Honor the Lord with your wealth, with the first fruits of all your crops; then your barns will be filled to overflowing, and your vats will brim over with new wine. Proverbs 3:9-10
Sérgio looked at his banking app and felt the familiar knot in his stomach. His salary had just been deposited, but the feeling was not one of relief, but of anxiety. His mind was already in defense mode, calculating every cent, dreading every unexpected expense. To him, money was synonymous with security, and security was something he never had enough of.
He and his wife, Beatriz, were Christians, but their views on finances were from different planets. Beatriz firmly believed in tithing and offering, in giving the “first part” with a cheerful heart. To Sérgio, this was mathematically illogical.
“Bia, we can’t!” he argued that morning, showing her his phone screen. “Look at the rent, the car payment, the kids’ school. After we pay for everything, there’s barely anything left. Giving ten percent right off the top is irresponsible. It’s taking from our family.”
“But the promise, Sérgio…” she replied in a gentle voice. “It’s about honoring God first. It is an act of trust, not of accounting.”
“Trust doesn’t pay the bills,” he retorted, ending the discussion.
Sérgio operated on the logic of fear. He gave God the leftovers, what remained after all his anxieties were appeased. And, invariably, there was never anything left. His financial life was a perpetually near-empty storehouse. He guarded every grain with desperation, and because of that, there was never abundance, only the constant feeling of scarcity.
That same month, the small church they attended announced a special project: to renovate the house of Mrs. Íris, an elderly widow in the community whose roof had collapsed after a heavy rain. Beatriz came home with her eyes shining.
“Sérgio, I felt it in my heart that we need to help. I thought we could donate the money we were saving to replace the television.”
Sérgio felt a wave of panic.
“The television? Bia, we have been saving for six months! It is our money, our comfort! Mrs. Íris has children, she has the city…”
“She has no one, Sérgio. And we are the church,” she said, the firmness in her voice cutting through the air. “Honoring God is not just about the tithe. It is with what we have. With our substance.”
The argument was long and painful. In the end, exhausted, Sérgio gave in, but with a heavy heart, feeling like a fool. He saw the money leaving his account not as an offering, but as a loss.
Over the weekend, he reluctantly went with Beatriz and other church members to help with the work. While he was fixing the plumbing, he saw the joy on the faces of volunteers who had much less than he did. He saw Mrs. Íris crying with gratitude as she received a basket of groceries. And he saw his wife, Beatriz, her face smudged with dust, laughing as she painted a wall, more beautiful than he had seen her in years.
Something inside him began to change. That joy, that community, that sense of purpose… that was a kind of wealth his bank statement did not show.
On Monday, he arrived at work and his boss called him in. “Sérgio, I know things are tight for everyone, but the board has approved a performance bonus for your team for last semester’s project. It’s not much, but it’s a recognition.”
The bonus amount was almost exactly the same as what he and Beatriz had donated for the renovation.
Sérgio stood frozen in front of his desk. The skeptic inside him screamed “coincidence.” But his heart, for the first time, whispered “providence.” It was not a payment, but a wink from God. An affirmation.
That night, he came home, opened his banking app, and did something he had never done before. Before paying any bills, he transferred the tithe. He gave the first part.
There was no instant financial miracle. But the knot in his stomach had disappeared. For the first time, he looked at the remaining balance and felt not fear, but peace.
In the months that followed, Sérgio and Beatriz continued to practice generosity. And different things began to happen. An unexpected promotion for him. A part-time job that fell into her lap. Expenses that seemed to decrease. The money, which was once a source of stress, seemed to stretch in ways his logic could not explain.
Their material storehouses were never overflowing like a millionaire’s. But his inner storehouse, that of his heart, was full. And their home, once tense with the anxiety of scarcity, began to overflow. Not with wine, but with something far more precious: a deep joy and peace, born from the trust of one who honors the Owner of everything, first.
(Made with AI)
This story is part of my book Everyday Wisdom
https://books2read.com/u/3knogL
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