THE HEART THAT GIVES
There is a sacred joy known only to the soul that gives. It is the quiet gladness of one who has learned that the heart of Christ beats outward, never inward. Love, if it be divine, cannot be confined. It must move, it must bless, it must spend itself. The true follower of Jesus does not ask, “How far must my kindness go?” but “How much of Christ can I show?”
Our Lord gave without measure. He fed the hungry crowds who neither understood His mission nor embraced His message (Mark 6:34–44). He healed those who would later cry for His crucifixion (Luke 23:21). His hands opened to the undeserving, for His heart was ruled by mercy. The spirit of Christ is the spirit of unbounded giving. When we set limits upon our compassion, we set limits upon our likeness to Him (Philippians 2:5–8).
Yet how subtle the temptation to guard what God meant to give. There are those who would fence their benevolence within the walls of their own fellowship, as though love could be divided by doctrine. They fear that grace will be wasted if it crosses the boundaries of the faithful. But such fear betrays a misunderstanding of grace itself. Grace, by its very nature, flows to the unworthy. If it stops to measure merit, it ceases to be grace (Romans 11:6).
The Apostle wrote, “As we have opportunity, let us do good to all men, especially to those who are of the household of faith” (Galatians 6:10). That one word—all—unlocks the heart of God. We do not serve men because they are saints, but because we are. The love of God within us recognizes no stranger. The moment we ask whether a person is “one of us,” we have already stepped away from the spirit of Christ.
Our Father in heaven gives to all. The sun does not inquire who is righteous before it shines. The rain does not select who may drink (Matthew 5:45). God gives because He is good. When His Spirit reigns within us, we too will give because we are filled with Him. The hand that is slow to open is a heart not yet free.
True religion, says James, is “to visit orphans and widows in their trouble” (James 1:27). The purest worship is not always sung from a church bench but lived in compassion. The funds of the church are not her treasure—they are her testimony. To withhold them from the hurting world is to hide the light under a bushel that Christ commanded us to lift high (Matthew 5:14–16).
There is no danger in giving too much. There is great danger in giving too little. The church that hoards her gold will soon find her spirit impoverished. But the church that pours herself out for others discovers that the oil never runs dry (1 Kings 17:14–16). For every act of love is a vessel through which the Lord fills anew.
When believers learn that the true stewardship of grace is not in calculation but in consecration, they will find that generosity is not a loss but a liberty. Every coin given in Christ’s name becomes a seed of eternal harvest (2 Corinthians 9:6–8). Every meal shared, every need met, every kindness offered is another echo of the cross—where God’s love gave all and kept nothing.
The heart that loves like this becomes a living altar, where Christ Himself dwells and delights (Romans 12:1–2). The secret of holy giving is not in abundance but in abandonment—the surrender of the will to the Spirit who loves through us.
Let us therefore give as God gives—freely, joyfully, without discrimination and without demand. Let us pour out our lives for the lost and the lonely, the broken and the bound. For when the church gives with open hands, she shows that her heart has been opened by grace.
“Freely you have received, freely give.” (Matthew 10:8)
Lord Jesus, teach me to love as You love. Let my hands be open because my heart is Yours. Deliver me from the fear that withholds and fill me with the faith that gives. Make my life a vessel of mercy, my words a balm of grace, and my heart a reflection of Yours. May all I do be done for Your glory and for the good of others. Amen.
Bryan Dewayne Dunaway
