Though I’ve had my share of birthdays, there are many life lessons that I learned as a child that I still hold dear and that serve as a daily guide for both my practical and spiritual life. Among those lessons are this one from my Dad: “Every job that helps a family put food on their table should be honored and valued.” He was not afraid of hard work, and he believed that all kinds of people with all kinds of gifts working together is what makes a community strong.

And from my Mom: “Don’t be discouraged. God has a plan and He will provide.” My faith foundations were formed at my mother’s side in the pew on Sunday mornings and through witnessing her countless acts of kindness to family, friends, and strangers. She was my model for what a “glad and generous heart” looked like.

Learning those lessons set my feet on a good path for developing a trusting relationship with God – but the path would be far from straight or easy. Through seasons of loss and grief, financial uncertainty, loneliness, and anger, I didn’t always see that grand “plan” that my Mom had told me about as a child. My life as a single mom meant that I couldn’t always give what I saw as “my share” of the time or the financial resources to support our church and schools in the ways I wanted. Many times, I questioned whether what I had to give – time, money, emotional energy – would ever be enough.

And yet God made it enough. His providence sustained me in ways that I couldn’t see in those early years of my adulthood but that are so clear to me now. The gifts of family connections, friends offering rides, strangers bringing meals and becoming friends, a faith community that became a second family, educational opportunities, grief support groups, the right job(s) at the right time… I leaned on my childhood truths and gave what I could – and God DID use it for good.

My trust in God and my life as a believer never was and never will be perfect. I know I’ll still have moments of doubt and uncertainty. Yet God loves me anyway and He has proven His faithfulness over and over again. May we all look for signs of God’s faithfulness every day and trust that He will take our gifts and make them “enough.” Let it be so.

Submitted by: Sheila Coleman

I’ve lived in 14 different homes in many beautiful neighborhoods. But none have felt like this one. It is truly special because of the generosity of 6 young children who live on my cul-de-sac.

Their first five words to me are often “Can we help you with…” followed by …”your groceries? Your trash cans? Your snow?” And they share their talents! “Here are cookies baked just for you. Pictures painted for you. Rocks decorated for your garden.” And presence: if they are playing outside they stop and come over to talk. And give hugs.

Not just to me. Through these loving children’s generous spirits the whole block has been drawn together in friendship. Simple acts of help, of handmade gifts, of presence ripple out beyond their homes to our entire neighborhood. These kiddos make me ask myself how I can be more generous.

In so many ways, this has been my experience at St Andrew’s. I have attended a number of churches, heard good music and well-crafted sermons. (Yes, we have that here too!) But since I first entered St. Andrew’s a year ago I noticed something more: people asking our community ‘Can we help you with…’ Followed by preparing care packages, giving food, warm clothes, prayers. Showing support and solidarity with marginalized community members. Generosity of small groups who gather to share their talents. People present with each other and giving generously of their time and energy. Generosity that ripples out beyond the church building to the larger community. The people at St. Andrew’s make me ask myself how I can be more generous.

I used to think I was a pretty generous person, but I have learned that it means more than donating things I no longer use, or giving expensive presents, or leaving a generous tip. My neighbor children and my church family at St. Andrew’s have shown me that true generosity means sharing my blessings beyond my little bubble to the larger community. To people I know, and those I have never met. It starts with a deep recognition that generosity might begin with our family, but can grow to touch our neighbors, our church, and the larger circle of our community.

Honestly, as I read the first 3 weeks of devotionals I expected to see mind-bending examples of giving on a grand scale. But they have helped me realize that generosity often starts simply, with people looking out for each other, sometimes in small ways. And this can ripple out and gain momentum until it touches people we may never meet. I trust that when I increase my financial pledge to St. Andrew’s it supports the work of people who serve others generously. Sometimes in small ways, sometimes on a larger scale. I feel very blessed to be able to be a part of that.

Submitted by: Lisa Fearnow

You will have to stay with me and move quickly past the initial part of this story. I promise it matters and you must promise not to hold it against me…

While watching a Real Housewives episode years ago, my friends and I were stuck on one of the housewives being so upset that no one brought her a casserole when she was distraught over something. I remember messaging in our group chat “I will always bring you guys a casserole” and from there we formed our Casserole Crew.

Whenever one of us is down or when one of us is up, we quickly group together the other ladies and activate the Casserole Crew. Thank goodness for places like Etsy and Venmo because we are able to quickly organize and support. We have supported each other through grief, medical situations, children births, graduations, and many more times/events. Last month I organized a care package for our friend after surgery. And I can close my eyes right now and remember seeing a dear friend, on behalf of the Crew, walking down the aisle at St. Andrew’s floral arrangement in hand surprising me the morning I was commissioned as a Stephen Minister.

And another moment comes to mind that shows this concept is more than cost in giving. In 2020, my uncle Jim suddenly passed away. He was my birth uncle and not someone I grew up knowing, but my birth mom was really going through it because she had been his caretaker for years when he was recovering from a stroke. During the time he lived with her, my oldest son became very close with him. He was his little buddy that watched sports, talked sports, and was his overall entertainment when Jim was in a very low place. Jim’s passing was the first person I watched my child lose. The Casserole Crew saw us struggling and they knew exactly what to do to lift spirits. They got Jackson a Cameo of Tommie Frazier expressing his condolences to Jackson on losing his uncle. He spoke to him directly in such a caring way. And he also shared his appreciation for the big Husker fans they are/were. My husband Brian was brought in by the Crew to coordinate the surprise and he watched me watch Jackson receiving this. In that moment I was in the middle of generational generosity. Jackson will never forget that and I know he will pay it forward time and time again.

In all the times we have supported each other, it has cost us no more than $5-$50 each. But feeling the love of opening the card that says from your Casserole Crew has always been priceless.

Here's the link to my FB post with the Cameo. https://www.facebook.com/share/v/1D3UvF77gq/

Submitted by: Sarah Pfiefer

He looked up and saw rich people putting their gifts into the treasury; He also saw a poor widow put in two small copper coins. He said, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all of them, for all of them have contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in all she had to live on.” Luke 21: 1-4

To be honest, this passage is one I have struggled with in the past. I live in a country full of wealth. I’ve never experienced poverty the way the woman in this passage has. In so many ways, I am more like the wealthy people in the story than the woman. The idea of giving everything I have fills me with anxiety. I’ve thought to myself, “How is this even possible, God? How could I possibly give everything I have? Who will take care of all the responsibilities I have?”

Reading this story again, I’m beginning to wonder if it’s not about the percentage or amount. Maybe my human understanding of measurement isn’t what the focus should be. Maybe it has more to do with the heart behind the gift. Maybe Jesus was trying to humble the wealthy men who were making a show of their gift. In a time when women were property and only valued for their ability to have babies, it would have been a slap in the face to these men for this poor widow to be praised for her gift.

So many times, we see Jesus step in and humble the people who thought they had something to brag about. He shows us that sometimes it’s the small, quiet gifts, the ones that no one sees, that seem to make the biggest impact.

As I’ve grown in my faith, I’ve come to learn that God isn’t interested in my show of generosity. God cares more that I’m open to giving, that I’m paying attention to the people around me, the least of these, and that I’m willing to share what I’ve been given in this life. God’s way of measuring a gift isn’t the same as our human way. I’ve learned that my gift, no matter what size, is more about changing me than how much it can do for others. Because when I choose to give money, time, energy, or any other resource to a cause, I’m paying more attention to the people God cares about. That seed of generosity that is planted when I give has the potential to grow and make me more like Christ.

At the end of the day, God has all of the resources there ever could be. God doesn’t need my meager drop in the bucket. When I give, no matter how much, I get to be part of God’s work in the world. I like getting to be a part of what God is doing on this Earth.

Submitted by: Erica Joslin

Twenty-three years ago, when I was a first-year medical student, I was assigned to shadow a cardiologist in a community practice in northern Baltimore. I was completely green and had next-to-no idea how the practice of medicine worked, and even less understanding of the nuances of health insurance. I spent my Friday afternoons following this doctor as he saw patients in clinic and rounded in the hospital, and I took note of the genuine care he had for his patients—many of whom had been coming to him for years. One afternoon, the front-desk receptionist called the doctor and told him that a long-time patient could not afford their copay and would have to cancel his appointment because he was already behind on his payments. The doctor knew this patient without needing to consult a chart and went to talk to him in the waiting area. The patient was in tears explaining all his financial hardships and his worry that his heart disease would worsen in the absence of treatment. The doctor reassured him, telling him that he would be happy to see him and not to worry about his insurance woes. Then, unbeknownst to the patient, he paid the copay and the balance from cash in his own wallet, ensuring that no bill would be due.

When placed into the context of greater philanthropy, this small gesture may not seem to be substantial. For this doctor, the amount of money was probably trivial, but to the patient it meant a great deal. As I progressed through my medical training, I saw instances where no such generosity was extended to patients in financial straits. But I also witnessed other acts of kindness that left an imprint in my mind: A technician paying for glasses for a child who couldn’t see without them. A nurse driving a man home from the clinic because he had no one to pick him up and couldn’t afford a cab.

As I finished training and became a physician myself, I tried to keep these acts of generosity in the back of my mind. Though it is easy to become caught up in the day-to-day stress of getting through the clinic schedule, I have strived to be more cognizant of my patients’ financial pressures and to make accommodations or even see patients and perform surgery without charge when the need arises. Observing even small gestures when we’re young can create magnified impacts years later, and though the relatively small bill my mentor paid for his patient years ago may seem insubstantial, I believe that it has paid a multitude of dividends in shaping my own journey to generosity.

Submitted by: Matt Brumm

As someone who works at the church, I wish I could say I already had this all figured out and already stretch myself in my giving. But I’ll be honest and say that I have been a very “comfortable giver”. I have attended church all my life and always give when the plate is passed around (or when the QR code or online giving time comes around). This Journey to Generosity series has been a new challenge to me to look seriously at my giving. Have I ever sat down and really thought about a true commitment to giving beyond my “comfortable giving” each month? I cannot say that I have.

I love being generous with my time, helping others with childcare, and bringing meals to new moms or families with sick children. I love to contribute to food pantry drives, clothing drives, and all the fundraisers at my children’s school and at church. That type of generosity comes easier to me. With this Journey to Generosity series, I have found myself being challenged around my financial generosity to the church. I have also had the opportunity to see the inner workings of a church, being employed here for over a year now, and realize even more how each individual’s generosity is so very needed to support the missions we are trying to live out.

As we set our staff goals for the year, I knew I wanted to take a deeper look at where God wants me to be in my giving. This is one of my personal goals for the beginning of this year. I know that this time of reflection and prayer will help me to grow spiritually because it requires more trust and getting out of my comfort zone in my Christian journey. So I’ll be right there with you, discerning what makes the most sense for me and my family, and what will challenge me to grow in my faith and trust in God’s work in my life.

Submitted by: Jenna Zurn

There was a time in my life when generosity looked like constant availability. I gave my time, my energy, and my attention wherever there was need. At first, it felt faithful — like I was doing what I was supposed to do.

Over time, that way of giving began to take a toll. I grew tired, resentful, and disconnected — not just from others, but from myself and from God. What I had once offered freely started to feel heavy. I didn’t recognize it right away, but I was burned out.

That season stretched me in ways I hadn’t expected. I was forced to ask hard questions: Is generosity meant to exhaust us? Is saying yes always the faithful response? And what happens when giving leaves us empty rather than rooted?

I was reminded of something Mr. Rogers often emphasized — that our worth isn’t measured by how much we do for others, but by who we already are. That reminder helped me slow down and listen. I began to pray differently, asking not just how I could help, but how I could give in ways that were honest and sustainable.

That shift helped me grow spiritually; I began to understand generosity as something practiced with intention rather than urgency. Giving became less about how much I could do, and more about offering what I could sustain. I learned that I am not responsible for meeting every need, and that God’s work does not depend solely on my availability.

Now, when generosity stretches me, I try to pay attention. I hold my time and energy with care, trusting that faithful giving flows from wholeness, not depletion. When generosity becomes a prayer, I’m reminded that God can do more with open hands than I ever could with clenched ones.

Submitted by: Lindsey Madsen

My husband, Gary, and I have been married for almost 37 years. And in that time we have been abundantly blessed. We both came from broken relationships and God new exactly what He was doing when He brought us together. Through His grace and many, many answered prayers for strength, guidance, wisdom, and patience, we successfully blended our family. We have four grown children who we are very proud of and four beautiful grandkids we dote on and who bring us so much love and joy. God has also sent many amazing people into our lives, many of them right here at St. Andrews. Life is indeed good.

But that was not always the case for me. I grew up in a very chaotic and dysfunctional home. My father carried demons from his own childhood into adulthood and his method of dealing with them was by drinking, which very quickly turned into an addiction. He was a truck driver/mechanic, and my mom was a cook/waitress. With five kids, money was always tight and often did not cover all the family’s needs. My father’s drinking often turned violent, and we would have to leave the house and find somewhere to spend the night – often outside. I remember sitting in the dark looking at the light streaming from nearby houses and trying to imagine what it would be like to live in a warm, safe, comfortable, and peaceful home. Because of the love and protection and guidance of my incredible mother, all five of us grew to be well-adjusted, functioning adults.

Now, because of the grace of God, I am the one living in a warm, safe, comfortable, and peaceful home with the light from my windows shining out into the world. It would be extremely easy for me to give a deep sigh of contentment and sit back and bask in my comfort. But I know there are people right now out in that ‘dark’ who are scared, vulnerable and who need help. I can relate to that very well. That is why Gary and I volunteer and donate to local causes and especially to St. Andrews. Jesus didn’t just tell us to love one another. He said, “As I have loved you, you must love one another.” (John 13:34) As I have loved you. That’s a sacrificial love that isn’t just a feeling or an emotion, it’s an action. It calls us to share our time, talents, presence, and gifts. I pray the Holy Spirit will move among us all and guide us to become more generous with what God has blessed us with and to love as Jesus loved.

Submitted by: Chris Main

Raising my son alone, there were many times I wanted to give financially to the church and in my community. But I just didn't have the means to do so. I wanted to do more to support those around me with less. So I found other ways to contribute.

When my neighbor and her family were chosen for a Habitat for Humanity home, I volunteered my time to help build it. What a great day that was when they were handed the keys!

As winter neared every year, I would gather unused coats, gloves and hats from our closets. Finding a new home for these items became a blessing for someone else.

If my son needed baked goods for a fundraiser, I would make a little bit extra.

As I spent time helping others a funny thing happened. I was giving and growing in my own faith journey and in God's grace. I was more willing to stretch and give a little more and God didn't let us go without.

So go clean a closet, bake some cookies, read to some kids at school, volunteer to help build someone's home, or go grocery shopping for a pantry need. Find your own way to give, however giving looks like to you.

It's not easy being the hands and feet of Christ, but the end result is indeed glorious.

Submitted by: Brenda Deaver

As a Mama of three, and a dog-mom, lol, most of my adult life has been focused on my family. In every way, I chose to invest in my family and our faith. Prayer and worship have been strong pillars, and I cannot imagine living this life without the power and presence of Jesus. That spirit-filled guidance is a treasure. I treasure every experience of word, prayer, praise, service and the connection with incredible people like you. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. Matthew 6:21

Certainly, I couldn’t love or treasure my daughters more. Even with the unwavering love and servant-heart required for motherhood, I can remember the days of feeling stretched just from the demands of this important calling. I always had enough love to give, in every form. There was always more patience, encouraging words or assurance, teaching, conflict resolution, more snuggles, prayers and silly songs. There was always more than enough daily bread WITH treats! Enough for every basic need, desire and then some. The Lord provided using me and despite me. I have lived and continue to live a life of faith, but to this day, I still have battles to face. I was convicted just this week of my selfishness, doubts and my weak areas of generosity.

I was reminded of a specific time when I was being challenged to make a decision about a mission trip to Hong Kong. This was out of my comfort zone, we didn’t have enough financial resources, it would be extremely difficult to include the kids etc. Everything about it seemed like too much. Long story short, I couldn’t ignore what God was wanting us all to be a part of. We committed and trusted, we served with some hardships and we worshiped with joy. We declared His love and authority, and yes, God helped us financially in order to make it all happen. Psalm 89:1-2 I will sing of the Lord’s great love forever. With my mouth I will make His faithfulness known through all generations. 

Still today I do my best to love fully. I will keep faithfully seeking even when it’s hard. Then, even more challenging, I will trust my Lord & Savior, my ultimate Truth & Treasure!

Submitted by: Jennifer Srygley

When my wife and I were first married, we were barely scraping by. Between the two of us we had one part-time job, and I was still trying to finish college. Money was always tight. We had one car, and it was old, worn out, and clearly about to give up. Eventually it started making an awful noise that we couldn’t ignore any longer. We didn’t have the money to have it inspected, much less fix whatever was wrong, but a local mechanic happened to hear it when we pulled into church one Sunday. He listened for a minute, then told us what the problem was. What he told us was burned into my memory so clearly that I remember it almost word for word: “Listen, I probably don’t give as much to the church as I should, but this is something I can do.” He told us he would do the work with no charge, and then said, “When you get the chance, you can do the same for someone else.”

He fixed our car and we didn’t pay him a dime.

At that point in our lives, that expression of generosity felt overwhelming. It wasn’t just about the money or the car. It was the relief of knowing we weren’t on our own, and that someone saw how close to the edge we were and decided to help without making it awkward or conditional.

We never forgot that moment. And as the years went on, and our situation slowly improved, we found ourselves on the other side of similar moments. We’ve had chances to help people who were just starting out, who needed help with childcare and baby clothes, or who needed transportation and basic supplies. At other times it’s been help with a bill or a place to stay for a while.

That early experience shaped how we think about generosity. We know that we can never pay that mechanic back. But what we can do is to recognize where we might have been without tangible expressions of love and support from people we barely knew… and try to do the next right thing when we see someone in trouble. And then we trust that what we give will find its way forward, the same way it did for us.

Submitted by: Pastor John Sievering

For nearly fifteen years I lived as a full-time support-raised missionary and mission mobilizer. It was not easy living off support-raised ministry and I earned a humble wage. However, God always provided what I needed and the relationships built with my ministry partners were such a precious connection that sustained me far beyond the finances that were given. It was awe-inspiring to see ministry partners donate faithfully across a decade or more and invest in the work that God was doing through me and the ministry I served with. I had the honor of witnessing truly beautiful things.

One thing that has always struck me, is that often the most generous givers were those with the least resources, and those with the most resources were often the least generous. I am sure there is more to their stories than what I was aware of. However, without fail, it was a team of metaphorical widows with their pennies that undergirded my ministry for over a decade, not the wealthy Christians that I assumed had lots of capacity to donate.

The ways of God’s Kingdom are not our ways, “the last will be first and the first will be last” (Matt. 20:16). We often think that tithing of our finances or other resources are for when we have more means. I know I have thought to myself before, “I will give more once I get that raise, or once I get my tax return, etc.” The financial challenges of life are not to be minimized and God cares about us in those situations deeply. And also, we can all give in proportion with what God has entrusted to us. I think of all my generous supporters in ministry over the years, and I have tried to imitate such saints by making my tithe a natural rhythm of life… built into the very rhythms of my weeks, months, and year. I am excited to be a part of a community that is embarking on a journey toward greater generosity together and to see what God will do with this humble offering.

Submitted by: Andrew Herbek

When I was growing up, the church I attended always cared for new mothers and families in a very generous way. Before Meal Train was even a thing, there was a network of “church ladies” who made sure spots were filled and meals were delivered. The moment I was old enough to participate, I did. I would make meals and deliver them to my friends who were having children and I loved every minute of it.

Through a series of events, I ended up leaving that church. I floated for a while, not knowing where I would land, but I always carried that spirit of care and generosity with me wherever I went. Friends home with illness or new babies always received a meal or a basket of snacks to make their life just a little bit easier – filling a basic need so they could concentrate on other pressing matters.

When I met my now-husband, we joined a church together. It was the first church I belonged to as a member since the one I grew up in. Eventually, we were married in the church, and about a year later we found out I was pregnant. Among the many things I was excited about in my pregnancy, I knew in my heart of hearts that I would also be cared for in the way I had seen growing up. People would rally around us, provide meals, etc. But, that never happened. No one created a Meal Train, no one signed up to provide us with meals. It was actually quite disappointing, if I am being completely honest. I was confused and sad.

I decided then and there that none of my friends would ever feel this way. I offer to bring meals, I sign up for Meal Trains, I offer to SET-UP the Meal Train. No one will ever feel neglected or abandoned the way I did.

There were many faults and hurt that I experienced at the church of my childhood – but one thing they did right was expressing generosity through hospitality and it is something that has stuck with me all these years.

Submitted by: Christi Leupold

One of the ways I have learned to “pay it forward” in generosity came years ago during the overwhelming days after bringing home each of my babies. Those early newborn days with a new baby are always a joyful but exhausting blur. In the midst of sleepless nights and the steep learning curve of early parenthood, I was blessed with friends who showed up at my door with meals.

These meals weren’t elaborate or fancy. In fact, the simplicity was part of the gift. Easy take-out or a quick crockpot meal dropped off with simple instructions—food that required no decisions, no planning, no extra effort from me— was life-giving. Those gestures made the long days feel lighter. They told me, without saying a word, “You are not alone. Let us carry this part for you.”

Looking back, I realize those friends were modeling generosity in one of its most practical and loving forms. They were creating space for rest, nourishment, and care when I had little capacity to do so myself. Their generosity wasn’t flashy, but it was profoundly attentive. It met a real need in a tangible way.

Those experiences helped shape my understanding of generosity. They helped show me that impact can be measured by thoughtfulness and timing rather than complexity or cost. Now, when a friend or family member brings home a new baby or is in an overwhelming season of life, I try to follow the example that was first given to me, delivering a simple meal. I remember how much it mattered to me.

I did not recognize the power of such a simple act until I was on the receiving end of it. Generosity, I’ve learned, often multiplies quietly—passed from one tired household to another, one doorstep to the next. Sometimes paying it forward is simply repeating what someone once did for you, trusting that small kindnesses can carry far more weight than we imagine.

Submitted by: Julie Wagner

When my wife, Hannah, and I were preparing for the birth of our first child in 2022, a family from St. Andrew’s offered to set up a MealTrain for us. Once this was set up and sent out, we were blown away by the number of people who signed up to bring us food. After Eliza was born, our fridge quickly began to runneth over with delicious casseroles and soups. These meals were truly a godsend as we adjusted to parenthood. And on top of that, the short interactions we got to have with other adults when they brought meals to the house helped keep us sane. During this time we experienced the church as a family like never before.

Following that experience, our family has made it a priority to bring meals and other necessities to anybody we know who is expecting a baby. To be clear, the vast majority of this work is done by Hannah. She carefully plans meals and snacks that will be nutritious and practical for families, and goes to great lengths to put everything together. I mostly assist by keeping our kids occupied and making the occasional run to the grocery store. As our daughter has grown up, she has become excited about helping Hannah prepare meals and learning how they’re going to help people. It’s wonderful to see her develop this desire to give to other families in the same way that families gave to us when she was born.

Submitted by: Jake Wiese

When my family moved from Nebraska so that I could attend seminary in 2012, it was a grand experiment in trusting God’s generosity. Ruby’s dad, Matt, and I had both quit our jobs. She was starting second grade in a brand-new school, and we didn’t know anyone in our new hometown of Madison, New Jersey. Launching out on our own, without old friends or family nearby, gave us ample opportunity to trust in God’s provision.

At the end of her first week of school, Ruby was excited to introduce me to her new friend, Claudia. Claudia had noticed Ruby and approached her, and they quickly became friends. They wanted to have a playdate, so they dragged me over to Claudia’s mom, Diana, and introduced us. A playdate was scheduled.

While Ruby and Claudia played in Claudia’s room, Diana asked me how I was settling into life in Madison. I told her it was wonderful. My classes were engaging and life-giving, and Matt had even gotten a job working for The Trevor Project (an organization that seeks to prevent LGBTQ youth suicide) in New York City. The only problem, I confessed, was that once Matt started his job, I wasn’t sure who would pick Ruby up from school on Tuesdays and Thursdays, since my late classes meant I couldn’t.

Diana did not hesitate for an instant. “Ruby can come home and stay with me and Claudia until you get out of class.” When I protested, saying that was a big commitment and that I didn’t want to inconvenience her, she did not budge. She told me, “You are a stranger here who does not know anyone, and we are your neighbors. We will help you.”

And so, Diana and Claudia picked up Ruby from school two days per week for almost all six semesters I was in seminary. When Diana wasn’t available, Claudia’s grandmother picked her up instead. I was awed by this generosity. I couldn’t imagine myself being so quick to jump in and commit to this kind of help.

Only later did I find out that Claudia’s family were Quakers, and that Diana had been raised Catholic in Colombia and had seriously considered becoming a nun before marrying Claudia’s father. Then it all made sense. Welcoming the stranger and loving her neighbor were fundamental to who Diana was.

That day, I encountered Christ in Diana, who offered her time without counting the cost. I learned as much about following Jesus as any seminary class could ever teach me.

Submitted by: Pastor Chris Jorgensen

In 1999, when I was a senior in high school, my dad suffered a heart attack. He was airlifted from our small town in western North Carolina to a large hospital in Charlotte, about 2 hours away. Everything happened very quickly, and our family felt like the rug was pulled out from under us. He had triple bypass surgery and recovered well, but my mom and I spent the next few weeks driving back and forth to Charlotte nearly every day to be with him as much as possible.

My parents both worked full-time, and while they were able to meet all of our family’s needs, they were by no means wealthy. We knew that the expense of such a complex surgery and lengthy hospital stay would be overwhelming. But one thing we were not prepared for was the immediate expenses of what would become our daily 4-hour round-trip trips to the hospital—gas, meals on the go, parking, and occasional overnight hotel stays. These were the sorts of things that medical insurance would not cover. These were also the sorts of things that, at that time, often had to be paid in cash.

On our harried drive to Charlotte on day one, my mother, through tears, confided in me that as she was rushing out of her office, a co-worker had stopped her and pressed a few hundred dollars into her hand, saying simply, “You will need this.” This co-worker and friend had experienced the same situation with her husband and knew the toll it took. It was a small gesture that wasn’t really small at all. That money saved us during those first few days while we were getting our bearings. It was given out of simple generosity and understanding. This woman had been in our shoes and knew what the situation required, and she gave in a way that was likely a financial squeeze for her. But she knew in that moment that it was what we needed to get by. My mom, who valued financial independence and was loathe to take money charitably, accepted the gift and was so grateful for it. These events were more than 25 years ago, but I remember them well. I remember the generosity of the giver, giving because she knew what was needed. I remember the gratitude of my mom, accepting a gift she knew that she needed. Provision can be a two-way street. Sometimes we are the ones relying on it, but other times, we are the ones being used by God to provide. May we have the discernment to know how to heed God’s call when each of those scenarios find us.

Submitted by: Erin Brumm

I moved to Omaha a little over a decade ago, fresh from very significant life changes. I felt God’s call to move here after a lifetime in metropolitan Chicago. Faced with considerable debt, I only had myself to rely upon. Talk about having to trust God for everything!! A small voice in my mind (definitely the Holy Spirit) asked me to put God’s work first and the rest would come together. I stepped out in faith and made the first “bill” I paid each month be my tithe to church. It wasn’t easy and, believe me, I doubted how things could work out. But God honored my effort. I magically didn’t overcome all my debts, but God faithfully gave me enough to meet all obligations. I’ve learned that trusting God in ALL things really means ALL things!

Submitted by: Patty Corwin

If I’m being honest, giving has never been my spiritual strong suit. I want to be generous. I like the idea of generosity. But actually giving? That’s where my inner accountant wakes up, opens a spreadsheet, and starts asking very unspiritual questions like, “But what if we need this later?” Because giving requires trust. And trust, at least for me, doesn’t always come naturally.

Scripture tells us, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not rely on your own insight. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths” (Proverbs 3:5-6). That sounds beautiful, doesn’t it???… That is until it asks me to loosen my grip. Trusting God’s provision and providence means admitting that I am not, in fact, the one holding everything together. Which is humbling. And inconvenient.

I learned something about generosity during one of the hardest seasons of our lives. When our middle son was born fourteen years ago at just 1 pound, 12 ounces, he spent his first four months in the NICU, three hours away from home. My wife stayed there full-time. I worked during the week, cared for our older kids, and drove back and forth every weekend. The emotional toll was heavy. The financial toll was heavier.

I didn’t tell anyone how tight things were. I figured that was my responsibility to manage. But then, out of nowhere, the worship team at our church, the same one I played guitar for, took up a collection for us. They sent it in a card with handwritten encouraging messages.

Yes, the money helped. We needed it. But what stayed with me was the generosity itself. The reminder that we weren’t alone, that people saw us, that God was providing through the hands of others. In that moment, generosity felt less like charity and more like grace.

That experience still challenges me. Because when I give, I’m not just funding a budget line, I might be becoming the unexpected card, the quiet provision, the tangible reminder that God hasn’t forgotten someone.

Giving stretches our trust. It asks us to open our hands instead of clenching our fists. And maybe that’s the point. Because open hands are better at receiving, too.

So, here’s the challenge for me as much as for you: What might God do if we trusted Him just a little more than our spreadsheets, our personal preferences, and our carefully curated sense of control?

Submitted by: Chris Smith

When I was in 3rd grade, my dad was my minister, and my mom was my Sunday School teacher. Before receiving our Bibles that year, we were supposed to memorize the 23rd Psalm, the Lord’s Prayer, the Apostle’s Creed, etc. The “carrot” was not the Bible with my name in gold on the front; it was a prize bucket. Truly, I am as motivated today by tootsie rolls and bubble gum as I was 50+ years ago. I had those words down pat in two weeks flat! But insofar as I could recite each by heart, they didn’t mean much at 9—especially the 23rd Psalm. Lying down in green pastures? I barely went outside. Restoring my soul? From what? And “death” was a grown-up word I felt uncomfortable uttering.

Fast forward 20 years. My marriage was in trouble; my heart and finances were troubled. Suddenly, “I shall not want” seemed like a cruel joke. I wanted for so much and couldn’t find a place to get it, except at work. I adored my students and was good at my job, but I had little else. Home wasn’t a happy place: it seemed like I was always holding my breath, waiting for some other proverbial shoe to drop. Church was a lonely place. I could walk in, worship, and walk out without ever exchanging one word with another person. It’s hard when you grow up in a parsonage, front and center in a church family, and then suddenly you’re a grown up, and nobody knows your name.

Fast forward another 20 years. As always, my parents were there to pick up the pieces, financial and otherwise, in the passing decades. I now have a different community, a different marriage, a different church, and a lifelong commitment to justice. When I began my journey for social change, guided by the National SEED project (on which JEDI is based), I started seeking people, places, and experiences that fit my core values, purpose, and beliefs. I started living my life as God calls me to provide, protect, guide, and comfort–especially those who have less power, money, safety, and support. Lest this look too “list-y,” this is the “path of righteousness” for me. God calls all of us in different ways–sometimes loudly and sometimes quietly–but always with the promise that “goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Submitted by: Kim Samuelson