When I look back over my life, I can see how God has been shaping my understanding of generosity long before I would have used that word to describe it.
For me, generosity has never ultimately been about money. It has always been about relationships. About trust. About learning who God is and responding to Him.
Even as a young girl, I sensed that God was near. I remember moments where I felt deeply aware that He saw me personally. That awareness became the foundation for so much of my faith journey—and eventually, my understanding of generosity.
One moment in particular early in my marriage, marked me deeply. Chris and I were newly married and navigating a season of financial uncertainty. We had very little, but I felt prompted to give in a way that honestly didn’t make sense on paper. Shortly after, God provided in such a specific and personal way that I walked away overwhelmed—not by the provision itself, but by the realization that the God of the universe saw me. He cared about my obedience, my heart, and even the small opportunities I had to respond to Him.
It felt as though He was saying:
“I see you, and I’m going to move heaven and earth so you don’t miss an opportunity to respond to my goodness.”
That moment changed something in me.
Over time, Chris and I would walk through extraordinary blessings, including the success and eventual sale of a business that entrusted us with more wealth than we ever imagined. But alongside those blessings came deep suffering, including the heartbreaking loss of our son.
People sometimes assume joy and sorrow exist on opposite ends of life. But for us, they often ran side by side.
Those tracks of joy and grief were parallel. And strangely, some of the deepest experiences of generosity came in the middle of profound pain. I discovered something I never would have chosen to learn this way:
Generosity is not outcome-based. It’s not a transaction with God. It’s not giving, so life turns out easier.
It’s not about controlling results. Generosity is relational. It is an invitation into intimacy with God.
When suffering stripped away certainty and control, what remained was Him. And in those seasons, I learned there is a special grace in discovering that He truly is enough. Not theoretically. Actually enough.
The joy of giving and being on mission with the Lord became one of the things that steadied us in grief. It reminded us that darkness would not have the final word. That God was still moving. Still giving. Still inviting us into His Kingdom work. I often say, “You cannot out give God.“ And I believe that more today than ever.
Not because He always returns material blessings, but because every act of generosity opens the door to more of His heart. More trust. More freedom. More joy.
One of the greatest gifts generosity has given me has actually been in my marriage. Watching Chris become burdened for Kingdom causes, watching him respond to God with openness and courage—it has deepened our unity in ways I can hardly describe. There are moments when I see him moved by generosity, and I honestly feel myself fall in love with him all over again. Because generosity changes us. It loosens our grip.
It reminds us we are stewards, not owners. It teaches us to define “enough” differently. And perhaps most importantly, it teaches us where true joy is found. I think many people are searching for joy while trying to avoid surrender. But in the Kingdom, those things are often connected. Sometimes I have prayed like Jacob:
“I won’t let go until You show me Your joy.” And over and over, God has met me there. Not always by removing suffering. But by revealing Himself inside of it.
That is why I believe generosity matters so deeply. Not because God needs something from us, but because He wants something for us. A fuller life. A freer heart. A deeper intimacy with Him. Generosity is simply one way He leads us there. And if there is one thing I hope others walk away knowing, it’s this: You can have 100% confidence in God. He is not a taker. He is a giver. And whatever season you find yourself in today—whether abundance, uncertainty, grief, or joy—He is enough.
*This blog post was thoughtfully adapted from Teri’s interview on the Finish Line podcast. You can hear her complete live interview on the podcast here.

