I’ve heard the phrase “blessed to be a blessing” my whole life, but it’s only in recent years that I’ve really begun to understand what it means. Not just as a cute saying or a line we nod along to in church—but as a way of living, trusting, and letting go.
If I’m honest, one of the clearest examples of this has always been my sweet sister. By default, she has been a blessing—to my mom and to me—over and over again. She didn’t have to be asked. She didn’t keep score. She just showed up. In big ways and small ones. In quiet sacrifices and loud love. When Mom needed help, my sister was there. When I needed encouragement, she was there. It flowed out of her naturally, like breathing. Watching her love has always reminded me that blessing others isn’t about excess—it’s about obedience and a willing heart.
The world tells us money is power. That it’s security. That it’s something to chase, hoard, fear, or worship. But I’ve never been able to see it that way. To me, money is a tool. Useful, yes—but not powerful. Not ultimate. Not worthy of fear. God alone holds that place.
And God has met my needs my entire life. Not always the way I expected. Not always early. But always faithfully.
A year ago, I was in a car accident, and something surprising happened. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t afraid. No spiraling thoughts. No panic. Just peace. I relied fully on God—and He did wonders. In that moment, I realized how far He had brought me, and how much trust He had already built in me without me even noticing.
Recently, I got to witness my sister being a blessing in someone else’s life, and it was beautiful. Truly beautiful. It reminded me again that blessing isn’t about having “extra.” It’s about being willing. God flows through people who keep their hands open.
Money, though? That’s been harder for me.
I’ve always been afraid of it. We didn’t have much growing up, and while Mom did her very best—and taught me a lot about survival—I also learned about the “magic” of credit cards. (Spoiler alert: not magic at all, and they always send a bill later.) Then I married someone who taught me another lesson: how selfishness can creep in, how wants can come before family needs, and how tithing becomes optional when trust in God is optional.
When my mom died, something shifted in me. The very first thing I did was increase my tithe to what it should have been all along. And I haven’t stopped since. Not because I suddenly had more money—but because I finally had more trust.
God has never, ever stopped being faithful to me. Even in seasons when I wasn’t faithful to Him. Even when fear was louder than faith. Imagine that kind of love.
I still struggle sometimes. Fear of money is a hard habit to break. Old mindsets don’t disappear overnight. But I’m getting better. Stronger. Freer. Every time I see God provide again, every time I get to bless someone else, every time I watch generosity multiply instead of deplete—I’m reminded why this matters.
God’s economy doesn’t look anything like the world’s. It’s not supposed to. If it did, we wouldn’t need Him nearly as much as we do—and let’s be honest, this world needs way more of Jesus. In God’s economy, giving doesn’t make you poorer. Trust doesn’t make you reckless. And blessing others doesn’t rob you—it aligns you.
And it’s important to remember that God’s provision isn’t just about money. Not when He gave Jesus. Not when Jesus poured out His blood. That was the ultimate payment. The debt we could never repay—paid in full.
“For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though He was rich, yet for your sake He became poor, so that you through His poverty might become rich” (2 Corinthians 8:9).
So why do I bother being afraid of something as fleeting as money?
I shouldn’t be.
Instead, I want to live open-handed. Grateful. Trusting. Willing to be a blessing the way my sister so naturally is. Because I don’t put my hope in numbers on a screen. I put my hope in the Lord—“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want” (Psalm 23:1).
So here I am—still learning. Still occasionally side-eyeing my bank account like it might jump out and scare me. Still reminding myself that money is a tool, not a tyrant, and definitely not my source. God is. Always has been. Always will be.
When I really stop and think about it, it’s almost laughable that I’m afraid of money. I serve the God who split seas, fed thousands with a kid’s lunch, and paid the greatest debt ever owed with His own Son. Compared to that, money is basically Monopoly cash. Useful? Sure. Powerful? Only if I let it be. Eternal? Not even close.
God’s economy is upside down by the world’s standards—and thank goodness for that. In His economy, generosity multiplies, faith beats fear, and blessing others somehow never leaves us lacking. “Give, and it will be given to you,” Jesus said—not as a threat, not as a transaction, but as a promise (Luke 6:38).
I don’t want to be ruled by fear over something so temporary. I want to be ruled by love—love for God, love for people, and the joy of getting to be a blessing.
Money comes and goes. God doesn’t. And when I remember that—really remember that—it becomes a whole lot easier to loosen my grip, open my hands, and smile… even while checking my bank account.
Faith Love n Joy 