Chapter Faith and Financial Stewardship

Managing resources as an act of faith

Dearest Sarah,

I’ve been thinking a lot about the little things lately, the seemingly insignificant moments that sometimes hold the biggest truths. This week, it was a single coin in a cup of coffee.

I was at the local coffee shop, the one with the worn wooden tables and the smell of roasted beans always lingering in the air. I ordered my usual latte, the barista smiled, and as I reached for my wallet, a familiar feeling of anxiety fluttered in my stomach. I often struggle with this, the constant tug between wanting to be generous and the fear of not having enough.

This time, though, something shifted. As I rummaged through my bag, I realized I only had a single dollar bill. I debated for a moment, wondering if I should just add some extra to the tip jar instead. But then, I looked at the barista again, her kind eyes twinkling, and I knew. In that moment, the coin in my pocket, a simple quarter, felt like a small act of faith. Not just faith in God, but faith in the goodness of the world, the beauty of sharing, even in the smallest way.

It made me think about how we often approach money as a source of stress, a constant calculation of needs vs. wants, of security vs. generosity. But perhaps, just perhaps, there's another way, a way of seeing money as a tool, a resource to be used for good, not just to hoard or consume.

I know, Sarah, you've always been a generous soul, but even you might agree, it's a constant struggle, isn't it? How do we reconcile the desire to care for ourselves and our families with the call to share with those in need? How do we balance our personal desires with the broader needs of the community?

I don't have all the answers, Sarah. I'm still figuring it out myself. But that little coin in the cup, that small act of trust, made me realize that maybe, just maybe, the key lies in finding a balance between what we give and what we receive, between our personal needs and the needs of others. Maybe it's about learning to trust that enough will be provided, even if it means letting go of some things we hold dear.

Ultimately, it's about living with an open hand, ready to give and receive, not just in terms of money, but in every aspect of life. It's about recognizing that we are all connected, woven together in the fabric of humanity, sharing a common journey.

So, Sarah, as you go about your day, maybe take a moment to notice the little things, the seemingly insignificant acts that might hold a bigger truth. Maybe you'll find, as I did, that even a single coin can be an offering, a small prayer, a gesture of faith in the goodness of the world.

With love.

Perhaps this is the true essence of financial stewardship – not a rigid system of budgeting or a strict set of rules, but rather a living, breathing act of faith, a dance of giving and receiving, a constant dialogue with the universe. And maybe, just maybe, it's in those little moments, the seemingly insignificant acts of trust and generosity, that we find true abundance.

What do you think?