a way today that actually makes sense when you look back on it ten, twenty years later. It’s about realizing that, eventually, the keys have to get handed back. And when that moment finally comes, the faithful tenant doesn’t need to panic. He can just … rest. He rests because he knows, deep down, that the land was never his to defend anyway. It was only ever his to tend.

—

Part 2: The Idols We Build

Overcoming Idols in Financial Legacy Planning

There’s something deep inside us that just doesn’t want to disappear. We know life is short. We know the facts. We go to funerals. We say all the right things. But even so, deep down, we resist the idea that our time is limited. We struggle with the thought that the world will simply keep going without us.

So, we build. We save money. We start businesses. We work on our reputations and create things meant to last longer than we do. None of this is wrong by itself. Scripture doesn’t condemn work or planning. But it does warn us about what happens when good things start to carry the kind of importance only God should have. That’s when they become idols. These aren’t obvious idols, either. They look respectable. They seem wise and responsible. They’re the kind of idols you can easily justify if someone asks.

When we look for Bible verses about legacy, we find that a meaningful life isn’t built on what we hoard, but on passing on faith. It is easy to confuse Christian life goals with simple accumulation, but the “respectable” idols of safety and status often hide the truth: that our desire for permanence is actually a hunger for the eternal.

The Myth of Financial Security: Trusting God Over Wealth

Jesus tells a story in Luke 12 about a man who had what most would call a “good problem.” His land produced way more than he expected. His barns? They were overflowing. Now, he wasn’t stealing. He wasn’t cheating anyone. By almost any standard, he wasn’t doing anything illegal or even immoral. He just … well, he didn’t know when to stop.

And then he talks to himself. That detail? It matters. He never once talks to God. He never stops to ask what all this abundance is actually for. He only has one question: “What shall I do, for I have nowhere to store my crops?” And he answers it exactly the way most of us probably would. Bigger barns. More storage. More control. Then he says the quiet part out loud: “Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.” He honestly thought he had secured his soul.

But God calls him a fool. Not because he made a plan—but because he trusted the plan. He believed that enough grain in a barn could protect his very life. He thought abundance could buy peace. And that belief? It’s still everywhere. People don’t usually say it out loud, but they live like it’s the absolute truth. If I can just get far enough ahead. If I can just save enough. If I can just eliminate the risk. Then—and only then—I’ll rest.

But rest never actually comes that way. The target just … moves. Security always demands more. I’ve sat with people who had far more than they could ever need and still lived in constant anxiety. And I’ve sat with people who had very little—and they slept peacefully. The difference was never about the numbers. It was about what or who they trusted to hold their future. Jesus isn’t saying planning is foolish. He’s saying that trusting in the abundance you’ve stored is. Bigger barns don’t actually remove fear. They just teach fear where to live.

The Trap of “Self-Made” Success

If fear is what builds the idol of security, then pride is what builds the idol of “self-made” success. “I earned this.” It sounds reasonable, doesn’t it? It sounds fair. Responsible, even. After all, Scripture honors hard work. It never praises laziness. So, what’s the issue?

The problem isn’t the effort. It’s forgetting where every single piece of that effort actually came from. This idea of “self-made” success assumes a closed system. My intelligence. My discipline. My risk. But Scripture never lets that story stand on its own. Every part of that system was received before it was ever exercised. You didn’t give yourself your own mind. You didn’t pick your opportunities. You didn’t control the time or place of your birth. You certainly didn’t prevent all the disasters that didn’t happen to you. You didn’t even sustain your own health year after year.

Grace isn’t just something that saves sinners. It’s the very thing that holds everything together. I’ve watched people start with genuine gratitude, and then, slowly, drift into entitlement. It’s not sudden. It’s quiet. Over time, God moves from being the Provider to just being a background assumption. Thankfulness stays in the vocabulary, sure, but the dependence? That disappears from the heart.

And once success becomes the proof of your worth, generosity starts to feel … threatening. Giving feels like you’re losing ground. Sharing feels like self-erasure. Comparison creeps in, and judgment is usually right behind it. Scripture cuts through all of that with one blunt, uncomfortable question: “What do you have that you did not receive?” That question isn’t meant to insult your effort. It’s meant to put it where it belongs. Everything is grace—or nothing is. There’s no middle category where we get to take the credit without any consequences. Pride doesn’t make success sweeter. It just makes it heavier. You have to defend it. Protect it. That’s not freedom. That is just pressure.

That question isn’t meant to insult your effort; it’s meant to clarify what the Bible says about inheritance and the gifts we hold. It’s the foundation for Christian estate planning, moving us from protecting “ours” to stewarding “His.” Everything is grace—or nothing is. There’s no middle category where we get to take the credit without any consequences. Pride doesn’t make success sweeter. It just makes it heavier. You have to defend it. Protect it. That’s not freedom. That is just pressure.

Why We Want to Be Remembered

Underneath all that security and success is something even more basic. We want to matter after we’re gone. We don’t usually say it that way. We talk about “legacy.” We talk about “impact.” But often? What we’re really wrestling with is the terrifying fear of being forgotten.

So, we attach ourselves to things that last longer than we do. Buildings. Accounts. Names. Anything that might echo after we’re gone. Scripture understands that impulse—it just refuses to let it rule our lives. The Bible never actually promises that your name will last forever on this earth. It promises something much better: that your life is hidden with Christ. That your future is secure even if your memory fades here. Resurrection—not remembrance—is the real Christian hope. Trying to live forever through your stuff? That’s exhausting work. It turns blessings into burdens. It makes letting go feel like you’re dying twice. The gospel offers a different way. You don’t have to preserve yourself. You’ve already been kept. This shifts our perspective toward finishing life in faith, knowing that what matters most at the end of life isn’t the weight of our bank account, but the depth of our trust. When we settle the question of our eternal security, we can finally ask, “is it biblical to leave money to your children?” from a place of freedom rather than a desperate grab for immortality.

Is It Biblical to Leave Money to Your Children?

This is usually where the room gets quiet. People lean back. The conversation gets very … careful. And for good reason. Scripture doesn’t just give us a simple, one-size-fits-all rule here. It gives us wisdom, which is honestly much harder.

The Bible affirms the need to provide for the next generation. Neglect is never spiritual. Responsibility is not optional. Parents are called to care. But Scripture is also brutally honest about the danger of wealth when it’s passed on without formation. Money can bless. It can also completely distort, especially when it arrives without context, or discipline, or faith.

When we ask if inheritance is biblical, the answer is yes, but it is always tied to the concept of leaving a spiritual legacy for your children. I’ve seen it—parents working themselves into the ground just to make life “easy” for their kids, only to leave them totally unprepared for any real hardship. Comfort was secured, but character? Not so much. I’ve also seen parents give modestly and live generously, teaching their children—by example—that money is a tool, not a god. Those children didn’t grow up without struggles, but they did grow up knowing exactly where to turn when the struggle came.

So, the question isn’t just whether leaving money is biblical. The real question is: what kind of people are being shaped along the way? What does the Bible say about inheritance? It suggests that a “good man leaves an inheritance to his children’s children,” but that inheritance is hollow if it doesn’t include a map for how to use it.

Inheritance teaches something, whether you mean it to or not. It teaches what you feared. What you trusted. What you believed would actually keep your children safe. Money can be an act of love, of course. But it can also be a way of avoiding the harder work. The work of formation. Of conversation. Of modeling faith over a lifetime. Scripture doesn’t hand you a formula. It just asks you to pay attention to what is a Godly legacy.

What Our Idols Cost Us

Idols always promise safety, but they never, ever deliver it. Security says, “If you have enough, you’ll be at peace.” Success says, “If you achieve enough, you’ll matter.” Legacy says, “If you leave enough behind, you won’t really be gone.”

None of those promises actually hold up. What they do instead is quietly train the heart to trust something—anything—other than God. And once that happens? Generosity starts to feel risky. Dependence feels weak. Faith feels … theoretical. Jesus doesn’t tear down these idols because He’s against your joy. He tears them down because they simply cannot carry it.

The gospel isn’t asking you to stop working, or saving, or providing. It’s asking you to stop asking those things to save you. You don’t need to build something that lasts forever—you’ve already been promised a resurrection. You don’t need to secure the future—God’s already got it. You don’t need to prove your worth—Christ already did that. When that truth finally sinks in, slowly, the grip starts to loosen. The fear quiets down. Giving becomes possible. Rest stops feeling like it’s irresponsible. And the idols we once defended? They start to look a whole lot smaller than we remembered.

—

Part 3: The Vocabulary of Faith

Spiritual Legacy: How to Pass on the Gospel to Your Family

Every single home teaches something. It really does—even when you’re not even lifting a finger to teach. And the kids? They’re always there, listening, watching, just soaking up the “tone” of the place. They figure out what actually matters just by seeing what gets talked about easily at the dinner table, and—maybe more importantly—the stuff that never quite gets mentioned.

They learn what carries actual weight by watching what shapes your decisions when things get tense or messy. That is exactly how faith gets passed down. Or … how it doesn’t. It’s not really about the formal lessons first; it’s about the language. It’s about what you consider “normal” inside your own four walls. Look, you could leave behind a house, some solid savings, and a perfect 10-year plan—and those children could still be totally lost when life hits them hard. Or you can leave behind far less materially and still give them a solid enough place to stand when life gets heavy.

Scripture has always been more concerned with that second part. Legacy isn’t built in one big, heroic moment. It’s built slowly. Through the words that get used again and again. Day by day. This consistent investment is what creates a truly durable foundation. When we consider what the Bible says about generational wealth, it’s clear that the greatest riches are the values rooted in the home.

Teaching your children the difference between using resources and worshiping them is a primary way to avoid inheritance disputes later on; if they value the Giver more than the gift, the gift won’t tear them apart. It also answers the internal tension of is it a sin to hoard wealth for the future? The answer lies in whether that wealth is a closed fist of fear or a tool for the family’s mission.

Deuteronomy 6 and the Rhythms of Life

You know, when you really look at Deuteronomy 6, it doesn’t actually sound like some rigid church program, does it? To me, it sounds like … well, a day. Just a regular, messy day. You’re walking. You’re sitting. You’re lying down, then getting back up. It’s just life as it’s actually happening in the moment. God’s words? They aren’t meant to be kept on a high shelf for those “special” religious moments. No, they’re supposed to be woven right into the boring, ordinary ones.

And that tells you something pretty huge: faith is meant to live exactly where real life happens. Not just when you’re at church. And definitely not just during those heavy, forced “formal” conversations. I’m talking about it in the car. At the kitchen table. Right before bed. In all those tiny, weird gaps in between everything else. Legacy is built when God comes up naturally—mostly because He is actually a part of your thinking process. When prayer is just … normal, and not some ceremonial event. When you’re practicing gratitude, even on the days that didn’t go well at all. When you can name your frustration honestly instead of trying to cover it up with “religious” talk.

Children notice these things. They really do. They’re watching what actually steadies you when the plans fall apart. They hear how you talk about money, and work, and the people who’ve hurt you, and even the future. They notice whether God is spoken of as a living, breathing reality or just treated like a subject you have to handle with careful, religious gloves.

I know a lot of parents worry about not doing “enough.” But Scripture shifts that whole question. It asks: Are you living a faith that can actually be caught? Because, let’s be honest, faith is caught way more than it is taught. Kids are learning long before they can even explain what they believe. They’re forming this “working theology” just by watching how you live your life. Deuteronomy assumes you’re just there, not that you’re perfect. It assumes that God matters enough to you that He just shows up in the rhythms of it all. That kind of faith? It doesn’t come from pressure; it comes from just being close. From proximity.

The Power of the Story

Honestly, if I had to name one of the most destructive habits in Christian homes, it would be the silence. Specifically, that heavy silence about failure. Parents often get this idea—this well-meaning idea—that they’re protecting their kids by hiding every single weakness. But you know what actually gets hidden instead? Grace. Pure and simple.

Children don’t need “perfect” parents who never seem to struggle. They really don’t. What they actually need are parents who know how to run back to God when they inevitably fail. So, tell your children your story. But don’t rush it. Do it slowly, over time, in those little pieces they can actually carry. Tell them about the mistakes. The fears. Those seasons where you honestly had no clue what you were even doing. And please, tell them how God met you there—not always in some huge, dramatic way, but just … faithfully.

You might think this undermines your authority, but actually it’s the opposite. It builds a kind of trust that lasts. It teaches your kids that repentance is a normal part of life and that mercy is a real thing you can touch. It shows them that faith isn’t about being “impressive”—it’s about being honest.

I’ve sat with grown children—people who just walked away from the faith entirely. And why? Often, it’s because they believed Christianity was only for people who never struggled the way they did. Their parents meant well—of course they did—but they just never gave their kids a “language” for mercy. So the gospel just stayed theoretical. Like a textbook.

But then I’ve seen families where the parents spoke out loud about their failures and about God’s long patience. Those kids didn’t grow up without scars (none of us do), but they knew exactly where to go when they stumbled. They knew grace wasn’t just some emergency measure for “bad” people. It was a part of daily life.

Stories—they shape how a child imagines God. If they only ever hear about your strengths, they might end up believing that faith just collapses the second a weakness shows up. But if they hear about your weakness and God’s faithfulness, they learn where hope actually lives. Your story, if you tell it honestly, becomes more than words; it becomes their map.

Writing It Down

Sometimes, talking just doesn’t go far enough. I’ve experienced that, and maybe you have as well. It isn’t a matter of not being sincere. We all have only so much time. Writing gives you a way to keep sharing your thoughts, even after you’re gone.

A Christian legacy letter isn’t meant to control anyone, even if some people use it that way. It’s not simply a list of expectations or warnings. For me, it’s a witness. It’s your chance to say: “Look, this is what I actually learned about God. This is where I struggled hard. This is how grace actually carried me through.”

Writing helps you pause and think about what truly matters. Many people discover, once they begin, that they spent more time giving comfort than building faith. This can be hard to realize, but it also brings clarity.

A legacy letter doesn’t have to be long. What matters is that it’s honest—really honest. When you write, focus more on Christ than on your career or achievements. Share more about real, lived-out mercy than about being remembered. And when it comes to trust, let that be a bigger theme than success.

Tell your children what you hope they’ll hold onto when life feels unfair. Make it clear that your confidence in their future isn’t about what you leave them in a bank account. It’s about the God who will walk with them when you can’t be there anymore.

I’ve seen families keep these letters long after the possessions were gone and the money was spent. It wasn’t because the writing was impressive or literary. It was because the words sounded like their parent—familiar, real, steady. Writing it all down is an act of humility. It means admitting you won’t always be there, and it’s a way of entrusting your family to God instead of trying to stay in control.

Passing on the Right Vocabulary

At the end of the day, legacy isn’t really about the assets, is it? Not primarily. It’s actually about the language. It’s about the specific words that just … kind of hang in the air at your house. Is it fear—or is it trust? Is it gratitude, or maybe that “I’m owed this” entitlement vibe? Maybe it’s a culture of control versus one of total dependence.

Here is the thing: kids are going to talk about God exactly the way they hear you talk about Him when life is actually going sideways. I’m not talking about the shiny holidays or when you’re sitting in a church pew. I mean, during the raw disappointment. During the stress. During those totally ordinary, boring, frustrating days.

Sure, you might leave them a house. You might leave them some resources. And those things help—they really do—but they aren’t going to be the thing that actually guides them when the world starts shaking under their feet. The gospel will. And the gospel? That is something learned through a shared vocabulary. It happens through the words you repeat and the habits you actually live out right in front of them. It’s about Scripture spoken plainly—without all the religious jargon—and grace practiced right out in the open, especially when it’s messy.

That kind of legacy? It doesn’t just happen by accident. But—and here is the best part—it doesn’t require you to be perfect, either. It just grows. Slowly. Through ordinary faithfulness. One honest conversation at a time.

—

Part 4: Practical Wisdom for the Kingdom

Practical Wisdom for Christian Estate Planning

Let’s be real. Most people actually hate talking about planning. And honestly? It isn’t because they don’t “get” it. It’s because planning forces you to sit with something you’d really rather not think about for more than a few seconds. Eventually, you won’t be the one there to answer the questions. You won’t be the one fixing what breaks or smoothing things over. Someone else is going to be standing there—holding everything you left behind—just trying to make sense of it all.

That thought? It’s exactly why people push things off. “I’ll get to it later,” we say. Or, “There’s still time.” But here’s the thing: time doesn’t stop just because we’re avoiding the conversation. And that weight? It doesn’t just vanish into thin air. It just shifts. Usually, it lands right on the people you love most, and usually right when they’re already buried under the weight of grief.

Planning isn’t about being morbid. Not at all. It’s just about being honest. It’s about loving your people enough to actually think ahead while you still have the clarity and the strength to do so. Whether you plan carefully or just avoid the whole thing altogether, something is getting left behind either way. Peace … or confusion. A clear direction … or a lot of tension. Those outcomes are being shaped right now—long before the end ever shows up.

Generosity as Worship

Worship? It’s funny, but we usually box it in. We think it’s just about the music or showing up on a Sunday morning. But when you actually dig into Scripture, it’s never that small. Not even close. Real worship is what holds worth in your eyes. It’s what you’re willing to trust God with when holding on to stuff feels like the only “safe” move. And—let’s be honest—nothing exposes that truth faster than money. Nothing.

Think about the church for a second. For most of us, that local community has been quietly supporting us for years. I mean, think about who taught you. Who corrected you when you were off track? Someone was praying for you when you didn’t even have the words for it yourself. People sat in the trenches with you when everything fell apart. You heard the gospel preached to you right when your faith felt… well, pretty thin.

And all that happened way before you ever considered making “final plans.” But then, the second we start thinking about the end? The church just kind of disappears from the map. It’s not usually because people are angry. It’s fear. Pure and simple. We’re scared things will be mishandled. We’re scared of losing our grip on the wheel. We worry that things won’t be done “our way” anymore.

But that fear? It completely misses the point of worship. Giving to the church was never about being 100% sure of the result. It’s about trust. Always has been. You don’t give because you can control the outcome—you give because God is worth it. End of story. His work doesn’t just stop because your life does.

When you treat generosity as an act of worship, it stops being this “strategic” move. It’s not about influence. It’s not about getting your name on something. It just becomes… gratitude. It’s you saying, without needing to justify it to anyone: “God has been faithful here, and I trust Him to stay faithful after I’m gone.” That kind of giving does something to the heart. Control stops feeling so vital. Fear actually loses its grip. And what looks like a minus on a bank statement feels like a massive win for the soul.

The Peaceable Estate

Grief is already hard enough on its own. When confusion gets added, it becomes even heavier. I’ve seen families fall apart, and it wasn’t because of greed. It was the silence—no real conversations, no explanations, just legal documents and assumptions.

That’s when people start guessing what you really meant. Old wounds you thought were healed can come back. Trust slowly fades in the background. That kind of damage lasts much longer than any inheritance. A peaceful estate isn’t always about everything being equal. It’s about making sure no one is surprised. Clarity is a form of kindness.

This means you need to talk while you still can. Explain why you made certain decisions and share the reasons behind them. You’re not doing this to defend yourself. It’s about helping your children so they don’t have to guess your intentions when you’re gone.

I’ve seen families go through deep grief and still stay close because everything was clear. They didn’t agree with every decision or love every outcome, but they understood the reasons. That understanding kept bitterness from growing.

Being a peacemaker doesn’t just stop when your life ends. In many ways, this is one of the last chances to make a difference. Planning with peace in mind means thinking about real people, not just numbers. Consider personalities, family history, and the weak spots each one has. Care more about how your children get along with each other after you’re gone than about appearances. Avoiding these talks might feel easier now, but wisdom is always kinder in the long run.

Kingdom Impact

Most people see estate planning as just paperwork. It feels like a checklist: sign here, sign there, then close the folder and move on.

That’s how our culture usually approaches it.

But Scripture challenges that view. It invites you to see estate planning not as legal cleanup, but as a final act of stewardship. When you are no longer here, your choices will keep speaking. They will show what you trusted and what you believed would last after you were gone.

And control always slips away. It always does.

Christian estate planning is not louder than the world’s version. It is quieter. The world asks, “Who gets what?” but Scripture asks, “What story does this leave behind?” Are we living in God’s story or one of our own making? The world focuses on protection, while Scripture encourages service. It is not just about preserving what you built, but about honoring the One who gave it to you in the first place. That’s living in His story.

That shift, though it may seem small, changes everything.

Now, don’t misunderstand me. Legal clarity is important. Order matters. Wills, trusts, and beneficiary designations all require precision. If paperwork is sloppy, it can create chaos in families. I have seen siblings fall out over unclear instructions. That’s silence when clarity was needed, and confusion where peace should have prevailed. Faithfulness acts.

I have seen believers set up their estates to support gospel work long after they were gone. A small church was able to keep going because someone quietly gave support. A missionary family received help during hard times. A local ministry continued without public recognition. There were no plaques or headlines—just quiet obedience.

Those decisions were not about building a legacy or making a name. They were about trust. They quietly said, “I won’t be here. God will.”

That simple truth changes how we face fear.

When you truly believe that God is still at work after you are gone, you start to let go of control. Money no longer feels like your last line of defense. It becomes a tool that keeps moving, circulating, and serving, instead of sitting locked away.

When you plan this way, urgency softens and panic fades. You stop trying to control everything after you are gone. Instead, you focus on whether your plans reflect the kingdom you said you believed in.

Planning this way is not cold or morbid. It is not a grim focus on endings. It is hopeful. It faces the reality of mortality without fear. It recognizes that your time is limited, but refuses to let that fact create fear.

Instead, it brings clarity.

Clarity is a gift to your family.

The alternative is not good. I have seen it: ambiguity, guesswork, and unspoken expectations that come up after someone dies, when no one can explain what was meant. That kind of confusion does not honor anyone.

But when estate decisions come from steady faith instead of quiet anxiety, they leave something better behind. It is not just about transferring assets or having neat paperwork.

They leave a sense of coherence.

They tell your children—and anyone paying attention—that the kingdom of God wasn’t a Sunday vocabulary word. It shaped spreadsheets. It shaped signatures. It shaped the final distribution of resources.

That is not a small thing.

And once you see estate planning that way—as stewardship extended to the final chapter—it stops feeling like administrative debris. It becomes one more arena where trust in God sharpens the edge of obedience.

All the way to the end.

When You’re No Longer in the Room

There’s going to be a day—it’s inevitable, really—when you just won’t be there to explain yourself anymore. You won’t be around to clarify things. Your decisions? They’re going to have to do all the talking for you. They’ll tell your children (and probably many others, too) what you actually, truly believed about God. It’s about trust. It’s about what really mattered to you during those times when life felt completely uncertain, and you realized the future just couldn’t be controlled.

This kind of practical wisdom for the kingdom? It isn’t trying to be “impressive” or loud. Honestly, it’s quietly thoughtful. It’s incredibly ordinary. It doesn’t spend any energy trying to preserve your own name or build some monument. It just tries to leave behind peace. Shalom. A true flourishing linked to living in the presence of God. Each day. Unassumingly. And that kind of peace—when it’s actually, intentionally left behind—well, it lasts way longer than anything money could ever buy.

—

Part 5: Finishing Well

Finishing Well: Preparing for Your Eternal and Earthly Legacy

Honestly? Most of us don’t really think about the end. Not in any real sustained way, at least. It used to be normal generations ago. But we find it morbid. We’re too busy staying “useful” or “needed.” Finishing always feels like this thing that’s miles away, even when you know it actually isn’t. And when it finally does start to show up on the horizon, it usually happens pretty quietly. Scripture talks about the end, but not to rush us or freak us out. It teaches us to number our days, so that we have a heart of wisdom. It talks about the end, so we don’t hold on so tight that we forget who is actually carrying us through the whole thing. Finishing well isn’t about some big, impressive performance at the very end. It’s just about learning how to loosen your grip without panicking. And trust me, that is way harder than it sounds.

The Sabbath of Life

We spend our whole lives working and planning and trying to be the “responsible” ones. We hold it all together—or we try to, anyway. And that’s fine. It’s not wrong. God gave us work before anything in this world ever broke. But there’s a point where the work has to change. Or maybe the lesson does? At some point, you have to learn how to stop without feeling like a total failure.

I’ve personally sat with people who weren’t actually afraid of dying, but they were deeply unsettled by “unfinished” things. Conversations they dodged. Things they meant to fix but didn’t. What bothered them wasn’t death itself—it was the feeling that if they let go, everything would just fall apart. That fear? It just shows you how much weight they were trying to carry on their own shoulders.

The “Sabbath of life” is realizing that God doesn’t just step away when you have to step back. He doesn’t lose control just because you’re doing less. Honestly, He doesn’t need you to hold the world together. He finishes what He starts. Period. Letting go isn’t quitting—it’s trust. Sometimes, it’s the deepest trust a person ever has to learn. That kind of rest doesn’t hit you all at once. Usually, it comes slowly. Sometimes through weakness or limits you didn’t even choose. It’s that simple (but painful) realization: you’ve done what you could, and now you’re being asked to trust God with what you can’t do. And when that rest finally arrives? It’s quiet. But it’s real.

The Resurrection Hope

Christians don’t look at the end the same way everyone else does. It’s not because we don’t grieve (we definitely do) or because death feels like some small thing. It doesn’t. It’s because death just isn’t the final word. For a believer, the end isn’t a “goodbye.” It’s more of a “see you in a little while.” So death, in that sense, has lost its sting.

I’ve been in rooms where that truth wasn’t just preached from a pulpit—it was just there. The loss was heavy. The grief was incredibly real. And yet? There was this steadiness. Not some fake optimism or denial, but a hope that had been lived with for a long, long time. That kind of hope doesn’t just pop up at the last second. It’s formed over years of ordinary, everyday faith. It’s about trusting Christ when absolutely nothing dramatic is happening. When life is plain.

What you leave behind isn’t just the stuff you owned. You leave behind a sense of what you actually believed about the future. Like—was this world everything? Or was something better coming? Resurrection hope frees you from that desperate need to make yourself last forever through your work or your name. You don’t have to do that if you actually believe another City is coming.

Keeping Your Eyes on Jesus

Scripture talks about the Christian life like a race, but honestly, it’s not a sprint. It’s the kind of race you finish just by staying upright. Finishing well doesn’t mean being the strongest one at the end. It’s about knowing where to look when you’re completely exhausted. When you have nothing left to prove.

I’ve seen people finish badly, and I’ve seen others finish quite well. The difference? It wasn’t about their circumstances. It was habit. It was where their eyes had been going for years. People who learned to keep coming back to Jesus, over and over, found it way easier to trust Him when everything else started falling away. But people who lived on pure momentum? They struggled when things slowed down. Finishing well is just a long, long practice of trust. It’s about believing—right up to the very last breath—that Christ’s grip on you is infinitely stronger than your shaky grip on Him. And, thank God, it is.

Looking Ahead

The Bible talks about this City that’s coming. And look, it’s not just a metaphor. It’s real. A place where things are finally set right. Work isn’t frustrating there. Fear doesn’t get to call the shots. Loss doesn’t follow you around.

But here’s the thing: that future City isn’t meant to pull you “out” of this life. It’s meant to help you hold this life lightly. When you believe that City is actually coming, you don’t have to cling to this world so desperately. You can work without making an idol out of it. You can plan without being paralyzed by fear. You can love people without trying to control how they turn out. That way of living? It doesn’t come naturally to any of us. It’s learned. Slowly. Over years of following Jesus in tiny, ordinary ways. And when the end finally comes? It won’t feel like a collapse. It’ll feel like an arrival. That … that is what it means to finish well.

—

Conclusion: The First Step Is Today

A lot of people seem to think that legacy is just something you deal with “later.” You know, when life finally slows down or when you’re older, and things supposedly make more sense. But the truth is? Legacy doesn’t wait. It’s happening right now. Actually, it’s been happening for a while. It shows up in those boring, everyday moments. It’s in how you speak when you’re exhausted, how you react when things go completely sideways, and what your family hears you say about God when you aren’t trying to impress anyone. These moments feel tiny, but they’re the ones that actually stick.

I know many people read stuff like this and immediately feel this weird pressure. Like you’re suddenly “behind,” or you have to fix your entire life by Tuesday. But that’s honestly not how God works. He doesn’t expect you to overhaul your whole existence in one go. He just asks for the next step. Just one. You don’t need a massive bank account or some flawless, 50-year plan to leave a real impact. You don’t even have to undo every single past mistake. What actually matters is just walking with Jesus today. That’s where the real shift begins.

And if you feel like you’re late to the game, you aren’t the only one. Seriously, most people feel that way. If you’ve got regrets, well, that’s just part of being human. God already knows the whole story anyway. He works with what’s real—the messy stuff—not with some “perfect” version of what we wish had happened.

Legacy grows through everyday faithfulness. It’s about telling the truth instead of hiding it. It’s admitting you aren’t in control (but trusting God anyway). It’s about asking for forgiveness and actually giving it to others, even when it’s the last thing you want to do. It’s letting people see that your faith is part of your reаl, gritty life, not just some “neat and tidy” thing you keep in a box.

I’ve feared that if I admit sin, especially to my teenage or adult children, then they might lose respect for me. But I’ve found that the opposite is often true. More mature children already realize that their parents are not perfect. Parents need to acknowledge this, love their children, and provide a godly example. Cherishing the good news that all our sins are covered in Christ brings peace and relational closure.

People don’t need you to be a superhero. They just need to know where to go when life gets heavy. They need to see that you actually, personally rely on God’s grace.

If you’re a bit older, don’t take this as some kind of warning. Think of it as permission. Permission to finally slow down. To say the things that actually matter. To clear up what you can and—this is the big one—to let go of the things you were never meant to hold onto forever. And if you’re younger? Don’t trick yourself into thinking this is for “later.” The way you’re living right now is already teaching someone something. The habits you’re building, the way you handle fear, the way you talk about God … someone is watching that. They’re learning from you, whether you’re trying to teach them or not.

You can’t choose how long you’ve got, but you can choose how you’re going to live today. So, just start there. Walk with Jesus today. Trust Him with the stuff that’s kept you up at night. Love the people in front of you. Be honest. Rest when you’re tired. This kind of life might not look like much on the outside, but it’s the kind that actually lasts.

I want to finish with a simple prayer. God, please just help them walk with You today. Take care of their families. Give them real peace where they feel overwhelmed right now. And when their work is finally done, let them find their rest in You. Amen.

About the author

Dr. Richard John Perhai serves as Vice President and Academic Dean at Kyiv Theological Seminary, where he has been a professor of Bible and Theology since 2003. He holds a Ph.D. in Systematic Theology (magna cum laude) from Baptist Bible Seminary, a Th.M. in Bible Exposition from Dallas Theological Seminary. He is the author of Antiochene Theōria in the Writings of Theodore of Mopsuestia and Theodoret of Cyrus (Fortress Press, 2015).

Dr. Larry Oats is a longtime Bible professor and former Dean of Maranatha Baptist Seminary (2009-2019) with over 40 years of service at Maranatha Baptist University in Watertown, Wisconsin. A graduate of MBU, he holds a PhD in Systematic Theology and specializes in Fundamentalism and Baptist history.

#62 Financial Responsibility in Marriage: Aligning Finances with Your Spouse

Part I: Biblical Framework

He Owns It All

The Psalmist says, “The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it” (Psalm 24:1). Paul tells Timothy, “For we brought nothing into the world, and we cannot take anything out of the world” (1 Tim. 6:7). By recognizing that the Lord owns everything, it should loosen our demand for control, our obsession with material gain, and our fear of failure. If God owns everything, then we are more like managers of what God has given us rather than owners. This is where we are to be faithful stewards (1 Cor. 4:2), practicing money management that honors God as the ultimate provider.

The Goodness of Wealth

What’s more is that the Bible often speaks of finances and even wealth in positive ways. If God created it, it is good. Here are a couple of ways wealth is positively framed in Scripture:  

— Sometimes wealth is a sign of God’s blessing. God does, in fact, bless people with wealth. 

Riches and honor are with me, enduring wealth and righteousness (Proverbs 8:18).

The blessing of the Lord makes rich, and he adds no sorrow with it (Proverbs 10:22).

— Wealth can also be a sign of wise living. The implementation of wisdom with your wealth can put you on good financial ground.      

The crown of the wise is their wealth, but the folly of fools brings folly (Proverbs 14:24).

Wealth is God’s gift to us. It’s a reflection of God’s goodness towards us and just like any gift, it can be twisted, misused, and become idolatrous. Financial responsibility means recognizing that, while wealth is good, it is also to be handled with care and integrity. To avoid turning money into an idol is to recognize its limitations and understand the importance of being financially responsible in all areas of our lives.

Wealth’s shortfall

In the light of eternity, wealth in this life comes with serious limitations. Here are a few limitations the Bible offers us.

1. Money cannot deliver anyone from the wrath of God.

“Riches do not profit in the day of wrath, but righteousness delivers from death” (Proverbs 11:4).

Jesus tells the church in Laodicea, “You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked” (Revelation 3:17).

2. Wealth is temporary.

“For riches do not last forever; and does a crown endure to all generations?” (Proverbs 27:24)

”Let the lowly brother boast in his exaltation, and the rich in his humiliation, because like a flower of the grasshe will pass away. For the sun rises with its scorching heat and withers the grass; its flower falls, and its beauty perishes. So also will the rich man fade away in the midst of his pursuits” (James 1:9-11).

3. Wealth is not our ultimate goal.  

“Whoever trusts in his riches will fall, but the righteous will flourish like a green leaf” (Proverbs 11:28).

“But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you” (Matthew 6:33).

As we consider these biblical truths, it is clear that financial responsibility involves understanding these limitations. Financial priorities should be rooted in eternal values, not in the fleeting nature of material wealth.

Stewardship

The word “manager” is a modern term. What we think of when we think of a manager, the Bible speaks of a “steward” (1 Cor. 4:2). In essence, these are the same thing. But if I had to offer a definition of stewardship, I would say it is the faithful management of resources, entrusted to us for God’s purposes, to be used in ways that glorify Him by blessing others. Whatever the Lord gives us, He entrusts to us for a season. There’s a weight and responsibility that must be felt by all believers because we will be held accountable for how we use the resources He has given us (Luke 12:42-48; Romans 14:12).

Why does God make us stewards? Well, for one thing, managing resources effectively is a key part of our spiritual discipleship. In the beginning, God created humanity in His image and gave us dominion over His creation (Gen. 1:26-28). Man was made a steward of everything God had made. What’s more, man was to bring God glory by caring for each aspect of God’s creation. By making us stewards of His creation, God invites us to mirror His wisdom, care, and generosity. He created us to be active participants in His work. Joining Him in this work is part of how He builds our character and makes us look more like Him (Luke 16:10).

Recall earlier where finance is about relational responsibility. Money management is how we learn to trust God when we have little or when we have much. It trains us to align our hearts with His purposes and priorities. It’s one aspect of our relationship with the Lord. God is a loving Father entrusting small tasks to His children to help them learn financial responsibility and grow in intimacy with Him. God’s promise? He will guide us and the process of our growth for our good. As He does so, we are to provide for our family (1 Tim. 5:8), give generously to others (2 Cor. 9:7), support gospel ministry in our church (Phil. 4:15-17), and invest in eternity (Matt. 6:19-21).

Money conversations aren’t just about numbers, they’re about values. What we spend, save, and give to reveals what we care about most. So once we’re talking openly, the next step is to ask: Are we aiming at the same things? Are our values aligned? Do we have a shared vision for our life together—or are we just surviving paycheck to paycheck? This is important because couples who align their values can align their vision—and couples with shared vision can walk in unity.

Money conversations aren’t just about numbers, they’re about values. What we spend, save, and give to reveals what we care about most. So once we’re talking openly, the next step is to ask: Are we aiming at the same things? Are our values aligned? Do we have a shared vision for our life together—or are we just surviving paycheck to paycheck? This is important because couples who align their values can align their vision—and couples with shared vision can walk in unity.

—

Reflection Questions:

1. How does acknowledging God as owner of all things change how you view what you “own”?
2. How have you been taught to think about money? Is it taboo?
3. Who has modeled good financial stewardship for you?
4. Have you ever been tempted to idolize wealth?

—

Part II: Financial Goals for Christian Couples

“And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent.”– Colossians 1:18

Fearing and honoring God first

What goals should a married couple have for our finances? I think that’s an excellent question. First and foremost, we must be motivated by the fear of the Lord and desire to honor God first. Solomon writes, “Honor the Lord with your wealth and with the firstfruits of all your produce; then your barns will be filled with plenty, and your vats will be bursting with wine” (Proverbs 3:9-10). But how do we honor God with our money?

The first thing we must realize is that we only honor God with our money when we trust him with all our needs. Just before Solomon shared that bit about the firstfruits, he wrote, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.  In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths” (Proverbs 3:5-6).

The command to trust God “with all your heart” means that we are to commit our whole selves to God’s care. In other words, God rather than our money is what we are trusting. Solomon is telling us that we must believe that God is who he says he is and that that means he can meet our every need. We are to trust in God’s character and believe his promises. So, for example, when God says that he will “never leave us for forsake us,” we should trust that that is truly the case!     

One of the ways we display gratitude towards and confidence in God is by giving generously to our church and to others. We shouldn’t give out of guilt or compulsion. Instead, we should give cheerfully, joyfully and with liberty and out of love for God and neighbor. Our giving should be done in recognition that God himself has been generous with us. Consider this passage by the apostle Paul:

The “firstfruits of the Spirit” is the “first installment” of salvation and the pledge that guarantees our ultimate redemption at the end of the age. Paul wrote elsewhere:

A “first installment” means there are more installments to come. God has justified and preserved us and has promised to glorify us in the world to come. Our justification is by the forgiveness of our sins through the shed blood of Christ. Our preservation is by the sealing of the Holy Spirit. And we will receive future glorification when we’re in the presence of God. God has been generous and gracious to us.  We acknowledge God’s generosity towards us by honoring Him first with our “firstfruits.” So then, whatever type of income you receive, honor God first with it.

Stinginess stifles flourishing

Let’s contrast honoring God first with stinginess. A part of being created in the image of God is having moral agency. By “agency,” I mean the exercise of a person’s choices, in so far as they are capable, to make things happen in the world and to affect or prevent changes within the world. Generosity, by definition, represents a form of agency. When we give, we are intervening in something or someone else’s circumstances with resources to do good. When we give as couples or individuals, we are reflecting God’s generosity. And to what end do we give? Well, in part, we give so that we may flourish more. Yes, we give for God’s glory. And yes, we give for others’ good. But there’s more to it than that. When we obey God and follow his example of generosity, it actually works for our good—for our flourishing! The world thinks its best for couples to use all their wealth on themselves and that doing so leads to flourishing, but the logic of the Bible is actually the opposite! We grow in our marriages when we give!

Contrast this with the view of people who think “I cannot make a difference in the world,” or “What I do does not matter.” There’s no hope or purpose in that sentiment. People who live in a perceived world of scarcity, deficiency, and insecurity tend to hoard things, which results in impoverishment of a different kind, namely, being anxious, feeling vulnerable, and dissatisfied. That’s not how the people of God are to be. God is “rich in mercy” (Ephesians 2:4). Being redeemed image bearers of God gives us purpose and meaning. So then, our decisions matter, our giving matters, and our giving impacts eternity.   

My son, Gabriel, is adopted. As you probably know, adoption is a very expensive proposition. We paid a portion of the costs but through the generosity of others that financial burden significantly lessened. Adoption may not have even been possible for us except through the generosity others showed. Adoption changed Gabriel’s life. What’s more is that he’s changed our family’s life. Now Gabriel is a member of a family where he is loved, cared for, and hears the gospel every day. Do you see how generosity can so easily lead to eternal impact? I hope we feel the weight of that. When we give sacrificially, it pushes out greed and selfishness within our own hearts and deepens our ability to love others more. Giving fights against consumerism and self-indolence.

Save with Wisdom and Diligence

But before you think “my spouse and I need to give everything away,” let’s be wise in our approach towards wealth and possessions. We need to be balanced and holistic in our thinking about wealth. We can give everything away and feel “spiritual” or “godly” but if it ends up undercutting our other stewardships, then it may have actually been foolish. Paul tells Timothy to “provide for your household” and if you don’t you have “denied the faith” and are “worse than an unbeliever” (2 Timothy 5:8). Can you think of a worse indictment than “you’ve denied the faith and are worse than an unbeliever?” Money management for your family is not selfish but wise. Again, Solomon writes, “He who gathers in summer is a prudent son, but he who sleeps in harvest is a son who brings shame” (Proverbs 10:4-5).

How does money management help us provide for our families? Well, money can provide protection:A rich man’s wealth is his strong city; the poverty of the poor is their ruin (Proverbs 10:15).

There are unexpected expenses that happen all the time. We have plumbing issues, tires wear out, and things break. Yet, many of us don’t plan for these things even though we inherently know to expect the unexpected. There are also crises that happen. You can have unexpected medical bills, suffer a job loss, or go bankrupt. You should save to protect yourselves from these types of situations and build your “strong city.” Doing so is part of financial responsibility. Do you know that you and your spouse are responsible for yourselves and your children in these ways? Because you are, you should be wise and save some of your money. Sure, saving is work. But it’s wise work!

The Bible also points to creation and an example of the prudence in saving. Proverbs 6:6-8 says:

Go to the ant, you sluggard;
    consider its ways and be wise!
It has no commander,
    no overseer or ruler,
yet it stores its provisions in summer
    and gathers its food at harvest.

The ant isn’t thinking about financial goals or retirement planning. It simply prepares for what might come. Proverbs is pointing us to the wisdom of intentional and consistent preparation. An ant can plan ahead without excuse. How much more should we, as image-bearers of God, prepare with diligence and prudence? Managing resources is a godly discipline.

Spend with discernment and integrity

While saving requires diligence and discipline, it’s not the end goal. We don’t save simply to stockpile wealth—we save so we can live wisely, give generously, and spend with discernment.

But how we spendwhat we’ve saved is just as important. In fact, our spending often reveals more about our hearts than our budgets do. If saving is a test of self-control, then spending is a test of character. Let’s turn now to how Proverbs challenges us to approach spending with wisdom and purpose.

Solomon wrote, “With me (wisdom) are riches and honor, enduring wealth and prosperity” (Proverbs 8:18). We must seek wisdom so riches can “endure.” You will need wisdom and understanding in order to spend wisely. Listen to how the wife of noble character is described when it comes to handling wealth:

She is discerning and knows the market and the value of her product. More than that, she not only makes a profit but she “opens her hand to the poor.”

While wisdom leads to “enduring” wealth, in contrast, laziness and foolish behavior leads to poverty. “Lazy hands make for poverty, but diligent hands bring wealth” (Proverbs 10:4).

Foolishness or unwise spending can include attempting to keep up social appearances, spending sprees as an escape mechanism, sinful indolence, living beyond your means or being engulfed with materialism that leads to massive debt. And yet, Solomon said, “Whoever loves pleasure will be a poor man; he who loves wine and oil will not be rich” (Proverbs 21:17).

That doesn’t mean we can’t have nice things or go on a nice vacation and make wonderful memories. But we’ve crossed the line from wise to foolish when we live beyond our means.

In summary, a biblical approach to money means we honor God first, save wisely, and spend with discernment. We start by honoring the Lord with our firstfruits—not as an afterthought, but as a declaration of trust. Then we save not out of fear or hoarding, but with wisdom and purpose—because we’re stewards, not consumers. And finally, we spend with intentionality, knowing every dollar is a reflection of what we value. Sacrificing, saving, and spending aren’t just financial categories—they’re spiritual disciplines that reveal who or what we truly worship.

—

Reflection Questions:

1. How does fearing God with our finances affect your approach to money management?
2. What messages or lessons did you receive about managing resources growing up?
3. Have you discussed financial responsibility with your spouse? How have you navigated couple finances together?

—

Part III: Financial Unity in Marriage

We’ve just looked at what the Bible says should shapeour financial goals as Christians—honoring God first, fearing Him above wealth, saving wisely, and spending with discernment. These are not just personal goals; they’re shared goals.

But here’s the truth: it doesn’t matter how good your theology of money is if you and your spouse are not on the same page.

You can have the best budget and intentions, but if you’re pulling in opposite directions, not only will the plan not materialize, but it’s going to create friction and conflict. Money and marriage are deeply intertwined. In marriage, finances are never just about the numbers. They’re about trust, transparency, unity, and values. So now we turn to the question: How do couples split finances in a way that reflects unity and biblical stewardship?

One Flesh, One Bank Account

Genesis 2:24 says, “That is why a man leaves his father and mother and is united to his wife, and they become one flesh.” This describes the deep, covenantal bond between a husband and wife, where two distinct individuals are united physically, emotionally, and spiritually into a new, inseparable partnership.

It means they no longer operate as two competing individuals but as one united team—with shared purpose, shared responsibilities, and shared lives under God’s design. When it comes to finances in marriage, it’s not just about managing money but about managing a shared life under God’s plan.

I don’t think the Bible necessarily says that having separate bank accounts is sinful. There may be good reasons for having separate accounts, like if one spouse has their own business and needs to keep a different business account for tracking purposes. However, in the context of finances and marriage, I believe it is unwise for you and your spouse to keep separate accounts.

If the “one flesh” union is about being inseparable partners, then this should certainly include our finances. This is especially the case given that the Bible so often identifies our money in relationships with what matters most to us. I understand there is going to be tension between transparency and autonomy, but let’s look at some data.

In the book “Get Married” by Brad Wilcox, he argues that couples who pooled their money were more than 20% less likely to divorce compared to couples who kept separate finances. Additionally, multiple sources note that shared checking accounts correlate with lower divorce rates and higher marital satisfaction (e.g., Institute of Family Studies). The data clearly shows that managing wealth together yields better long-term outcomes.

Now, there’s nothing magical about a joint checking account. This is not a silver bullet for marital bliss. However, joint accounts facilitate transparency and force a shared outlook on finances that does improve and protect relationships. The “one-fleshness” of Genesis may be speaking about marital intimacy but a joint checking account is next door!

If you’re uncertain about fully merging accounts, consider that it’s not about control, and it’s not about micromanaging each other. There’s still room for personal discretion—like having a budgeted amount for each spouse to spend freely. In the end, a question like how to deal with money issues in a relationship is going to look different for every couple, but there should also be shared visibility. You don’t have to ask permission for every purchase, but you should be able to see what’s going on at any time.

Remember that in a Christian marriage, unity doesn’t mean uniformity. It means we’re working toward the same vision and handling money in relationships together with honesty and care.

A joint account creates the context for that kind of shared stewardship—and research and Scripture both affirm that it leads to stronger, healthier marriages.

Financial communication

Here is this point in a nutshell: you have to talk to each other about money. I know that sentence may seem needless on the surface but many couples run into trouble simply because they do not communicate with each other and establish clear goals and objectives.

You can share one bank account and still not share financial unity. You can be “one flesh” and still totally miss each other when it comes to your financial fears, habits, and goals. When you do speak to each other, it’s important to keep in mind what your concerns are. Listen in order to understand your spouse. That doesn’t mean you’ll agree with them, but you can’t reach unity until you understand one another. The apostle James isn’t necessarily thinking about money, but his words are true for marriage and finances:

While communicating with each other, there will be fears, habits, and family of origin issues that will come up. That can be awkward and you may not know how to initially react. Know that that’s completely normal. Pray with each other in that. Before you assert your opinion or reply, rearticulate back to your spouse what you heard them say. Be careful to fairly represent their fears and concerns. This will immensely help in disarming defensiveness and bring clarity to the situation. You want light, not heat when it comes to these conversations. Another helpful thing to do is to schedule a planning time. For some couples, it’ll need to be frequent. As you get better at following a plan, you’ll find out that you’ll need less meetings. But it takes work to get there.    

Aligning values and vision

“Where there is no vision, the people perish.” (Proverbs 29:18)

Money conversations aren’t just about numbers, they’re about values. What we spend, save, and give to reveals what we care about most. So once we’re talking openly, the next step is to ask: Are we aiming at the same things? Are our values aligned? Do we have a shared vision for our life together—or are we just surviving paycheck to paycheck? This is important because couples who align their values can align their vision—and couples with shared vision can walk in unity.

There are typically two money personalities—call them the spender and the saver. While working towards an aligned vision with your spouse, it helps to keep in mind which you are vs. which your spouse is. Meaning, in a relationship, there tends to be a person who is the spender and a person who is the saver. The difference between you and your spouse is likely where a lot of your conflict happens. Dave Ramsey uses the terms “nerd” (saver) and the “free spirit” (spender).

I think that’s helpful but let’s use biblical images to describe this dynamic. The saver is like the ant in Proverbs. “Go to the ant, you sluggard; consider its ways and be wise! It has no commander, no overseer or ruler, yet it stores its provisions in summer and gathers its food at harvest” (Proverbs 6:6-8). The lesson here is that the ant embodies foresight, discipline, and preparation. This mirrors money management and the saver’s instinct to build reserves, avoid debt, and prepare for lean seasons. While all these attributes are good, the tendency for the saver is that they can lean towards hoarding or placing security in savings rather than God.

The biblical image for the spender is the “bird of the air.” Jesus said, “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” (Matthew 6:25-26). The bird illustrates trust in God’s provision and freedom from anxiety over material needs. This mirrors money and marriage, as the spender’s capacity to enjoy what God has given and live in the moment. While it’s wonderful to enjoy what God has given, the tendency for the spender is to lean towards impulsiveness or neglect planning for the future.

One of the tasks of every marriage is to balance however much saver and spender you and your spouse are. The ant without the bird’s faith may become anxious, tight-fisted, and stingy. The bird without the ant’s wisdom may become impulsive and live unprepared. Again, Solomon proves helpful. He writes, “It is good to grasp the one and not let go of the other. Whoever fears God will avoid all extremes” (Ecclesiastes 7:18).

A marriage benefits when the saver learns joyful generosity and the spender learns wise restraint—together they reflect both prudence and trust. The key in the process of aligning your values and vision is to recognize you need each other.

Where to start?

First, start with a written budget. Every single financial responsibility program or planner will tell you this. You can have a budget on paper, an excel spreadsheet, or on an app on your phone. It really doesn’t matter. The point is to have something visible. You need to see your income and expenses. If you’re having financial problems in marriage, having a budget helps you identify if it’s an income problem or a spending problem. Sometimes it can be both. But there’s no way to direct your money if you don’t know where it’s going.

Once you see where your money is going, it’s time to direct your money to where you want it to go. This is called a “zero-based budget” where you “zero out” your income by giving every dollar a place to go (e.g., savings, debt, etc.).

If your issue is overspending (spending more than you make), then a budget can help you see where to cut back. However, it’s important to note that overspending can easily lead to conflict. You may be upset with your spouse for overspending and being careless. This is where the gospel is crucial. We need to “be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you” (Ephesians 4:32).If both of you are committed to moving forward with a plan, then this is an opportunity to extend grace towards one another and build relational equity as you gain clarity on your spending habits.

After getting clarity on how much you make as a household and how your income is being spent, you can begin to share financial goals as a couple. You can talk about giving, retirement planning, or debt reduction. This is the time when you and your spouse agree on what matters most. A step towards financial unity in marriage is developing shared purpose and mission. Your couple finances are made to serve that mission.

Here are a few examples of shared financial purposes in marriage:

— “We want to live simply so we can give generously.”

— “We want financial margin to spend more time with our kids.”

— “We want to be debt-free to be available for missions or ministry.”

— “We want to model stewardship and contentment for our children.”

If you have a shared purpose, you can avoid conflict and money issues in marriage that turn into arguments like, “Why are you saving so much?” “Why can’t we go on that trip?” “Why are we not [insert the blank]?” God has a purpose for your marriage and your money is meant to serve that purpose.

—

Reflection Questions:

1. What do we want our money to say about us?
2. What kind of life do we feel called to live?
3. What kingdom priorities should shape our finances in marriage?

—

Part IV: Common Challenges and Biblical Wisdom

We’ve laid out some of the financial goals that should shape every Christian couple—honoring God first, saving wisely, and spending with discernment. These are good and biblical aims. But let’s be honest: just because we know what we should do doesn’t mean we always do it.

Life is messy. We get blindsided by emergencies. We carry debt. We wrestle with fear and selfishness. Sometimes we just never learned how to handle money wisely, and other times we’ve made decisions we now regret. Perhaps you don’t even know where to start. It can be overwhelming. It can also illicit feelings of shame.

At the heart of these struggles is the tension between financial responsibility and the daily realities of relationship and money—a tension that every couple faces at some point. This next section isn’t about shame—it’s about grace and growth. God speaks to the real, raw places of financial stress and misalignment in our lives. The beauty of Proverbs—and the Bible as a whole—is that it doesn’t just give us ideals. It gives us wisdom for when we fall short and guidance for how to move forward.

Let’s talk about some of the common financial challenges couples face, and how God’s Word gives us wisdom to confront them—not with guilt, but with hope.

Build an emergency fund

“The prudent sees danger and hides himself, but the simple go on and suffer for it.” (Proverbs 22:3)

Emergencies don’t announce themselves. Things always come up. Remember, saving money isn’t about stockpiling or selfishness but about stewardship and preparation. When it comes to financial goals, you need a clear purpose. When you are saving for the purposes of an emergency fund, you need to recognize that money is not for your vacation fund or “play” money. It’s specifically used for emergencies.

How Much Should We Save?

A general guideline is to start with at least $1,000 in savings. The key to being financially successful is not a single decision but a series of decisions. Over time, you can continue to build up the emergency fund. Your next goal may be to build savings representing 3–6 months of essential expenses. That may seem like a lot, but start small and stay consistent. “Whoever gathers little by little will increase it” (Proverbs 13:11). To build your emergency fund, make minimum payments to all your debt obligations and take all your surplus and put it into your savings. Once you reach that initial goal of $1,000, then you can focus on debt reduction.

Clearing the debt

When I talk to people about finances, what becomes clear is that most people are in debt. If you’re free from debt, you’re already ahead of the game.

“The rich rules over the poor, and the borrower is the slave of the lender.” (Proverbs 22:7)

Debt can place you in a position of vulnerability, limit freedom, and cause anxiety. You should avoid debt when possible.

“Be not one of those who give pledges, who put up security for debts. If you have nothing with which to pay, why should your bed be taken from under you?” (Proverbs 22:26–27)

In this passage, Solomon is warning against co-signing because he doesn’t want you to overextend yourself. Now, debt isn’t a sin, but it can be a serious burden. You’ll need to evaluate what kinds of debt you have or the kind of debt you should be willing to take on.

Before we look at the categories of debt, it’s worth remembering that financial responsibility sits at the heart of discipleship. Scripture consistently shows that wise financial decisions are not merely practical—they’re spiritual acts of obedience. And in marriage, ignoring finances rarely stays “just financial.” Many couples discover that money issues in relationships reveal deeper fears, insecurities, or unspoken expectations. Learning how to handle money wisely becomes one of the primary ways you learn to love your spouse well.

First, let’s start with “good” kinds of debt. Home mortgage count toward this kind of debt. A mortgage allows you to build equity and is a great long-term asset. Unlike stocks and bonds, your investment is a physical property. Of course, you want that mortgage to be within reason. Financial experts usually say to have your mortgage payment roughly around 25% of your gross monthly income.

A quick example may help. If you’re household income is $7,000/month (gross), 25% of the income is $1,750. According to this rule, you should aim for your total mortgage, taxes, and insurance to be around $1,750.

Mortgages that exceed 35% of your gross income can be an indication you’re overextending yourself. These are not hard rules but guidelines that give you markers to watch out for. It’s about counting the cost before committing. It might be worth it to live in a smaller house and experience less stress.

Another kind of “good” debt may be a modest auto loan. I know some financial experts who are completely against auto loans. Ideally, if you can pay cash for a car, then pay cash to avoid debt. However, if you run into a situation where you can take out a modest loan for a modest car with a decent interest rate, then it may be wise to do it depending on your situation. If you don’t absolutely need a car, then don’t take out the loan.

Next up—student loans. This is a gray area for me. In general, investing in education may increase income and opportunity. But it doesn’t always work out that way. Make sure you get a degree that’s marketable and will give you opportunities. Don’t get a degree simply because you “like” the subject matter. You can study that subject during your spare time for free. If you’re going to take out student loans, then do it with a purpose.

Let’s move on to bad debt. Bad debt would be any non-essential, often depreciating thing that comes with a high interest rate. This includes credit card debt, payday loans, purchasing luxury items for status. Many people put their present and future at risk by impulsive spending without a plan. This goes back to our spiritual condition. If your spending is out of control, get to the root cause. Are we content with the Lord? Are you exercising self-control? Are you being wise?

How do I get out of debt?

“The wicked borrows but does not pay back, but the righteous is generous and gives.”– Psalm 37:21

First, acknowledge any poor stewardship, idolatry, or any insecurities you may have. Second, do not dwell in shame but pray to God, repent, and commit to a new mindset. Let the Holy Spirit do a work in your heart by transforming your mind.

Now, roll up your sleeves and get to work. Start by listing all your debts and creating a plan. There are a couple of ways to start eliminating debt. You have the popular “Debt Snowball” (Dave Ramsey Method). This is where you pay off the smallest debt first while making minimum payments on others. As each is paid off, apply that amount to the next smallest. This is designed to build momentum. As you pay off each debt, you’re motivated to continue.

A second method is the “Debt Avalanche,” where you pay off the debt with the highest interest rate first. This saves you the most in the long term. Choosing a payoff strategy is one example of how to handle finances in marriage: it requires agreement, honesty, and a shared plan.

Whatever method you choose, come to an agreement with setting limits on spending and clearly defining your needs. Remember that you need to work as a team. This is an opportunity to extend grace and patience toward one another. Seek to understand the other person’s fears and anxieties. It’s easy to know your own sacrifices because you’re the one making them. Look to see how your spouse is also making sacrifices and encourage them in those.

Investing with purpose

Paying off debt can feel like taking a heavy backpack off after a long uphill climb. But don’t waste that sweet relief. It’s time to start thinking about the future. Being debt-free is only a part of the financial plan. Wise stewardship isn’t just about avoiding disasters but about building toward the future. It’s about wisely planting seeds today that can bless your family, your church, and future generations. This is where financial responsibility begins to move from short-term survival toward long-term stability. Let’s talk about how to do that with clarity, unity, and trust in the One who holds your tomorrow.

When it comes to different investments like stocks, bonds, and mutual funds, I’m not going to talk about how they work. This would be beyond the scope of this life skill guide. When I use the word “investment(s)” I’m using it as an all-encompassing term that includes the most common investments. Consult with a financial advisor to understand the particular details of investing in different kinds of opportunities. Practicing financial responsibility also means knowing when to seek wise counsel instead of guessing your way through decisions.

In short, you should invest in something—ideally something with a good return (think 15%+). The earlier you begin the better. Also, if your place of employment offers some type of retirement matching program then take advantage of it. If they have a matching program and you’re not taking advantage of it, then you’re saying “no” to free money. Taking steps like these is one of the simplest demonstrations of financial responsibility in everyday life.

I am sometimes asked, “Should I pay off all my debt before investing?” In short, no. People usually have a mortgage while investing in their retirement accounts. But the answer to that question may vary depending on your situation. You can set a goal to pay off 75% of your consumer debt before investing. You can decide a different percentage. This is a wisdom issue and therefore a judgment call. But if the minimum payments on all your debt give you little margin, then it’s probably not time to invest yet. That reality is not meant to shame you—but to guide you into deeper financial responsibility that protects your future.

Leaving a legacy

“A good man leaves an inheritance to his children’s children, but the sinner’s wealth is laid up for the righteous.” (Proverbs 13:22)

Every couple will leave something behind. The question is not whether we will leave a legacy, but what kind of legacy it will be. Legacy is about more than passing down money or property—it’s about passing down values, faith, and a way of life that reflects God’s heart. A legacy shaped by financial responsibility becomes a testimony of God’s faithfulness, not just your planning skills.

A biblical legacy doesn’t just say, “I had enough for myself.” It says, “I stewarded what God gave me in a way that will bless others long after I’m gone.” That blessing starts in your own home and ripples outward to your church, your community, and even generations you will never meet.

When my wife and I first got married, like most couples, we didn’t have enough to purchase our own home. But my father-in-law, Phil Davis, rented his investment property to us at well below market value so we could save money for a house of our own. After a year of working hard and saving diligently, we were able to buy a home in the area.

Nearly sixteen years later, we still live in that same house. We now have four children. My wife works, but she doesn’t have to—which is a relief for her. I often think about how my father-in-law took a loss every month on his rental property to help us get started. And he did this while faithfully giving to his local church, taking visitors out to lunch, and contributing to the benevolence fund.

Tragically, he was killed in a car accident in May of 2020. Yet because he had prepared well, my mother-in-law has been provided for. I think often about how hard he worked to care for his family. After my wife and I got married, he could have easily said, “She’s not my responsibility anymore.” But he never thought that way. Instead, he continued to be generous at every opportunity. His life was a picture of quiet, steady financial responsibility rooted in love for God and others.

His generosity will be felt for the next hundred years. I would much rather have that kind of legacy than spend my life in the dark without a plan—constantly frustrated and wondering why I “can’t get ahead.” A legacy built on financial responsibility is never accidental—it is the result of long-term faithfulness and intentional stewardship.

Your legacy is not measured by the size of your bank account but by the depth of your faithfulness. And here’s the point: a legacy like his doesn’t happen by accident. It’s built through intentional stewardship, long-term vision, and a heart that sees money as a tool for blessing, not merely as a means of personal comfort.

—

Reflection Questions:

1. When was the last time you had an emergency and no money to get out of it?
2. Talk to your mentor about your debt situation. I know this can be scary but try to be transparent. Once you bring it to the light, you can get to work eliminating it.
3. Have you ever invested? If so, in what? Are you invested now? How are you growing in learning about new investment opportunities?
4. What kind of legacy do you want to leave?

—

Conclusion

Thank you for taking the time to read this life skill guide. I know your life is full, your days are busy, and your attention is pulled in a hundred different directions. The fact that you’ve invested your time to think, pray, and talk about aligning your finances with your spouse says something about the kind of future you want to build, and it reflects a growing commitment to financial responsibility in your home.

I pray this life skill guide helps you take practical steps toward unity, peace, and purpose in your financial life together. My hope is not just that you’ll have more money in the bank, but that your marriage will grow stronger, your faith will grow deeper, and your joy in God’s provision will overflow into generosity. As you apply these principles, remember that financial responsibility is not merely a skill but an expression of trust in God and care for one another.

If you remember anything from these pages, let it be this: money is temporary, but the way you steward it can have an eternal impact. Handle it together. Handle it wisely. Handle it in a way that honors the One who gave it to you in the first place. Building a life of financial responsibility is one more way of saying to God, “Everything we have is Yours.”

May the Lord bless you and keep you, give you wisdom for every decision, and fill your home with the kind of peace that comes only from walking in his ways—together.

—

About the Author

Junior Jamreonvit serves as the Director of Mens Ministry at Grace EV Free Church in La Mirada, California.

#58 Greed In The Bible: Contentment In A Material World

Part I: The Universal Quest

It’s no surprise you’re unhappy. Less surprising still that you want to be happy. Let me explain why. The author of Ecclesiastes (the Teacher, as he calls himself) set out to find “what is good for people to do under heaven during the few days of their lives” (Eccl. 2:3). But the Teacher isn’t the only one on such a journey to find happiness. God has given all people the same undertaking to find life or happiness (Eccl. 1:13). You could think of it as a quest. One of the most common aspects of fantasy or myth is the quest. There’s some kind of problem that can only be resolved by means of a mission. A council is held in Rivendell to determine the fate of the Ring. Elrond rightly declares it must be destroyed in Mount Doom. Little Frodo bravely volunteers to take it, and the rest of the trilogy is that: a quest against the Nazgul and Orcs, temptation, and physical trial, all to save Middle-Earth.²

The first half of Ecclesiastes is basically the Teacher’s quest. He’s not out to destroy a ring or recover lost treasure, though. More significant than these, his is a quest for meaning and happiness in life. And the primary tool the Teacher utilizes is wisdom. The book of Ecclesiastes is all about his attempt to experience and then to weigh, consider, and tell us what he found.

He sought happiness by pursuing and enjoying all of the same things you’re inclined to try (Eccl. 2:1-11). He amassed wealth and properties. He tried wine, wisdom, folly, and sex. He threw parties. He employed masses. He grew in reputation and standing.

You name it, he had it. He saw, desired it, and acquired it (Eccl. 2:10). He didn’t withhold from himself anything. And when it was all said and done, he considered all that he had accomplished, and he found that it was “futile and a pursuit of the wind” (Eccl. 2:11). Your translation may say vain or meaningless. The point is, it left him frustrated.

In fact, if you study the text, you’ll find that it’s loaded with language from Genesis 1 and 2. In a world marked by death, injustice, oppression, loneliness, monotony, and heartache, he walled himself inside of paradise. He tried to recreate Eden without prohibitions like “but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat” (Gen. 2:17). But unlike God, who surveyed his creation and called it very good, the Teacher looked at his garden and called it bad: futile and a pursuit of the wind.

Note: he acquired all that you probably desire and more. It was not enough. The reason we’re often so frustrated is that we’re trying to live Genesis 1 in a Genesis 3 world. Trying to gain life in the things of the world is a bit like trying to catch the wind. The second you grasp it; you open your hands to find it as empty as your heart. The pursuit of life is elusive and fleeting; it’s like trying to catch and cling to smoke.

And so, why are you discontent? On some level, you’re trying to find happiness, life, meaning, and value in the world. And so, you’re always pursuing but never arriving. 

The Teacher wants you to learn from his experience. Of course, you’re tempted to think the payout will be different for you. But the only reason you’ve not drawn the same conclusion as him is that you’ve not had the same experience as him. To be frank, you’re probably not at the apex of anything. You’re inclined to think you’ll finally be happy if you get that raise, if you get that degree, if you get that house, because you still stand to gain so much. The Teacher didn’t have that excuse, and that’s why he’s the perfect guinea pig in the quest for happiness.

All your life’s pursuits can be likened to walking up a winding stairwell—there are people ahead of you in all of them, the work is exhausting, and because the stairwell twists, you can’t see when you’ll make it to the end. There’s always more money to be made. More followers to be gained. More sex to be had. Newer tech to buy. You follow those ahead of you, thinking, like them, that soon you’ll make it to the top, but you never do.

The Teacher didn’t have your problem. He led in every stairwell, and with such a great distance between him and the closest follower that he could see he was nowhere nearer the end. He was able to reflect on his experience in a way so few can: will one more property do what the last 30 didn’t? Am I really just one party away from being satisfied? One concubine. One more household servant. He began to see that the math wasn’t adding up.   Blaise Pascal says that this always-striving-never-reaching experience is “so uniform it should certainly convince us of our inability to reach the good by our own efforts. But example teaches us little. . . And thus, while the present never satisfies us, experience dupes us, and from misfortune to misfortune leads us to death.”³

You just keep climbing the stairs, going nowhere until you die. Like the Sun, every day you return to your starting place, out of breath, but never stopping to ask if you’ve made it anywhere (Eccl. 1:5). You haven’t.

So, let me ask you, if you gained all you wanted, would it guarantee your happiness?

It won’t. It can’t. The Teacher had it all (all that you want) and found it wasn’t enough.

—

Reflection Questions:

1. Have you ever gained what you most wanted only to find it was never enough? What did that feel like?
2. What does it look like for you to be cultivating contentment in this season of your life?

—

Part Two: Out of Place and Time

So it’s clear that God has assigned this universal quest for happiness, but how? I, for one, don’t recall sitting down with the Human Resources of Heaven for this job assignment.

God has hardwired it into us. It’s how he made you.

After delivering a poem on the seasons of life (made famous by funerals and Turn! Turn! Turn! by The Byrds), the Teacher explains why we find life in time so frustrating.

First, he repeats that God has given the children of Adam this task (of finding what’s good to do) to keep them occupied (Eccl. 3:10). It’s an inherently frustrating task because, as his list of seasons demonstrates, life begins at birth and ends at death. More than that, everything in between feels like an oscillation between the two. Life is made up of planting and uprooting, of killing and healing, of tearing down and building, of weeping and laughing, of mourning and dancing, of embracing and estrangement, and more (Eccl. 3:1-8).

We want all of life to be laughing and dancing. But life is more like dancing with someone you love at a wedding and then weeping that the person you’ve danced with has died.

The brokenness of the world exacerbates our discontentment. The things we think we need to make us happy are so often stripped from us. And no matter how hard we try, we can’t stop them from being taken away (Eccl. 3:14). This reality is a key part of what does the Bible say about money—that it is fleeting and cannot provide ultimate security.

This is, of course, why Jesus tells us not to store up treasures for ourselves on earth, where moth, rust, and thieves destroy and steal, but rather in heaven (Matt. 6:19-20). This is perhaps the most famous love of money Bible verse context, warning us that our hearts follow our treasure. The frustration we feel when we lose is meant to teach us something about the world and ourselves. My pen doesn’t care whether it’s being used, or in a drawer with other pens, or is lost or found. But you do. There’s something different about how God has made you. Exploring a Christian perspective on minimalism and simple living can help us align our lifestyle with this heavenly focus.

After delivering his poem on the time around us, and after repeating man’s MO (the universal quest of life), the Teacher finally speaks to why—the “time” within us:

God “has also put eternity in their hearts” (Eccl. 3:11).

God has made you different, and it makes you different from everything around you. There is a specific Biblical principles of money management found in recognizing that we are stewards of temporary things while belonging to an eternal Kingdom.

There’s an iconic scene in The Lion King that comes after Nala has confronted Simba with his lack of responsibility for his people. Simba experiences an existential crisis as he deals with the guilt of his father’s death, his confusion about his identity, and what responsibility he bears toward his people.

Mufasa appears to Simba in the clouds and calls to his son (try your best to read it as James Earl Jones would):

Simba, you have forgotten me. You have forgotten who you are, and so you have forgotten me. Look inside yourself, Simba. You are more than what you have become. You must take your place in the circle of life. Remember who you are. You are my son. The one true king, remember.

Mufasa calls Simba inward and to the past in order to arouse him to the present. There is a mismatch between who and what Simba is and the way he’s living. If he looks inside and backward, he’ll find that this is true. This mismatch is often seen in our struggle with materialism in the Bible, where we try to fill an eternal hole with temporal “stuff.”

Do you know how many lions in the history of the world have looked up to the stars in existential angst? How many meercats have contemplated what they are? How many warthogs have had to remember their identity?

Not a single one.

Do you know how many healthy adults have pondered the meaning of life? How many of us have wondered, “What is the point of all of this?” How many have probed, “Why am I here?” How many have asked, “What happens when we die?” These questions are at the heart of teaching children about money and greed—helping them see that their value isn’t found in their possessions. This understanding is vital for those wondering, “can a Christian be rich and go to Heaven?” The answer lies not in the amount of wealth, but in the orientation of the heart toward eternity.

Do you know how many cultures in history have sought to answer questions about the meaning of life: How did we get here? Where are we going? Why aren’t things the way they’re supposed to be? Will and how will all things be made well?

The human race collectively groans at its misery on Earth. It knows it was made for more than the world can offer.

You see, all creatures live in time. You can measure a rock’s existence in time. You can measure a plant’s life in time. You can measure a dog’s life in time. All created things are in time, but humans are unique in that, in some strange sense, time has been put in us.

The only living thing on the planet that is discontent is man because God created us for more than we currently have. The dog is content with his bone. The plant has its light. But we were made for more than material can offer.

Your always-striving-never-reaching quest for happiness (the inward look) should lead you to discern (after looking back) that we were made for more. Pascal writes that our inability to satisfy ourselves with the things around us should lead us to conclude “that there was once in man a true happiness of which there now remains to him only the mark and empty trace, which he in vain tries to fill from all his surroundings. . . But these are all inadequate, because the infinite abyss can only be filled by an infinite and immutable object, that is to say, only by God Himself.”⁴

Trying to be satisfied with another raise, a different house, or more followers on social media is like trying to reach infinity by adding ones (or better yet, zeros) together. The math doesn’t add up.

If you’re unhappy, it’s likely because you think you lack something. What you lack cannot be arrived at by gaining more of what’s in the world. Death will ensure all of it will be stripped from you, for starters. You were made for God, and your heart knows it.

God has put eternity in your heart. It’s the knowledge of God, but more like a memory. We could liken it to homesickness. I’m sure you have memories as a child being dropped off at a grandparent’s house, a cousin’s house, or a friend’s house. It was fun at first, but over time, the familial and cultural differences began to rub. The sights, sounds, smells, and customs make you feel alienated. You think to yourself, “We do that differently at my house.” “This is not what it’s like at my home.” With every encounter of distinction, you’re pushed away from that home and drawn back to your own.

That’s part of what God is doing with the seasons of life the Teacher shows us in the poem (the dying, uprooting, mourning, weeping, losing, estrangement, hate, and war). The negative or unfavorable seasons are intended to make you, in a sense, discontent with the things of earth—homesick. Our problem is that when we experience them, we tend to double down in our efforts to gain on earth. We work harder to make God’s gifts do what they cannot, often failing to see how to be happy with what you have biblically. And yet, they’re supposed to teach you to do the opposite. Every encounter with death, every uprooting, every time you have to mourn and weep, every time you’re estranged, or hated—they’re all intended to lead your heart away from this place: “This is not what it’s like in my home.”

And the favorable seasons of life—the living, laughing, dancing, loving, building, embracing, and peaceful—they remind your heart, “this feels like home.” This dual feeling of what isn’t right and of what is, and yet never being able to reach it, is often likened to nostalgia by Christian and non-Christian thinkers alike. That is, the feeling that we were made for more, that we almost remember it, but we somehow can’t reach it, is so universal that there is a term for it. Recognizing this is a powerful step in overcoming financial anxiety with faith, as we realize our true security is not found in earthly wealth.

CS Lewis describes it this way: Apparently, then, our lifelong nostalgia, our longing to be reunited with something in the universe from which we now feel cut off, to be on the inside of some door which we have always seen from the outside, is no mere neurotic fancy, but the truest index of our real situation. And to be at last summoned inside would be both glory and honor beyond all our merits, and also the healing of that old ache.⁵

You were made to be happy. Your heart knows it. It almost remembers it. The problem is you’re looking in the wrong place.

What we need, then, is not a change in circumstances (not normally, anyhow) but a change in perspective. God’s temporal gifts cannot provide the permanent peace your heart craves. They’re just meant to be enjoyed for what they are and nothing more as you travel home.

The first step to being content, then, is lowering your expectations for what the world can do for you.

Imagine two different people building sandcastles. One man thinks it will be his actual home. You can imagine his determination. The sweat on his brow. The anxiety. The anger. The outbursts every time the wind, wave, or toddler knocks it down.

If you saw him, you might laugh or grimace. You’d analyze the situation with wisdom. He’s chosen foolish means (a sandcastle) toward a good end (a home).

The other man has the same circumstances. The same sand, water, wind, and waves. And yet he has perspective. He understands that the sandcastle is temporary. He doesn’t need it to live. And so, with shovel in hand and a good drink in the other (Eccl. 9:7), he builds with his kids, knowing it will not last, and yet, he enjoys it for what it is while it is.

Again, Jesus tells us:

19 “Don’t store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal. 20 But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves don’t break in and steal. 21 For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. – Matthew 6:19-21 (CSB)

And then our Lord adds to his instruction:

24 “No one can serve two masters, since either he will hate one and love the other, or he will be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money. — Matthew 6:24 (CSB)

So often our discontentment is rooted in the love of money because we expect it to do for us what only God can do. Christ warns that you cannot serve both. I think part of what the Teacher aims to show through his teaching on wealth is that you can’t be served by both. Only one can offer you protection, security, peace, life, and joy: money or God. One offers fool’s gold; the other, eternal riches. 

—

Reflection Questions:

1. What separates humans from the rest of the world with regards to time?
2. What do our longings tell us about what/who we’re made for?
3. How does having too high an expectation for this world set us up for failure?

—

Part III: Increased Cravings

How is it that the Teacher was able to amass properties, gardens, household servants, concubines, entertainers, reputation, and more? One word: money. So much of our discontent often lies at the feet of finances. We want more, and we think it can deliver.

The problem is, as we’ve already seen, finite things can’t fill the infinite void.

The Teacher addresses this problem head-on in Chapters 5 and 6.

5:10 The one who loves silver is never satisfied with silver, and whoever loves wealth is never satisfied with income. This too is futile.

6:7 All of a person’s labor is for his stomach, yet the appetite is never satisfied.

You know the feeling, I’m sure, of being starving and the relief and satisfaction that come with eating.

You have a built-in appetite by design. And not just for money (it’s actually the things you think money provides). More fundamentally, you desire happiness, peace, permanence, value—in a word: life. This is the core of finding contentment in a consumer culture christian.

Unlike eating food and satisfying your hunger, the person who looks to silver or wealth to do what only God can do is never fulfilled. Trying to satisfy your heart with income is like chasing the wind and then trying to get full on what you caught. No matter how many handfuls of air you eat, you’ll never fill up. Understanding this is central to what does the Bible say about greed.

Money sees the hole in your heart and says I can fill that if you just chase me. But it can’t do what it promises. This deceptive promise is the Spirit of greed in the Bible.

I have a four-year-old daughter. She regularly asks her three older siblings and her parents, “Is today tomorrow?” We all get a kick out of it. The kids especially love answering her, “no.”

I’ve tried my hardest to explain to her that today is not tomorrow and that it’s not possible. With every one of our replies and reproofs, she grows in anger. “NO, IS IT TOMORROW TODAY?!” I understand why she’s upset. She went to bed on some kind of promise—we’re going to the pool tomorrow, for example. And so she wakes up to ask, “Is it tomorrow?” Meaning, is it time for my promise? When we tell her it’s not tomorrow, she hears us pushing her promise back.

Wealth makes you the same promise every day—if you pursue me, I’ll make you happy tomorrow. The problem is that it always pushes back what’s been promised. You’ll find that you actually need one more raise to feel joy. You actually need a little more in the 401K to feel secure. You actually need a larger emergency fund to have peace. This endless chase is why trusting God with finances in uncertain times is the only way to find real stability.

Trying to be satisfied with silver is like going on a walk and trying to make it to the horizon, but it just keeps moving further back. You keep chasing after it, but you find yourself chasing the wind under a different name. This realization highlights the is greed a sin question—it’s not just a moral failure, but a futile attempt to find life where it doesn’t exist.

It doesn’t matter if you make fifty thousand a year or fifty million. It doesn’t matter what your starting number is or your potential for monetary growth—if money is the goal, you’ll never be happy. In a very tangible, material kind of way, you’re trying to add up to the infinite. You cannot add up enough dollars to fill up the infinite in your heart—in truth, you’re draining your heart.

Here’s the problem with greed. It’s not just that money doesn’t satisfy you; it’s that it actually increases your appetite. Pursuing money, thinking it will fulfill you, is like drinking saltwater from the sea. It only adds to your thirst. It only dehydrates you more. Or, you could liken it to a drug addiction, you need more to do what a little used to do. If you’re living for a bonus, but this year’s is half the size of last year’s, the surplus somehow feels like a loss. Few people happily lower their standards of living. Greed has a draining effect on the soul. Neither money nor the things it can buy can guarantee happiness because happiness is not for sale. It’s a gift.

—

Reflection Questions:

1. How does money uniquely trick you into thinking that if you only had more, your problems would go away?
2. How does knowing happiness is a gift rather than a right change your perspective?

—

Part IV: Discontent with a Little and Discontent with a Lot

In chapters 5 and 6, the Teacher tells a story about a man who had everything and yet was unhappy (Eccl. 5:10). His wealth attracted the wrong kinds of people (Eccl. 5:11). His ventures produced anxiety (Eccl. 5:12). He lacked sleep (Eccl. 5:12). He lacked friends (Eccl. 4:7) and most ironic of all, he lacked what he thought money could buy—joy.

But, this man didn’t just have money, he had the Old Testament dream: add to the wealth, children and a long life (Eccl. 6:3). And yet, he wasn’t satisfied.

Grammy and Academy Award-winning Will Smith recently gave an interview where he spoke not about hitting “rock bottom” but a corresponding place he calls “cliff top.”

He says it’s “when you get so high that you realize. . .  literally none of the stuff can make you happy. . . You can get to the end of the material world. You get to the end of money. You get to the end of sex. You get to the end of fame. You have so much. . . and then you go like off a cliff and into an abyss. . . where life loses all of its ability to sustain and please you.”

It’s possible to have everything and find out it’s not enough. That’s what the Teacher has. That’s what it sounds like Will Smith has or had.

No matter how long he lives, if he is not satisfied by good things and does not even have a proper burial, I say that a stillborn child is better off than he — Ecclesiastes 6:3 (CSB)

This man’s life is somehow worse than death. Mel Gibson’s William Wallace was right: all men die, but not all men live. You can be alive and not really live. And this man, from the eyes of the world, has everything to live, and yet is dead inside.

He was discontent with a lot. And then he lost all of his money in a bad venture (Eccl. 5:14; 6:2). Now, he is discontent with a little. He’s hit rock bottom.

15 As he came from his mother’s womb, so he will go again, naked as he came; he will take nothing for his efforts that he can carry in his hands. . . 17 What is more, he eats in darkness all his days, with much frustration, sickness, and anger. — Ecclesiastes 5:15-17 (CSB)

He eats alone in the dark, unwilling to burn a candle because he’s hoarding what little oil he has. You see the imagery. Though he is under the sun, he lives in the darkness, anticipating the grave to which he goes.

The Teacher is showing us a double tragedy in the pursuit of happiness through wealth. It makes you miserable in the making and miserable in the losing. Miserable in the making: anxious, sleepless, friendless, always pursuing but never arriving. Now miserable in the losing. The irony is, the man who lost it all was nowhere nearer to happiness when he was rich, because material possessions are not a prerequisite for joy. But because he tethered his happiness to material wealth, now that he’s poor, he’s even further away from being happy.

Note: not only can wealth not buy you happiness, but the love of it will require from you what little joy you might have possessed.

What is the solution?

The Teacher tells us:

6 Better one handful with rest than two handfuls with effort and a pursuit of the wind.

This is Ecclesiastes’ version of “one in the hand, two in the bush.” It’s better to be content with what you have in one hand than to pursue what you don’t have with two hands and guarantee the loss of what you really need—rest.

To be clear, the issue is not money in itself—it’s the love of money. It’s the thinking that money will do for you what only God can. The love of money often underlies our discontent, as it promises to fulfill every other desire. But it can’t.

It’s better to be content with what you have (what God has given) so you can experience what you really want and need—joy.

The key to being content, then, is twofold: it’s thinking rightly about the things you have (and don’t have) and being rightly related to the one who gives them.

Joy is not something that can be gained by more striving. It’s a gift from God right now.

—

Reflection Questions:

1. What is the ‘everything’ you’re tempted to seek from this world? What do you think would make you finally happy?
2. How does not being satisfied with everything guarantee you won’t be satisfied with nothing?

—

Part Five: Samples from Heaven

In contrast to the man who had everything (and was miserable) and then lost it (and was equally miserable), the Teacher tells us about a man whom God gave “riches and wealth” and “allowed him to enjoy them, take his reward, and rejoice in his labor” (Eccl. 5:19). This is a central theme in Bible verses about wealth, showing that the outcome depends on the heart.

Notice that riches and wealth don’t necessarily mean happiness and rest (which is why we can be discontent or content regardless of how much we have). God must give the joy. In fact, God gives gifts for the same reason fathers give gifts—to bring their children joy. It is also the gift of God whenever anyone eats, drinks, and enjoys all his efforts (Eccl. 3:19). The problem comes when we’re unsatisfied with what God has given (Eccl. 6:3, 7). This dissatisfaction is one of the spiritual symptoms of a greedy heart.

I’m risking redundancy, but it’s worth repeating: what matters is not your circumstances but your perspective. The key to being content or happy is lowering your expectations of the world and increasing your expectations of God. This is the foundation of how to be happy with what you have biblically. If you look to wealth and riches, food and drink, friends and work, and wine, to do for you what only God can, you’ll be unhappy. If you receive them for what they are and nothing more, you can enjoy them. This is a vital lesson in Biblical principles of money management.

My wife and I have four kids, and so we do most of our shopping at the only place that can reasonably stock our pantry and fridge these days: Costco (if you’re unfamiliar, it’s a store with a cult-like following for its high-quality products, bulk items, and good prices). One of the best things about Costco is the free samples. Imagine being at Costco and standing in line for a sample. Now imagine someone in front of you eats their one-tenth of a slice of a pizza cooked in a microwave and begins to frantically yell at the samples person.

“I’M STILL HUNGRY!”

“I’M STILL HUNGRY AND THIS PIZZA IS TERRIBLE!”

A bit like watching the fool on the beach with his sandcastle house, you observe this interaction with wisdom or perspective. You know the samples are not meant to fill you. That was not the promise. They’re just little gifts. A Christian perspective on minimalism and simple living helps us treat earthly goods exactly like these samples.

If you eat half a bagel bite at Costco thinking it was going to be a full pie from Una Pizza Napoletana in NYC, you’re going to be disappointed. Frustrated. Discontent. That’s how the Teacher looks at our attempts to find security, value, peace, permanence, life, and joy from money in the Bible, work, reputation, followers, sex, new tech, knowledge, folly, and more. We partake with frustration, not grasping that the samples aren’t meant to fill us. They’re to be received for what they are and nothing more: little gifts from heaven to be enjoyed as we journey home. This helps us understand what does the Bible say about greed—it is the mistake of trying to live on the sample.

In what areas of your life are you discontent? At the bottom of your discontentment is the belief (the lie) that gaining some material gift can give you what you think God currently does not. Does not history and God’s Word teach you differently? They won’t satisfy. God alone can. In what ways are you trying to make heaven’s gifts more than they are?

Here’s the thing about a sample: they’re just that—a sampling of the bigger and better thing. If you like it, you can go to the source for more. If the little pizza scratches the itch, you can buy the box. The point of the gifts is that we might enjoy them for what they are and that we might lift our gaze to the Father of Lights from whom they came (Jas. 1:17). This is the true path to finding contentment in a consumer culture christian.

—

Reflection Questions:

1. What is the problem with fixing our happiness to our circumstances rather than our perspective?
2. If gifts aren’t meant to replace God, what good are they? How should we go about thinking about gifts?

—

Part VI: Empty Hands, Full Hearts

Part of the Teacher’s burden is to give you a new horizon for living. Shockingly, it’s death. Death and God’s judgment, to be more precise (Eccl. 11:8-9). He’s trying to awaken you to the fact that you’re going to die, and it’s coming soon. Your time here is like the smoke that lingers after you blow out a candle.

Part of his strategy for helping you meet death head-on is getting you to stop distracting yourself (money, entertainment, work, etc.). He pulls back the veil on all the things we use to insulate ourselves from our impending date with death so we can be wise for life.

If you’re familiar with the wisdom literature (think Proverbs in particular), they aim to captivate you with God’s wisdom and order. What vexes the author of Ecclesiastes is the exceptions. The race doesn’t always go to the swift, the battle to the strong, the bread to the wise, the promotion to the deserving, death to the wicked, and so on (Eccl. 9:11). Life doesn’t make sense or feel fair. And the exclamation point on life’s absurdity is death. It doesn’t matter if you’re rich or poor, wise or foolish, wicked or righteous—all will die (Eccl. 9:2-3). Death is the great equalizer.

Death doesn’t discriminate between the sinners and the saints—it takes and it takes and it takes. Something about that doesn’t feel right. Though, of course, the Christian understands this is fair. Death is the wages of sin (Rom. 6:23). Sin is the ultimate act of discontentment. Adam thought he could be like God, and now man dies like the dogs.

The wonderful news of the gospel, of course, is that God condescended by becoming man. Further still, he became obedient to the point of death on the cross. In doing so, he suffered for the sins of his people, dying that they might live.

Death becomes, for the Christian, then, not something to fear but the doorway to greater life, and so it becomes our teacher today. Death has at least two important lessons to teach us that lead to contentment.

First, death will strip everything from you. You will die as poor as when you were born. Naked you came and naked you’ll go (Eccl. 5:15).

Ecclesiastes opens this way:

1 The words of the Teacher, son of David, king in Jerusalem.

2 “Absolute futility,” says the Teacher.

“Absolute futility. Everything is futile.”

3 What does a person gain for all his efforts

that he labors at under the sun? — Ecclesiastes 1:1-3

The Teacher’s question is rhetorical, making the answer as painful as it is obvious. What do we stand to gain under the sun? Nothing.

We cannot gain here because the world will not satisfy us while we’re in it, and death will ensure we have no surplus at the end. Once it’s all said and done, death will ensure our accounts read zero. All we strove to amass will be stripped away (Eccl. 2:21; Matt. 21:43).

Here’s death’s first lesson. If the things you amass on earth can’t stop you from dying and will be taken from you at death, they can’t give you life. A nicer home, a newer car, and a high-paying job cannot extend your life (quantitatively) or guarantee that you’ll live before you die (qualitatively).

Christ makes this point in John chapter 6:

After seeing Christ multiply bread and fish to feed 5,000+, the crowds tracked him down. They miss the point of the sign (the sample), however, and simply want their stomachs filled. Christ has a better gift in mind: namely, himself—the bread of heaven that leaves you never hungry again and guarantees your victory over the grave. That’s something no loaf of sourdough can do. That’s something no degree, no income, no vacation, or pair of shoes can do. Christ offers life, eternal life, yes, the happy life, as a gift. Which means it’s not something to be earned or gained, but simply received from him. It also means it’s something that can’t be taken by death. In fact, the Christian finds that death is the one place where they actually gain because they get Christ (Phil. 1:21).

The bread multiplied by Christ had a dual effect. It was meant to be enjoyed as bread. And it was meant to lift the crowd’s gaze to the bread of heaven, Jesus Christ.

The teaching of the New Testament regularly works to lift our gaze from the gifts to the giver:

Notice, there is a bit of a rebounding effect. When you focus less on the things you think you need (here, they’re actual needs like food and clothing, but we can expand the list on the principle) and look to God for provision, we get something better—God. And because God is a good Father, we also get the things we need (and so often, much, much more).

When you increase your expectations for God, when you find your satisfaction in Christ, when you store up treasure in heaven, you find yourself content with the things of earth because you don’t need them. You already have the life and peace, and security, and permanence, and joy you long for. And so, you are freed up to enjoy God’s gifts for what they are and nothing more.

—

Reflection Questions:

1. Tell your mentor about a time when you realized that Jesus alone is better than all the world has to offer.
2. How does the certainty of death and the promise of eternal life change your perspective on accumulating more and more material possessions?

—

Part VII: Eat and Drink for Tomorrow We Die

Once your expectations are rightly set for both God and his gifts, you’re able to enjoy and be content with your station and stuff in life.

The second lesson Death wants to teach you is to enjoy today. Not tomorrow, but today.

What a shame to spend your entire life discontent, looking to the future when you can finally be happy.

Because you were made for so much more than you are experiencing in this world (eternity in the heart), your inclination is going to be to try to find Eden now, though not in God but in his gifts. And because none of those gifts can deliver what you want, you’re inclined to think you’re just a few steps away from arriving. And so, the discontent person is always living for tomorrow, anxious for tomorrow, working for tomorrow, and never enjoying today (and, spoiler alert: tomorrow never comes).

Pascal puts it this way:

God is so generous toward his children, giving us all that we need in Christ and more. He gives us food and drink and work and friends that we might enjoy them (Eccl. 3:15). And yet, like the toddler complaining at the table, we spurn his generosity, thinking we deserve today what’s not promised tomorrow.

Discontentment is a vicious cycle. If we only ever live for tomorrow’s home, tomorrow’s promotion, tomorrow’s degree, and family—we’ll only ever have anxiety and restlessness today. Like the man in chapters 5 and 6, who was miserable in the making and in the losing, the discontent person never enjoys today and never reaches “tomorrow.” They’re living for tomorrow’s wind but never catch it.

And, as the Teacher is eager to show, your life is a vapor. You’re running out of tomorrows quickly. Don’t do that, never having enjoyed today.

There’s a better way to live—receive this day as a gift from God. As seen above, if you’re satisfied in Christ, you don’t need more gifts, and so you’re freed up to enjoy what you have.

Listen to the apostle Paul as he draws from Death’s instruction:

Note how Paul draws the same lesson from death. Naked we came. Naked we’ll go. Don’t bank your life on things death will strip. Rather, if you have enough to eat and wear, you can be content. Paul’s “standard of living” in one sense is very low. In another sense, it couldn’t be higher. The reason he’s satisfied is because he has Christ.

Paul lowered his expectations of the world as he increased his expectations of God.

If Paul’s description of the good life—gaining Christ even while losing all other things (Phil 2:7-8)—seems bare bones, it’s because you’re still expecting too much from the world and not enough from God. It’s when you’re satisfied in Christ that you don’t need more than him, food, and clothing. Anything else is a tremendous blessing from God, given to be enjoyed.

And so, for all of Ecclesiastes’ ostensibly grim outlook on life under the sun (you’re going to die, the world is broken, you won’t be remembered), he offers one repeated application. Seven times, he pops his head above the clouds to give insight from heaven:

These passages only make sense when you grasp the keys to contentment in each hand. Food, drink, work, marriage, and the lot won’t give you life. God eagerly and generously looks to give you life. When you grasp both and are satisfied in Christ, you experience the “rebounding” effect whereby you can actually enjoy the things you were once tempted to find life in. And rather than viewing them as means for tomorrow’s happiness, you can enjoy them today.

Happiness is God’s gift today.

—

Reflection Questions:

1. What stops you from enjoying today and its gifts?
2. In what ways are you tempted to be discontent?

—

Conclusion

So let me ask you again, are you happy? If not, why? I’m guessing it’s because you lack something you think you need. It’s because the thing you lack you think will do for you today what you think God is not already offering you. This realization is the cornerstone of finding contentment in a consumer culture christian.

What is the solution? Lower your expectations for the things of the world. Increase them for God. If you have food and clothing and God, you have enough. You have more than enough even. You have the infinite one who fills the gap of your heart. And you have (probably) more temporal gifts than you need, which he’s given you to enjoy as you travel to meet him face to face. This is the heart of how to be happy with what you have biblically.

The question is, is that enough for you?

Hear Paul again, keeping in mind that there is nothing to gain in the world (material things can’t satisfy and will be stripped at death). His words stand in sharp contrast to the materialism in the Bible that leads only to vanity:

7 But everything that was a gain to me, I have considered to be a loss because of Christ. 8 More than that, I also consider everything to be a loss in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. Because of him I have suffered the loss of all things and consider them as dung, so that I may gain Christ 9 and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own from the law, but one that is through faith in Christ — the righteousness from God based on faith. 10 My goal is to know him and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of his sufferings, being conformed to his death, 11 assuming that I will somehow reach the resurrection from among the dead. — Philippians 3:7-11 (CSB) Gain is possible only in Christ. He alone can satisfy. He alone conquers the grave. When we stop overcoming financial anxiety with faith by looking at our bank accounts and start looking at Him, we find peace. This Christian perspective on minimalism and simple living isn’t about having nothing, but about having everything in Christ. Find satisfaction in him, and you can have contentment in all things.

End Notes

1. Bobby Jamieson, Everything is Never Enough (New York: Waterbrook, 2025, x).
2. If you’re not following, you would be well served by reading or watching J.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings!
3. Blaise Pascal, Pensees, 425. https://www.ccel.org/ccel/pascal/pensees.viii.html.
4. Pascal, Pensees, 425, https://www.ccel.org/ccel/pascal/pensees.viii.html.
5. C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory (San Francisco: Harper,1980), pp. 41-45.
6. Pascal, Pensees, 172, https://www.ccel.org/ccel/pascal/pensees/pensees.iii.html.

About the Author

John Sarver John Sarver serves as a pastor at Midtown Baptist Church in Memphis, Tennessee. He is married to his wife, Jessica, and together they have four children.

#49 Debt-Free Living: A Biblical Guide to Financial Freedom

Part I: What Does the Bible Say About Stewardship

When I was a kid, my papaw gave me one of his old western cowboy boots. Not a pair of boots—just one. The catch was that the boot was full to the brim with spare change. It weighed an easy thirty pounds! To an eight-year-old that may as well have been a million bucks! I remember counting the total sum several times. I kept it in a safe place. I was so excited. I still have the boot… but I don’t have the money.

You see, after a few months with the coins vacation bible school came rolling around. That year we were doing a coin drive and it was boys versus girls. Whoever raised the most had bragging rights for an entire year. In a youth group of only eight kids, bragging rights were pretty valuable! After two nights of VBS, we were down however many pounds it was to the girls. So I said to my mom, “I am going to give my boot tonight.” To my surprise, she wasn’t pleased. “Your papaw gave that to you to save. Maybe just give some of the coins and save the rest?” Was my mom telling me not to give to the church? Was it better that I keep it all for myself?

These are kid versions of the kinds of questions we should all be asking as followers of Jesus. What does Jesus expect of us as his followers when it comes to using our money? More than that, how should Christians even think about money? The good news is that the Bible has a ton to say about our coins and our credit cards and all our money in between.

The Bible has so much to say, in fact, that this guide is not long enough to capture every point and principle it has on offer. And yet, I want to begin this guide thinking about a few prominent principles concerning stewardship before getting into some of the nitty-gritty bits of how to save and spend wisely. Why? Because, in the end, it’s not about your wealth nor is it about mine. It is about God’s glory and our being faithful to him alone. If you lose sight of this, then your pursuit of wealth will almost certainly end in idolatry which is spiritually deadly. Rather than financial freedom, you’ll be in spiritual prison. So, before we talk about your money . . . let’s talk about guarding your heart.

I’ve selected twenty-five verses from Scripture and arranged them under seven points. As you consider these in your mentorship group, be sure to stop along the way and reflect on whether or not your life is characterized by God’s instruction on money and stewardship.

First, Christians are called to trust God to meet their needs. 

— “Behold, God is my salvation; I will trust and will not be afraid; for the Lord God is my strength and my sons, and he has become my salvation.” – Isaiah 12:2
— “Give us this day our daily bread.” – Matthew 6:11
— “Woe to those who go down to Egypt for help and rely on horses, who trust in chariots because they are many and in horsemen because they are strong, but do not look to the Holy One of Israel or consult the Lord!” – Isaiah 31:1

In these verses, we learn that from salvation all the way down to what we eat and how we protect ourselves is from the Lord. We must trust in him for all that we need. After all, he has promised that he is fully committed to using everything in our lives for our eternal good. Do you doubt that? Simply look to Jesus, God’s own Son, who was offered up as a ransom for all who believe. If God did not spare his own Son, how can we doubt that he will make sure that everything else is taken care of? This is the foundation of trusting God in hard times.

What does this mean for our money? It means that our money comes from God and we should always trust him to supply what we need. Sometimes this means wealth. In God’s providence, it may also mean loss. In either case, we can trust the Lord to give us what we need. After all, he knows what we need better than we do.

Second, Christians are called to work hard as unto the Lord.

— “Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ. For the wrongdoer will be paid back for the wrong he has done, and there is no partiality.” Colossians 3:23-25
— “Commit your work to the Lord, and your plans will be established.” – Proverbs 16:3
— “I said in my heart, God will judge the righteous and the wicked, for there is a time for every matter and for every work.” – Ecclesiastes 3:17

Trusting the Lord to meet our needs doesn’t mean we shouldn’t work hard. In fact, God regularly called us to work in order that we may have our needs supplied. So, which is it? God supplies or we work? Well, it’s both. God supplies through our work. This is a central part of financial discipline in the Bible. “Wait a minute,” you may be thinking, “if I work why does God get the credit?” Well, I assume you realize that your entire life is a gift given you by God, right? You wouldn’t have a hand to raise in work if you didn’t have a Creator who gave it to you.

But there’s another reason that God should be given credit for meeting our every need. As is clear in the verses above, God demands that we approach our work as unto him. This means that we work for him and in order to display him to the world. Our work is, therefore, a testimony to our gracious God who gives us all things.

Third, Christians give out of their abundance.

— “Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.” 2 Corinthians 9:7
— “Give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. For with the measure you use it will be measured back to you.” Luke 6:38
— “For in a severe test of affliction, their abundance of joy and their extreme poverty have overflowed in a wealth of generosity on their part.” 2 Corinthians 8:2
— “But Peter said, “I have no silver and gold, but what I do have I give to you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk!” Acts 3:6
— “As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace.” – 1 Peter 4:10

God has given us so much. Part of showing loyalty to him means that we should give to God and others out of the abundance of what he has given us. This is the heart of generosity in the Bible. We should consider all that we have—Jesus and everything else—and seek to give it back to God and others.

Fourth, Christians give to support the ministry of their local church. 

— “Honor the Lord with your wealth and with the first fruits of all your produce.” – Proverbs 3:9
— “In all things I have shown you that by working hard in this way we must help the weak and remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he himself said, ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.” – Acts 20:35
— “For if the readiness is there, it is acceptable according to what a person has, not according to what he does not have.” – 2 Corinthians 8:12
— “Bring the full tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. And thereby put me to the test, says the Lord of hosts, if I will not open the windows of heaven for you and pour down for you a blessing until there is no more need.” – Malachi 3:10

I want to encourage you to always start your giving with your local church. This aligns with the principles of tithing in the Bible. By giving to your local church, you’re investing in your own spiritual growth and helping make disciples, which is the explicit responsibility of every gospel-preaching church.

Fifth, Christians are expected to give to the needs of others as they are able.

— “Thus, when you give to the needy, sound no trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may be praised by others. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you.” Matthew 6:2-4
— “Sell your possessions, and give to the needy. Provide yourselves with moneybags that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” – Luke 12:33-34
— “All day long [the sluggard] craves and craves, but the righteous gives and does not hold back.” – Proverbs 21:26
— “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you tithe mint and dill and cumin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faithfulness. These you ought to have done, without neglecting the others.” – Matthew 23:23

When you give in faith to those in need, God receives much glory for your generosity. This is a key part of God’s plan for your finances: moving from debt to abundance through a heart of service.

Sixth, Christians plan to be a blessing to their children and their children’s children. 

— “No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money.” – Matthew 6:24
— “A good man leaves an inheritance to his children’s children, but the sinner’s wealth is laid up for the righteous.” – Proverbs 13:22
— “The rich rule over the poor, and the borrower is the slave of the lender.” – Proverbs 22:7
— “But if a widow has children or grandchildren, let them first learn to show godliness to their own household and to make some return to their parents, for this is pleasing in the sight of God.” – 1 Timothy 5:4
— “A good man leaves an inheritance to his children’s children, but the sinner’s wealth is laid up for the righteous.” –  Proverbs 13:22

God commands that we seek to supply for our children. This is a vital lesson in teaching kids about money. By leaving an inheritance and working for their long-term security, you help them understand not only your love but also God’s love by your example.

Seventh, Christians should heed the Bible’s warnings concerning debt. 

— “The rich rules over the poor, and the borrower is the slave of the lender.” – Proverbs 22:7.
— “Owe no one anything, except to love each other, for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law.” – Romans 13:8
— “Be not one of those who give pledges, who put up security for debts. If you have nothing with which to pay, why should your bed be taken from under you?” – Proverbs 22:26-27
— “The Lord will open the heavens, the storehouse of his bounty, to send rain on your land in season and to bless all the work of your hands. You will lend to many nations but will borrow from none.” – Deuteronomy 28:12
— “And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.” – Matthew 6:12
— “The wicked borrows but does not pay back, but the righteous is generous and gives.” – Psalm 37:21

Countless stories can be told of the trouble that comes when you spend more than you make. Understanding what does the Bible say about being in debt and lending is crucial for avoiding the anxiety that debt creates. If you find yourself trapped, you need a christian guide to escaping the trap of consumer debt.

Bringing your financial decisions under the lordship of Jesus is the only way to experience true financial freedom in the Bible. This involves breaking the cycle of debt through Biblical wisdom and taking practical steps for debt-free living based on scripture. With freedom, you can be generous. This is the start of how to get out of debt biblically and stay free.

—

Reflection questions:

1. What did you find most surprising about what God’s Word says on money and stewardship?
2. What is most difficult for you to apply from God’s Word on money and stewardship?
3. How have you experienced negative consequences by not following God’s Word on money and stewardship? 
4. How have you seen God’s Word benefit your approach to money and stewardship?

—

Part II: The Foundations

Do you remember Dobie from the old black and white television show called “The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis”? I’ll never forget a character on the show named Maynard G. Krebs. Maynard would get sick to his stomach anytime someone mentioned the word “work.” At even the mention of any sort of manual labor, Maynard would echo, “W-w-w-w-w-ork . . .” Truth be told, most people feel about discipline what Maynard felt about work. Discipline is hard. It’s tedious. It’s painful. And you know what else? Discipline normally means saying no to other options which, in the moment, just seem like more fun.

Does this mean we should avoid discipline? Not at all. Failing to discipline yourself leads to long term, continuous pain. In the end, you get what you discipline yourself for. If you merely live for your immediate desires, you’ll become a servant to them—chasing your tail believing that if you could just catch it then you’d find happiness. This is how most people treat money. Money is a means to fulfilling an immediate desire. Got a little money? Spend it fast and be happy for… how long? Not long at all. If you’re undisciplined with money, it is likely the case that you’re dissatisfied with how fast it spends and how slow it is replenished. You go paycheck to paycheck wishing that paydays were everyday rather than every two weeks.

Few have the discipline it takes to save money in order that it may grow over time. Discipline in saving, after all, requires saying no to desires today in order to say yes to good things like generosity, retirement, and inheritance for your kids down the road. This is a vital part of financial discipline in the Bible. Saying no today is sometimes referred to as “delaying gratification.” Notice that financial discipline doesn’t mean no gratification but delayed gratification. To be sure, the gratifications are likely not the same for the one with no discipline compared to the one with discipline. For the one with no discipline, gratification means eating out, superfluous spending on unnecessary luxuries, wasting money on quick hitting happinesses. The one with discipline is likelier to save for better things—things like a house, education for their kids, retirement, and living generously for the good of others.

Notice what all those things have in common? Impact. Delaying gratification in order to save for better things means being able to have a positive impact for others. Do you want financial peace now and the opportunity to impact others by being generous later on? I hope so and I hope this guide will help you do just that.

It’s really not rocket science. There are some fundamentals to having financial peace that I would like to share with you. Life is about making a few right choices and sticking with them. Principles are few and they never change; methods are many and continually change. Seek the principles of financial freedom.

The fact that you’re willing to work through a life skill guide like this is a good sign and great start. Many have said, and I agree, leaders are readers. So let’s learn some things about money and financial peace.

1. Spend less than you earn. 

Biblical Principle: “The wise store up choice food and olive oil, but fools gulp theirs down.” (Proverbs 21:20, NIV)

Spending less than you earn is the cornerstone of financial stability. When you live within your means, you avoid the bondage of debt and create a margin for generosity and future needs. Be it you earn a little, a medium or a lot of money, spend less than what you make, and you will have peace and confidence and continue to become wealthier over time. This is a simple and solid life skill found in financial freedom in the Bible.

A side note: just because your income increases over time doesn’t mean your spending needs to follow. You should regularly ask yourself “Do I need this, or just want it?” It is easy for us to assume that because we have more we should spend more. But this isn’t always the case. Our desire to always be spending more is often rooted in our lack of contentment. But what did Paul tell Timothy? “Contentment with godliness is great gain.” With whatever you have today, pray that the Lord would make you content. After all, if you’re content, spending less and living within your means will be much easier.

2. Be careful with debt. 

Biblical Warning: “The rich rule over the poor, and the borrower is slave of the lender.” (Proverbs 22:7, NIV)

Credit cards are some of the worst kinds of debt you can have. The reason for this is because most cards charge more than 25% interest. This is an incredibly high rate. So many can testify to getting over their heads with credit card debt with the result being frustration and fear. If you’re free of credit card debt today, then stay that way!

Summary to memorize and keep in your mind forever:

1. Debt will take you farther than you ever intended to go,
2. Debt will keep you longer than you ever intended to stay,
3. Debt will cost you more than you ever intended to pay.

3. Self-control is a primary lesson to learn in life. 

Biblical Wisdom: “A man without self-control is like a city broken into and left without walls.” (Proverbs 25:28, ESV)

If you don’t develop self-control, then you’ll waste whatever money you have. The result will be bondage, not peace. If you’re self-controlled in your finances, however, you will be able to save, invest, and live generously. This is a core part of a christian guide to escaping the trap of consumer debt. Think also about these additional benefits:

— Improved Decision-Making: Self-control helps you resist impulsive choices, leading to more thoughtful and beneficial decisions.
— Enhanced Relationships: By managing emotions and reactions, self-control fosters better communication and reduces conflicts.
— Increased Productivity: Staying focused and resisting distractions allows for greater efficiency and accomplishment of goals.
— Better Health: Self-control supports healthier habits, like maintaining a balanced diet, exercising regularly, and avoiding harmful behaviors.
— Emotional Stability: It enables you to regulate stress and negative emotions, promoting mental resilience and well-being.

4. Like in all of life, financial peace begins with acknowledging God as creator and Lord.  

Biblical Principal: “I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.” (John 15:5 ESV)

You were given everything you have. Are you thankful for your parents? Thankful for your body? Thankful for your intelligence? Thankful that you have eyes and hands and ears? Everything you have comes from God, and Bible verses about money remind us to continually acknowledge and thank him, and to model our life to serve others as God has served you in Jesus. This is the foundation of Bible verses about financial freedom and stewardship.

5. We should serve like Jesus. 

Bible Principal: Jesus’ life reveals that greatness comes through servanthood. Does that sound strange to you? It definitely sounds strange to the world. The world is all about self-advancement and promotion. But Jesus came to serve rather than be served. Your life—including your finances—should also be about service. Among other things, this means putting others’ needs above your own (Philippians 2:5–7) and practicing generosity in the Bible.

At the beginning of my Christian Walk, it seemed impossible to understand that I could have more peace and joy and confidence by serving others. At 80 years old now, I have had 40 years of enjoyment, excitement and challenge serving others; and the Lord has provided for my every need along the way. This is part of trusting God in hard times.

By following these principles, you are engaging in breaking the cycle of debt through Biblical wisdom and taking practical steps for debt-free living based on scripture. This is God’s plan for your finances: moving from debt to abundance.

—

Reflection questions: 

1. Which of these tips are hardest for you to implement? Why? 
2. How does money relate to our trust (or lack thereof) in God? 
3. Does anyone know how you spend your money? Share with your mentor or someone in your church that you trust so they can help you stay accountable

—

Part III: Managing Money

I became a Christian in my late thirties. Before I was converted, my life was a mess and the main reason was because of my sin. I lost my marriage, hurt my kids, and drove myself into debt. By God’s grace, however, I came to understand the gospel and repented of my sin and trusted in Jesus. Shortly thereafter (I was 38), I met and married my second wife, Carol. Carol taught me a lot about a lot, not least of which was about money.

Early in our marriage, we moved to Tennessee and bought a home there. Little did we know, however, that the IRS would soon come knocking on our door to inform me that I owed $150,000 (in 1983) for investment tax credit recapture. They put a lien on our new home. Worse yet, I was regularly driving us into further debt by impromptu spending. I once bought a jacuzzi on credit! When the tub arrived at our front door, Carol sent it back. She let me know that day that I had to get my spending under control. She said, “If you can’t pay cash, you’re not buying it!” My approach to money changed that day. I knew I needed to start implementing some of the advice I shared in part two of this life skill guide regarding financial freedom.

With Carol’s help, I developed a debt payment plan and in 2-3 years, we were debt free. At that point, Carol asked how much we would have to save in order to prepare for retirement. In two years, we saved that amount and after many good investments, that money grew to be more than enough to live on. This was a practical realization of God’s plan for your finances: moving from debt to abundance.

After approximately five years of being married, Carol requested that we donate all cash accumulation yearly to Christian ministries. She wanted to give all cash away every year, so we didn’t accumulate what we didn’t need. Carol practiced generosity in the Bible with others and I learned generosity from her example.

For the following 40 years at least 50% of our annual income has been donated to Christian ministries and we have lived well and been hospitable to many during that time. God has been gracious. Sadly, Carol went home to be with the Lord when she was 63. I praise the Lord for her life and all that she taught me about how to live mine.

The 80-10-10 Rule. 

I recognize that not everyone can give 50% of their income away. That’s why I regularly recommend the 80-10-10 rule. For the record, these figures are starting recommendations. Based on your situation, you may need to adjust these to best account for what the Lord has given you and what responsibilities you have.

It is not an understatement to say that the 80-10-10 rule changed my finances. Here’s how it breaks down:
— The first 10% of your income should be given to your local church. I say the first because often it is the case that if we wait until the end of the month, we end up spending this amount on ourselves rather than give it in trust to the Lord. This reflects the principle of tithing in the Bible. By giving the first 10% to the Lord’s work, we demonstrate that he is our priority and treasure. This is a testimony to our children and the watching world.
— The second 10% of your income should go to your savings account or your investment account. Again, if you wait to the end of the month to save or invest, you won’t have enough money left to make the payment. The longer you live with this discipline the wealthier you will become. This is a core part of financial discipline in the Bible.
— That leaves 80% for your needs, wants, and debts. You will find that this forced self-control will change your life for the better. You start by taming yourself. Then slowly you learn to invest. And lastly you learn that peace and confidence doesn’t come from spending; it comes from self-control. This is a vital step in teaching kids about money and life.

This is just one option for budgeting. You may need to adjust these numbers or go with a different strategy. I strongly recommend that these three primary buckets, however, be a part of whatever budget you choose. You need to give, save, and spend wisely according to Bible verses about financial freedom and stewardship.

Tips for smart investing. 

This life skill guide is about financial freedom, not investing. Nonetheless, investing often plays a role in achieving financial freedom in the Bible. Therefore, here are some brief tips for how you might wisely invest what God has given you in order to see it grow.

— Buy low is the key to success & requires wisdom. Most investors buy high and believe the value will continue to rise over time.
— From 1980-2020 the real estate and stock market was up, up, up and making money was easy. The last 5 years has been bumpy and not as smooth. This means that if you’re just starting your investment journey, you will need to be patient. This is especially true when trusting God in hard times.
— I have learned after decades of investing that the most profitable investments are the ones where we buy an asset “when it’s value has dropped significantly”, and then it bounces back up to a nice gain. Drops in value in proven companies mean a good opportunity to jump in.
— Think short-term. Being out of the market at least half of the time reduces risk exposure. Yet we gain high returns by purchasing good financial guidance and accept that better returns come with market turmoil.
— The market determines the sell price – you don’t. Your key to success is to buy right, more than sell right.

Remember that wealth means responsibility. Our hearts are easily tempted into turning wealth into an idol. Nothing I say about growing wealth is safe or worth pursuing if you do not hear and heed the Bible verses about money, the warnings on idolatry, and the command to live generously. Understanding what does the Bible say about being in debt and lending will help you in breaking the cycle of debt through Biblical wisdom. By following practical steps for debt-free living based on scripture, you can discover how to get out of debt biblically and stay free.

—

Reflection questions:

1. Have you ever had a budget? Do you have one now? What challenges/joys have you experienced because of budgeting? 
2. Can you look back over your life and identify any season that was characterized by bad financial decisions? What helped you get out of it? 
3. What accountability do you have in place to help you with selfcontrol regarding your finances.

—

Part IV: Resources on Finances

1. Where are there mature believers in your church who have been faithful with their finances who would be willing to help you learn how to manage yours? Seek them out, and you will prosper.
2. An additional option for financial mentorship is Ramsey Financial Solutions. Dave Ramsey helpfully provides guidance on debt relief, buying/selling real estate, budgeting, investing, planning for retirement, buying insurance, filing taxes, and more. https://www.ramseysolutions.com/money-34462
3. They have 100’s of useful YouTube videos from people like yourself sharing their problems and opportunities that are produced daily. EXCELLENT LISTENING to Godly financial principles.
   https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=dave+ramsey+show

Four old books to read. 

1. Mover of Men and Mountains by R.G. LeTourneau. I first read this book in the late 1980’s. I’ve read it many times since. He was a builder of large earthmoving equipment. I have spent almost all my working life in the field of machinery, so I liked the title of this book and wanted to read about this man.

Mover of Men and Mountains is an autobiography that chronicles the life of R.G. LeTourneau, a prolific inventor, industrialist, and devout Christian who revolutionized the earthmoving industry. The book weaves together his personal journey, business achievements, and unwavering faith, presenting his life as a testament to the power of partnering with God in all endeavors. Written in a conversational and inspirational tone, it details how LeTourneau overcame challenges through ingenuity, perseverance, and a commitment to giving 90% of his income to Christian causes.

R. G. LeTourneau was one of my machinery hero’s. His life of generosity has many times encouraged me to live more generously with what God has given me. I recommend this book to you. If not this one, pick another book that tells the story of someone who lived generously and aim to live after their example.

2. The Richest Man in Babylon by Geroge S. Clason. This book is an easy read and full of profound wisdom. It was first published in 1926, and it’s still a classic personal finance book that uses parables set in ancient Babylon to convey timeless principles on wealth and money management. The stories in this book center around Arkad, a once-poor scribe who becomes the wealthiest man in Babylon, and his teachings to others seeking financial success.

The book’s core message revolves around the idea that financial success is achievable for anyone who understands and applies basic principles. One of the most important concepts is “pay yourself first,” which advises saving at least ten percent of every earning. This principle emphasizes the importance of consistent saving as the foundation of wealth accumulation. Whether you ever become wealthy, savings is an essential ingredient to financial freedom.

The book also stresses the significance of controlling expenditures. It argues that individuals must distinguish between necessary expenses and desires and avoid letting their expenses grow to equal their income. Living within one’s means is crucial for financial freedom.

Furthermore, “The Richest Man in Babylon” highlights the importance of making money work “for you” through wise investment. It advises seeking knowledge and advice from those experienced in financial matters and avoiding risky ventures that promise quick returns. The book also discusses the power of compound interest, illustrating how invested money can generate further earnings over time.

Other key themes include the importance of owning a home, ensuring a future income through investments or planning for retirement, and continuously seeking to improve one’s ability to earn. The book also touches on the role of opportunity and the need to act decisively when opportunities arise.

I recommend The Richest Man in Babylon to anyone who needs to learn fundamental principles for financial freedom. It emphasizes the importance of saving, budgeting, investing wisely, and developing a mindset that fosters financial success.

3. Think and Grow Rich by Napoleon Hill. This book was first published in 1937. It is a self-help book that outlines a philosophy of personal achievement. Take this one with a grain of salt. I know many will hear the phrase “self-help” and get worried. I’m not recommending this book as the beat-all-end-all. Even still, I think this book remains a useful resource for learning how to succeed financially and beyond.

The book emphasizes the power of mindset and the importance of having a strong desire. Hill states that a burning desire, coupled with targeted confidence, can propel individuals towards their goals. He introduces the concept of “auto suggestion,” a technique for influencing the subconscious mind through repeated affirmations and visualization.

Another key principle Hill offers is specialized knowledge. Hill argues that general knowledge is insufficient for achieving wealth; instead, individuals need to acquire specific knowledge related to their chosen field. He also highlights the role of imagination, distinguishing between synthetic imagination (combining existing ideas) and creative imagination (generating new ideas).

We know that organized planning is crucial for translating desires into reality. Hill stresses the importance of creating a detailed plan of action and collaborating with others through a “Master Mind” group, which fosters synergy and support. Decision-making and persistence are also vital; successful individuals make decisions quickly and stick to them, refusing to be deterred by obstacles.

Ultimately, “Think and Grow Rich” provides a framework for cultivating a success-oriented mindset and taking concrete action to achieve one’s goals. It emphasizes that by understanding and applying these principles, anyone can achieve prosperity and fulfillment.

4. The Intelligent Investor by Benjamin Graham. This one was first published in 1949. Some may think of this book as the Bible of investing. The Intelligent Investor provides a long-term philosophy focused on minimizing risk and maximizing returns through careful analysis. Graham’s principles of investing in undervalued companies and having a margin of safety remain foundational for prudent investors.

These books offer a blend of practical advice, fundamental principles, and insightful perspectives on the psychology of money, making them valuable resources for anyone seeking to understand and navigate the world of finance effectively, now and in the future.

Additional Resources

If you’re new to budgeting, saving, and investing, I strongly recommend finding some financial mentor. One of the best places to look for such a person is in your local church. In an age of information, Christians often look everywhere but their local churches to get help on life’s many problems. This is a mistake.

—

Reflection questions:

1. Who is in your life who you think you could talk to about your money (what you make, give away, save, and spend)?
2. Do you feel uncomfortable talking about your earnings, generosity, savings, or spending? Why?
3. Did your parents use money wisely? How or how not?

—

Conclusion

I wrote this guide, in part, to help you think wisely about making more money. But this isn’t the main reason I wrote it. I wrote it so that with whatever money you make, you learn to honor God and serve others with it. By doing so, I believe you will be best positioned to testify to everyone watching your life that God is who he says he is and he is worth all of your worship.

About the Author

John Nugier is a devoted follower of Christ who calls California’s central valley home. After John’s successful career in business, he has dedicated himself to living a high-impact life, investing in the eternal good of others. His desire is to pass on their hard-won wisdom to coming generations, and to see other Christians take up the task of mentoring. This is the vision behind The Mentoring Project.

Taylor Hartley serves as the editorial director at 9Marks in Washington, D.C. He is married to his wife, Rachel, and together they have one son, Bode. Taylor earned his M.Div. from Southern Baptist Theological Seminary and is currently working on his Th.M. at London Seminary in the UK.

#45 What Does the Bible say About Gambling

Part I: The Appeal Of Gambling—What’s Really At Stake?

«He who loves money will not be satisfied with money, nor he who loves wealth with his income; this also is vanity.» (Ecclesiastes 5:10).

The pull of the win

I’ve always been competitive. I hated losing (still do, if the truth be told). When I discovered gambling, it felt like the perfect extension of that drive. I was studying to become a math teacher—someone who saw patterns and probabilities, someone who thought, “I can figure this out. I can beat the system.” And at times, I thought I did.

I remember walking out of a casino with thousands more than I walked in with. I felt invincible. There was a rush, a sense of pride—like I had outsmarted the odds. At the craps table, when the dice were hot and the whole crowd was cheering, the atmosphere felt electric. I was the one on fire. There was applause, camaraderie, and adrenaline. It felt like winning a championship. This is the deceptive lure of problem gambling.

It wasn’t just about money; it was about identity—validation. Gambling gave me something else I didn’t even realize I was craving: admiration. It created an atmosphere where talking about your wins made you sound smarter than everyone else in the room. After all, you don’t often hear people boast in their losses. You hear stories about hitting a big parlay, multiplying your buy-in at the poker table, or walking away with a $10,000 slot machine win. Everyone who talks about gambling sounds like a winner. So, I thought, “Why not me? Why couldn’t I be the one who figured it out, beat the odds, and built a life off a system that worked?”

I read books on how to count cards and promoted the best system to win in craps. I subscribed to experts who sold “can’t-miss” sports picks. I poured time and money into learning the angles. If there was an edge to be found, I wanted to find it. I didn’t view it as reckless. I saw it as preparation. While others saw gambling as chance, I convinced myself it was a game of skill. This compulsive gambling had a way of justifying itself. The irony was that the more I thought I was in control, the more I was actually being controlled by my gambling addiction.

And do you want to know the truth? The wins were never enough. I always wanted more—the next big hit, the next rush, the next story to tell. I wasn’t just gambling for money, I was gambling for meaning. The system was beating me, and I was becoming more addicted by the minute. The casino made sure I stayed hooked: free meals, free rooms, and even free bets at the casino and sportsbook. I felt like royalty, and I had barely graduated high school. Unfortunately, none of those “gifts” were really free; they were bait to keep me coming back and staying even longer. Eventually, I lost all my winnings—plus a lot more.

These casinos and gambling platforms always win. They are built to win. That’s why they’re multi-billion-dollar organizations. People like you and me are the ones funding their success. Gambling had become a counterfeit reward system. It promised excitement, wealth, admiration—but what it actually gave me was restlessness, anxiety, and spiritual emptiness.

The myth of mastery

Gambling preys on people who are wired like me—people who hate to lose, who believe they can beat the odds, people who deep down think that the more money they have, the more fulfilling life will be. When we look at Bible verses about money, we see a different reality. I had a “system” (so does everyone), but systems don’t work when the game is rigged. That’s the illusion: if you’re smart enough, quick enough, strategic enough, you’ll win—but it’s a lie. As Ecclesiastes 5:10 says, “He who loves money will not be satisfied with money.” Gambling doesn’t bring satisfaction—it teases and whispers false promises. Then it draws you into depths you never thought you’d enter. With each cycle, the hunger grows louder.

What started as fun quickly turned into fixation. My mind was always running—calculating odds, tracking spreads, looking for the next “sure thing.” The high from a win wore off quickly, and the lows from a loss loitered longer each time. It became less about winning and more about numbing—numbing fear, disappointment, and the growing awareness that something was deeply broken inside me. This is exactly what does the Bible say about gambling and the pursuit of dishonest gain.

It wasn’t just a hobby—it became a false identity. Gambling told me I was sharp, clever, strategic. It told me I was different from the average bettor. But those were lies. I wasn’t beating the system. I was sinking into it and every attempt to master my addiction only resulted in it tightening its grip.

Mood swings and false highs

I didn’t notice how much gambling began to control my emotional state. A win made me feel invincible but a loss sent me into a spiral. My mood was no longer my own—it belonged to the outcome of each bet. My sense of worth was being dictated by numbers and odds.

Friends began to distance themselves. I stopped going to casinos with others and started going alone. I watched the games I bet on alone. People didn’t want to be around me when I lost, and I couldn’t blame them. I became irritable, angry, and desperate. Still, I convinced myself the next win would fix everything.

Eventually, I wasn’t even betting on things I cared about. I was placing money on tennis matches I didn’t watch and cricket tournaments in places I’d never heard of. At that point, it wasn’t about enjoyment or strategy. I was just trying to fill the God-sized hole in my heart. I can still remember the feeling of waking up and immediately checking scores from halfway around the world. I had gone from calculated risk to blind obsession. That’s when I knew I wasn’t chasing success anymore. I was trying to escape. The emotional rollercoaster was exhausting. Joy was replaced by anxiety. Peace was replaced by panic. I didn’t recognize myself anymore.

The unthinkable

Gambling took me places I never thought I’d go. I began stealing—from friends, family, coworkers, and strangers. Many were people who trusted me. I maxed out credit cards and lied repeatedly to cover it all. The worst part was how normal it all felt. One compromise led to another until my conscience was barely a whisper.

I didn’t feel guilty about what I was doing. All I cared about was trying to get my money back, and I was able to justify my actions in my own mind with thoughts like, “They’ll understand once I hit big again. I just need one more shot.” That kind of thinking is toxic—and it’s terrifying how convincing it can become.

But the truth is, it wasn’t just about gambling anymore. It started there, but it didn’t end there—it spread. Once I was okay with lying, I found it easier to cheat. Once I justified stealing, I stopped seeing people as people—they became means to an end. I was consumed with self-preservation and pleasure. I crossed lines I never thought possible.

At the time, I wouldn’t have called it sin. I didn’t know Jesus. I didn’t understand the language of conviction or repentance. I called it being “desperate.” I called it “survival.” I told myself, “Everybody’s got issues. I mean, at least I’m not a murderer.” But deep down, I knew I was breaking something sacred. I just didn’t have the words for it yet. People often ask, “is gambling a sin?” While I didn’t see it then, I saw the fruit of it.

As I drew closer to rock bottom, my life lost all sense of meaning and purpose. I wasn’t living anymore. I was simply surviving. A wise pastor once said, “Sin will take you further than you ever wanted to go, keep you longer than you ever wanted to stay, and cost you more than you ever wanted to pay.” That was my story.

And gambling wasn’t the only sin I got tangled in. Because I didn’t know Jesus, and because I didn’t have him anchoring my life, the sin that began with money eventually spread into other areas of my life too. When you ignore conviction in one area, it gets easier to ignore it everywhere else.

Sin is never static—it grows and infects, and when we try to manage it instead of kill it, sin manages us until it mangles us. At the right time, God intervened and radically changed my life by setting me free from the grip of gambling. And He is ready and willing to free you too. Finding gambling addiction help starts with this realization.

A tragic story that could’ve been mine

I know a man who hid his gambling for years. His family had no idea, and when everything finally came to light, the damage was devastating. He lost his house, his marriage, and his daughters. It wasn’t that this man didn’t love his family but that his addiction to gambling had grown too big to hide and too powerful to fight on his own.

That could’ve been my story. Maybe it’s already your story—or close to it. More than money is at stake here; peace, integrity, relationships, and your soul are also in jeopardy.

The real question

What is it you’re really chasing? Maybe it’s the feeling of control in a life that feels uncertain. Maybe it’s the approval that comes from a big win, or the rush that helps you forget your stress, pain, or regret. Maybe it’s the dream of finally getting ahead—of proving to others, or yourself, that you’re not a failure.

Gambling doesn’t just offer money. It offers a false sense of meaning.

Jesus doesn’t offer empty promises. He offers rest. He says to the hurting:

If you’re worn out—mentally, emotionally, spiritually—he’s not waiting to scold you. He’s ready to carry you. The road ahead may be hard, but you won’t walk it alone. He is the only one who can give you true and everlasting rest. And when you finally step out of the fog, you’ll find what gambling never gave you: peace. Not the peace of a winning streak, but the peace of a Savior who loves you, even when you lose. This is the path to true freedom in Christ.

Reflection Questions:

1. What do you think gambling has offered you emotionally, socially, or spiritually?
2. How has your sense of identity or mood been tied to winning or losing?
3. What false promises have you believed, and what have they actually cost you?

—

A Prayer to Begin

Father, forgive me for relying on money more than You. Help me to follow You in every area of my life, and be all in for You. Amen.

Part II: The Hidden Costs—Emotional, Relational, And Spiritual

“A faithful man will abound with blessings, but whoever hastens to be rich will not go unpunished.”—Proverbs 28:20

What you don’t see at first

No one starts gambling thinking it will destroy their life. The appeal is fast money, fun, and maybe even a chance to prove something. It begins with excitement and possibility—a win here, a hot streak there, the sense that you’ve found something that works.

But the damage gambling causes doesn’t usually show up all at once. It creeps in quietly, masked by the adrenaline and the thrill. The wins are front and center in your perception over everything else. Making the last thing you notice those things you’re losing. By the time you realize the firm grip gambling has on you and what this gambling addiction is really costing you, the pattern is already deeply rooted and the habit is formed.

The losses aren’t just financial—they’re emotional, relational, and spiritual. As Proverbs 28:20 warns, “Whoever hastens to be rich will not go unpunished.” The race for quick money doesn’t lead to peace—it leads to pain. There’s a trail of destruction that’s easy to overlook until the damage becomes insurmountable.

This session is about seeing the trail clearly. It’s about identifying the deeper costs—the ones no one talks about when they’re cheering a win, hiding a loss, or placing “just one more” bet. This is the reality of problem gambling.

The emotional toll: an underestimated weight

Gambling doesn’t just affect your wallet—it affects your heart. It begins to shape how you see yourself, how you regulate your emotions, and how you process your day-to-day life. A good day is when you win, a bad day is when you lose, and somewhere along the way, your mood becomes dependent on odds, outcomes, and numbers that are completely out of your control.

There’s a specific kind of anxiety that comes with gambling. You may feel it before placing a bet, while the event plays out, or afterward as you obsess over what you should have done differently. It may show up in your body as restlessness, tension, or insomnia. Emotionally, you may experience anger, numbness, or even despair. And when you lose, the pressure to win it back builds quickly—often at the cost of your peace, your sleep, and your sanity.

This is what emotional captivity looks like. You’re no longer managing your emotions—they’re managing you. A win might make you feel untouchable. A loss might make you feel worthless. In both cases, your worth is tied to something that cannot hold the weight of your soul.

Over time, your sense of identity becomes entangled with your performance as a gambler. I once placed a massive 12-game parlay during March Madness, chasing a dream payout that would’ve crossed six figures. One by one, the first eleven teams won. I was on the edge of a life-changing win—until the twelfth and final game went into overtime. I still remember sitting there, heart pounding, as it came down to the last possession. A player from the opposing team launched a shot from nearly three-quarters of the court. It went in. Game over. My team lost. And just like that, $9,000 vanished—along with the fantasy of what I thought that win would fix.

The emotional high was replaced with a crushing low. I wasn’t just disappointed—I was sick. It felt like everything had been building to that moment, and it unraveled in an instant. That’s the emotional torment compulsive gambling creates: irrational hope followed by devastating collapse. It’s no longer just something you do—it starts to define who you are, and that’s a dangerous place to live.

The relational damage: trust erodes in the shadows

Gambling is rarely just a personal problem. Its consequences ripple outward, impacting those nearest to you. Maybe you’ve already seen this in your own life—relationships strained by secrecy, distance, or financial stress. Maybe you’ve begun to hide things from your spouse, your parents, or your friends. Maybe you’ve found yourself canceling plans, dodging questions, or withdrawing emotionally from people you love.

Even when intentions are good, lies are often the first domino to fall. A small excuse here, a delayed payment there. Promises are made to keep the peace, but eventually they get broken. Trust, once damaged, is hard to rebuild, and when those around you can’t trust your words or your actions, the relationships begin to fracture.

Perhaps you’ve borrowed money and didn’t repay it. Maybe you’ve made commitments and failed to follow through. Or maybe you’ve even taken money that wasn’t yours—telling yourself you’d return it as soon as things turned around. But the thing about gambling is that “when things turn around” rarely comes—and if it does, it’s never enough.

And then comes the isolation. You may start to believe that no one would understand what you’re going through—that if people really knew, they would walk away. So, you keep your distance and avoid conversations that could expose you. What you need more than anything isn’t another win—it’s finding hope in being fully known and fully loved.

That kind of love can only be found in God and he already knows everything. There’s nothing you’ve hidden that he hasn’t seen. God’s not turning away from you, he’s waiting to heal what’s been broken.

The spiritual gap: what happens in your heart

At first, gambling might not feel like a spiritual problem. It might feel like a strategy, a hobby, or a way to blow off steam. But over time, it can slowly change your heart—and that’s when the spiritual danger becomes clear. Gambling in the Bible may not be explicitly named in every verse, but the heart’s posture is frequently addressed.

Gambling competes for your affections. It grabs your attention, consumes your time, and draws your trust away from God and toward something else. When gambling becomes a source of hope, relief, control, or meaning, it begins to function like a god. It becomes an idol—one you rely on when life feels uncertain or painful.

If you’re a Christian struggling with a temptation to gamble, slowly and gradually you may find yourself no longer interested in praying, opening your Bible, or seeking God because your focus is elsewhere. Deep down you know what you’re doing is wrong, but you don’t want to address it—not yet at least. Eventually, wins start to feel like confirmation that your strategy is working, while losses start to feel like punishment or “bad luck.” Either way, the center of your trust has shifted away from God and toward yourself.

Jesus said in Matthew 6:21, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” In other words, what you value most will always shape what you love most. If your thoughts, hopes, and plans revolve around gambling, your heart will follow. This reflects the struggle of overcoming temptation.

One of the clearest signs of this shift is how much time you spend thinking about, planning, or recovering from gambling. Check your screen time. Track your thoughts. Are you more fluent with betting lines than with Scripture? Are you more emotionally affected by a win or loss than you are by a worship song, a sermon, or time in prayer?

God hasn’t stopped loving you but you may have stopped listening. When you stop listening, your soul grows numb. Not dead—but distant. You’re not abandoned. You’re just distracted. And distractions are the enemy of intimacy with Christ.

The good news is this: God’s love is not performance-based. You don’t have to earn your way back. You just have to turn toward Him, and He will meet you there, every time. This is the path to freedom in Christ.

A hidden tax on the soul

What’s the real cost of gambling? The real cost is the hidden tax on your soul—the constant emotional drain, the broken relationships, the silence between you and God. These costs don’t show up on a balance sheet, but they add up fast and they leave you depleted, ashamed, and exhausted.

If you’ve reached that place—or if you’re headed there—you don’t have to stay there. There is a way out. Proverbs 28:20 doesn’t just warn against rushing after riches; it points toward something better: faithfulness. Faithfulness may not feel flashy. It won’t give you the same adrenaline as a hot streak but it gives you something that gambling never will—peace: peace with God, others, and yourself.

Faithfulness develops slowly. It’s not about winning big; it’s about walking daily—in repentance and with integrity and humility before God. It’s about choosing honesty over secrecy, trust over control, and surrender over striving.

Gambling promises life but delivers loss. Jesus promises rest—and he delivers every time. He doesn’t call you just to avoid sin. He calls you to a new way of life—a better and free life with himself at the center. The door to that life isn’t locked. It opens the moment you decide to tell the truth, bring your sin to God in repentance and place faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. After all, Jesus died the death you and I deserve to die. And he rose to offer new life to all who believe in him. You don’t have to carry the weight of your sin anymore. Jesus already paid the price. This realization is the first step in how to stop gambling and breaking bad habits.

—

Reflection Questions

1. Where have you seen gambling impact your emotional, relational, or spiritual life most clearly?
2. What patterns of hiding or avoidance have you noticed in yourself?
3. What might change if you trusted God with what you’ve been trying to manage on your own?

—

A Prayer to Begin

Father, I have tried to live life my own way and be my own god and savior. Please, help me to surrender everything to You and walk in Your truth. I don’t want to hide anymore. Teach me to walk in light and live in freedom. Amen.

Part III: Turning From Idols—Repentance And Renewal

“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.” Romans 12:2

The idols we don’t recognize

When we think of idols, we might picture statues or ancient altars. But in our world, idols are far more subtle. An idol is anything—good or bad—that begins to take God’s rightful place in our hearts. It’s what we run to for comfort, control, validation, escape, or identity. For many of us caught in the trap of gambling addiction, this activity isn’t just a habit—it’s a god.

Slowly and quietly, gambling becomes more than entertainment—it becomes a master. Every master other than Jesus will eventually lead us into ruin. Idols demand everything and give nothing in return. They entice us with control but enslave us to outcomes we can’t guarantee. They offer meaning but steal our peace. They whisper promises of a better life while slowly draining the life we already have. This is why it is so important to understand what does the Bible say about gambling.

Romans 12:2 calls us to something entirely different. Instead of being conformed to the world’s patterns—chasing pleasure, performance, and quick fixes—we’re invited to be transformed by renewing our minds. That transformation begins with repentance: turning from idols and turning back to the God who created us, loves us, and offers true life.

The illusion of control

One of the most deceptive aspects of gambling is the illusion of control. You study the lines, analyze the trends, build a system, and convince yourself that this time it’s going to work. Occasionally, it does—for a while but no amount of strategy can overcome a system built to take you down. This is the dangerous path of responsible gambling myths—the idea that you can stay in control of a predatory system.

The deeper issue isn’t the system itself—it’s what we’re really trying to control. For many, gambling isn’t just about money. It’s about self-worth, stability, or the fantasy of finally proving we’re not failures. It becomes a way to fix something that feels broken inside.

Here’s the truth: no amount of success at the tables, on the apps, or with a bet can fix what only God was meant to heal. We’re not just looking for wins—we’re looking for peace, purpose, and identity—which cannot be found in odds or outcomes. God invites us to lay down the illusion, to surrender the need to control everything, and to stop trying to fix ourselves through idols that cannot save. Instead, God calls us to be transformed by his truth and grace.

A story from the end of myself

The last time I walked into a casino, I was 20 years old. I drove for over four hours by myself to Windsor, Canada. I don’t remember the exact time I arrived, but I remember how quickly I lost control. Within 30 minutes of walking through the door, I had lost $2,000. I wasn’t just disappointed—I was depressed. This was compulsive gambling at its peak.

I drove back across the border to Detroit, found a branch of my bank, and withdrew more than $5,000—money that had just been deposited to pay for my next college term. All my credit cards were maxed out. I had no other legal way to get more money. I wasn’t thinking clearly and I was desperate to hit it big. So, I drove straight back to Windsor and before I knew it all $5,000 was lost.

As I started the long drive home, I barely had enough gas in the tank to make the trip, and then, about two hours from my front door, I got a flat tire. I pulled over onto the shoulder, completely broken. I didn’t just feel stuck—I was stuck. I had nowhere to turn or hide while on the side of the road, out of money, out of options, and out of hope. This is the dark reality of problem gambling.

There I was—literally on my knees, changing a tire in the dark, realizing I had nowhere to go and nothing left to give. I was empty. I remembered a few times I had been invited to church when I was younger. But in that moment, I had nowhere else to turn. By the time I got home, it was just early enough that I could make it to the morning service at the church I once wrote off. That day, God radically changed my life.

I knew I was a sinner. That part was easy to admit. I wanted something different—something real. I wanted to live for a Father who loved me and a Savior who died for me. That day marked the beginning of a new life. Not because I fixed myself, but because Jesus met me in my brokenness and paid my debt in full. He offered me freedom in Christ.

Even now, 17 years later, writing this still brings tears to my eyes. Not because of how far I fell—but because of how far he reached to bring me home. What God did in me; he is ready and willing to do for you. Finding hope is possible even in the deepest pit.

Real repentance is possible

Repentance is more than just regret. It’s more than feeling sorry. It’s turning away from sin, and turning toward God. It’s not just about stopping bad behavior—it’s about letting God renew your heart, mind, and desires.

Is gambling a sin? Yes, it is a particularly destructive one because it relies on greed and luck rather than God’s provision. If you’re addicted to gambling or tempted to start, I urge you—repent of your sin and trust in Jesus.

Romans 12:2 doesn’t tell us to just avoid the patterns of the world. It invites us to be transformed. That transformation doesn’t happen through willpower—it happens through surrender. It is the first step in how to stop gambling.

The lie of “one last time”

Maybe you’ve thought, “Just one more time. Then I’ll quit.” That is the voice of addiction. It speaks softly but deceitfully. “One more time” never comes. Once, I bet $900 on a horse that basically only had three legs. I was chasing a fantasy, hoping a bet would fix what was broken. But idols don’t rescue; they destroy. They make promises they can’t keep.

Transformed minds, transformed lives

God doesn’t just want to clean up your behavior. He wants to give you a new heart, mind, and identity. When you’re saved, you’re adopted into his family. You become a new creation. You were not created to live in secrecy and shame; you were made to shine the light and truth of Christ.

Renewal begins when we stop trying to fit into the world’s patterns and start allowing God’s truth to reshape the way we think. You may still feel a draw to gamble, but you don’t have to listen to the lies. This is the process of breaking bad habits.

If you are struggling, please seek gambling addiction help. Reach out to your church or look for gambling support groups where you can find community and accountability. You don’t have to walk this road alone.

—

Reflection Questions:

1. What idols—such as control, success, approval, or escape—has gambling created in your life?
2. What has been your understanding of repentance, and how might that need to grow?
3. Where do you sense God calling you to surrender and trust Him more deeply?

—

A Prayer for Renewal

Father, I confess that I have chased after things that can never satisfy. I don’t want to conform to this world any longer—I want to be transformed by You. Change my heart and help me walk in the freedom that comes through Christ alone. Amen.

Part IV: Walking In Freedom—New Habits, New Heart

“For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.”—Galatians 5:1

Walking out what God has worked in

Freedom is not just something you feel in a moment—it’s something you live out day by day. By now, you’ve recognized gambling addiction for what it really is: a destructive counterfeit that promises excitement and reward but leads to bondage, brokenness, and despair. You’ve also taken a hard look at what it has cost you emotionally, relationally, and spiritually. In the last session, you saw that real repentance means turning from false gods and returning to the living God who calls you to repent of your sins and trust in Jesus.

This final session is about moving forward—walking in freedom. It’s about learning to live as someone who’s been adopted by God, set apart by him, and empowered by his Spirit to live a new kind of life. It’s not about being perfect overnight. It’s about practicing new habits that flow from a new heart. This is the path of sanctification, the ongoing journey of becoming more like Jesus.

You may still feel vulnerable. You may still be tempted. You may still hear the lies whispering to you when life gets hard. This is why understanding overcoming temptation is vital. But take heart—God is not done with you, and He’s not asking you to walk alone.

Stand firm—don’t go back

Paul’s words to the Galatians are urgent, “Do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.” For you, slavery came in the form of gambling. It may have begun as harmless entertainment, a game, a thrill but soon it became a chain. If you’re not careful, the pull to return will resurface—often when you’re tired, discouraged, or lonely.

You may think, “I can handle it this time. I’ll just bet a little.” This is the myth of responsible gambling for someone who has struggled with addiction. But that’s the same lie that trapped you before. Freedom in Christ means drawing a firm boundary. You’re not trying to prove yourself anymore—you’re guarding what God has already given you. You’re free. Don’t submit again.

Remove the temptation

If you’re serious about walking in freedom, you have to create space for that freedom to grow. That means removing the bait that once hooked you. This is the most practical part of how to stop gambling.

Start by deleting every gambling and sports betting app from your phone—do it right now. Don’t wait until the end of this session—do it immediately. While you’re at it, clear your browser history, block access to gambling sites, and unsubscribe from the “betting experts.” Most importantly, ask someone to help with accountability. You may even have them set a password protected restriction on gambling sites on your browser in order to make it harder for you to bet.

Some people might think that all sounds extreme but Jesus said, “If your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away” (Matthew 5:30). If something is pulling you away from him, you shouldn’t try to manage it—you must remove it and fast.

Empowered by the Spirit—you’re not alone

One of the greatest lies the enemy tells us is that we’re on our own. But when you surrendered your life to Christ, you weren’t just forgiven—you were filled. The Holy Spirit now dwells within you. Galatians 5:16 tells us to, “Walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh.”

Placed in a family

One of the remarkable things about becoming a Christian is realizing that being united to Jesus means being united to his people. There is nowhere where this reality is made more clear for Christians than in the context of the local church. If you’re recovering from compulsive gambling, consider being honest with one of your elders or a few friends in the church who can walk alongside you. You may also look for gambling support groups or gambling addiction help within your community.

Practice new habits

Breaking old habits isn’t enough—you need new ones. This is part of breaking bad habits and replacing them with godly ones.

1. Renew Your Mind Daily. Romans 12:2 reminds us to “be transformed by the renewal of your mind.” This includes meditating on Bible verses about money to align your perspective with God’s.
2. Pray Honestly and Often. Share everything with him. Prayer is the lifeline of finding hope.
3. Tell the Truth—Stay Accountable. Isolation is the playground of relapse but community is where healing grows.
4. Invest in What Lasts. Gambling trained your heart to seek quick hits, but what does the Bible say about gambling? It points toward the danger of wealth gained hastily (Proverbs 28:20). Instead, invest in your relationships and service to others.

Growth takes time

Spiritual growth doesn’t happen all at once. It’s more like a long-term investment than a quick return. Even as you look at gambling in the Bible, you see that heart transformation is a process. Day to day, you might have ups and downs, but when you zoom out, there is an upward trend toward Christlikeness.

When you fall, get back up

If you fall, don’t give up. Don’t spiral into shame. Confess it to God and reach out to someone. Repent quickly and start again. Proverbs 24:16 says, “The righteous falls seven times and rises again.”

Keep your eyes on Jesus

Ultimately, walking in freedom is not about behavior management—it’s about heart transformation. When you remember what He did for you on the cross, you’ll stop chasing lesser thrills. This is the Christian life—not a life of sterile rule-following, but a life of vibrant love and joy in Jesus Christ.

—

Reflection Questions

1. What practical steps have you already taken to remove access to gambling? What else needs to go?
2. Which new habit (Bible reading, prayer, accountability, service) do you feel most drawn to begin cultivating this week?
3. What lies about your identity still try to define you? What does Scripture say instead?
4. How can you remind yourself daily that sanctification is a process, not a race?

—

Prayer to Begin

Father, thank You for setting me free in Christ. Help me walk in that freedom every day—strengthen my heart, reshape my desires, and lead me by Your Spirit. Help me grow in Christlikeness for Your glory. Amen.

Conclusion

Freedom in Christ is not just about walking away from something destructive—it’s about walking into something far greater. Throughout this life skill guide, you’ve taken a serious look at the hidden costs of gambling: the emotional highs and lows, the deceptive belief in a system, the spiritual erosion, and the relational damage. However, you’ve also seen the powerful invitation of the gospel—an invitation to return to the Father, to live as a beloved child, and to walk in newness of life.

Maybe your journey has been marked by deep regret. Maybe you’ve lost money, relationships, or years you can’t get back. Here’s the truth: no matter how far you’ve gone, you are not beyond the reach of grace. Jesus didn’t come for the cleaned-up and put-together—he came for the broken, the desperate, and the enslaved. He came for you if you would repent of your sin and trust in him for salvation.

You’ve learned that repentance is more than behavior change—it’s a heart turning back to God. You’ve been reminded that sanctification is a process, not a perfection contest. You’ve also been challenged to build new habits rooted in God’s Word, prayer, accountability, and service. None of this is easy but it is worth it because Christ doesn’t just set us free—he teaches us how to stay free.

There will still be moments of weakness. There may even be setbacks but you’re not the same person you were when you started this journey. You’re learning to live as someone who is adopted, chosen, filled with the Spirit, and being transformed. The old patterns don’t define you anymore—Christ does.

You may not see all the fruit yet and that’s okay. Growth takes time, just like a long-term investment. If you keep walking with Jesus, keep renewing your mind, and keep surrounding yourself with truth and accountability.

If you’ve walked through this life skill guide alone, I want to encourage you—don’t stay isolated because freedom flourishes in community. Find a church, a small group, or a trusted mentor who will walk with you, and don’t be afraid to share your story. Your experience—your struggle and your healing—may be the very thing God uses to help someone else break free.

The path ahead won’t always be easy but you’re not walking it alone. Christ goes with you, his Spirit lives in you, and his promises will never fail you. So, take the next step—not perfectly, but prayerfully—not with fear, but with faith. The chains are broken and the door is open. Walk in freedom—fully and freely, as a beloved child of God.

“For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’”

—Romans 8:15).

About Author

Luke Rininger is a high school teacher in Columbus, Ohio. He and his wife have three boys. Luke has degrees from Ohio University (Math Education), Grand Canyon University (Master of Education), Southern Seminary (Master of Divinity and Doctorate of Educational Ministry).