God Has Been Gentle With Me

About two years ago, I went to a completely normal church service.

Nothing special on the calendar. Nothing dramatic in anyone's expectations.

Our church was in a series about giving. For context, our church never passes an offering plate. There are simply giving stations in the lobby. It’s quiet. Unforced. Respectful.

That weekend, the pastor stood up and said something unexpected:

“We’re not taking up giving this weekend — because I want you to know this isn’t about the church getting your money.”

And then something happened that no one planned.

From somewhere in the crowd, a woman’s voice rang out — nervous, but firm:

“You can’t preach on giving and not give us a chance to give.”

The room paused.

Pastor Chad smiled, thought for a moment, and said — completely off the cuff:

“Alright then. We’re going to do this differently. If you want to give, come lay money on the stage. If you have a need, come and take whatever you need.”

No system.

No screening.

No questions.

Just trust.

What followed was one of the most sacred moments I’ve ever witnessed.

People came forward trembling — some to give, some to receive. Tears flowed freely. Praise and thanksgiving broke out from those participating and from those simply watching. It felt like the book of Acts had quietly stepped into the room.

And there I was — standing, watching, giving thanks to God for moving in such a powerful way.

And also… being proud.

The Backstory

At the time, I was in between jobs. My wife and I were Ubering to make ends meet. We weren’t starving. We weren’t desperate. But we were living very much day to day inside our monthly budget.

We were capable.

Resourceful.

Managing.

And because of that, I had already decided something deep in my heart:

I don’t need help.

I don’t ask.

I don’t take charity.

We’ll make it.

That’s who I believed I was.

And then, in the middle of all that movement and generosity, I heard God’s voice.

Not loud.

Not dramatic.

Just two words:

“Go.”

Short.

Clear.

Loving.

At the front, Pastor Chad was telling those coming forward to count out what they needed.

“If you need to take from more than one pile to have enough — take whatever you need.”

I didn’t have a number.

I only had obedience.

So I went.

I reached out. Took a handful. Didn’t count it. And walked back to my seat.

For me, the amount wasn’t the point.

God was doing something far deeper.

What He Was Really After

It wasn’t provision.

It was pride.

That moment wasn’t about money at all — it was about letting myself be loved.

I need you to hear this:

That is a Father.

God could have broken my pride through loss.

Through humiliation.

Through tragedy or prolonged hardship.

But He didn’t.

Instead, He met me gently — in the middle of need — and loved the pride out of me.

How kind is that?

How patient?

Yes, Scripture tells us He disciplines those He loves.

But He is also tender.

Attentive.

Gentle with His sons.

That day, He didn’t crush me.

He invited me.

The Shift

I don’t know what would have happened if I had ignored His voice.

If I had stayed seated.

If I had clung to my independence.

But I do know this:

The seismic shift that followed in my life wouldn’t have happened.

I might still be wrestling with pride — or worse, mistaking it for strength.

So let me ask you something I’ve had to sit with myself:

How hard is it for you to allow God to love on you?

Not earn it.

Not manage it.

Not deserve it.

Just receive it.

I can tell you from experience — it is far better to listen, to go when He says go, and to receive His gentle love than anything you could ever imagine.

God has been gentle with me.

And I’m grateful I didn’t resist Him when He was.

-nine