From Spilled Coffee to Spilled-Out Lives:

Choosing Bold Generosity

This is the fourth in a series. You can find Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3 here.

One Sunday I arrived at church, juggling my coffee and belongings as I made my way inside. While attempting to open the door to the fellowship hall, I fumbled the things I was carrying and suddenly coffee was everywhere. It was 8:30 in the morning and now my clothes were soaked, broadcasting my clumsiness to everyone. Thankfully, it dried before the service started.

The next week as I was moving to the front pew to get ready to preach, it happened again. This time, just a small spot, but I was self-conscious as I imagined the congregation seeing the evidence of my mishap when I got up to preach. Sheila quickly brought some paper towels to help clean it up, but I couldn't shake the anxiety and embarrassment bubbling up inside.

As I dabbed at the stain, I began to pray: God, what am I afraid of right now? I heard God say I was afraid of people thinking I was irresponsible. I followed up with this question: Why do I believe that? Who told me I was irresponsible? These answers also came quickly - people in my childhood telling me to be more careful when I spilled, the sting of feeling foolish and inadequate.

But then I asked God how he sees me. I heard God's whisper: "I see you as someone who is beloved. This has no effect on whether people think well of you or not. And if they judge you for this, that's their problem, not yours."

I was grateful, followed by a surprising prompt: "Get up and tell them about it. Share this moment with your church family." And so, I stood up and began to share.

The Lies of the False Self

This spilled coffee revealed something crucial - something that lies at the heart of our struggle to live boldly and authentically as followers of Christ. The identity we operate from when we're anxious about others' opinions is not our true self. It's not the beloved child God created us to be, the one who can rest in the freedom of His unconditional love and acceptance. Instead, it's a false self, cobbled together from past wounds, fears, and societal expectations. It’s our way of self-promoting and self-protecting.

When we live from this counterfeit identity, we become enslaved to people-pleasing, perfectionistic striving, and the exhausting pursuit of approval and validation. We fixate on maintaining a flawless image, terrified that if people saw the real us - they would reject and condemn us.

This was my fear that morning, as I replayed old tapes of being chastised for childish clumsiness and felt the weight of my leadership position. What would people think if they saw their pastor in such a state? Surely they expected me to have it more together than this.

But this is not the abundant life Jesus promised. His desire is not for us to be shackled to the opinions of others, monitoring our every move and presenting the “right” image. He wants us to live and serve and give from a place of deep security, knowing we are fully loved and accepted by Him, coffee stains and all.

As I shared about my coffee spill that morning and the lies I'd been believing, I could see appreciation in people’s eyes. We were there together recognizing how often we get caught in fear. We knew our need for grace. In choosing weakness over image management, a door opened to deeper connection, empathy and encouragement.

The Struggle of Hyper-Vigilance

Between the two coffee catastrophes, I had a pivotal moment in prayer. As I sat in silence, I sensed God asking, "What are you afraid of right now?" To my surprise, the immediate response that arose in my spirit was, "Peace." I physically recoiled. Peace? Why on earth would I fear the very thing Jesus came to give?

"Because deep down, you believe you always need to be on guard," came the answer. "You've learned to be hyper-vigilant - always bracing for the next threat, the next crisis, the next painful loss. It's your attempt to control the uncontrollable and prevent things from going badly."

I asked, “Who told me I need to be hyper-vigilant.” And the answer I got was, “You got it from your dad.” As I sought to better understand my father’s life, I remember he had experienced the loss of his father when he was only thirteen. When he died, the weight of providing for the family fell on his and his brother's young shoulders. They worked hard on the farm, carrying not only their grief, but also the mantle of adult responsibility.

Leading up to my grandfather's death, he had been losing strength but didn't know he was sick. So my dad and his brother took on more and more of the workload, and resentment began to simmer - why wasn't their father helping more? When he passed, that anger turned into sorrow and guilt. Now, these young teens were forced to carry the survival of the family alone.

Hyper-vigilance, for my dad, became a way to have a sense of security in a world that felt dangerous and unpredictable. He was determined to foresee and prevent and damage-control his way to safety. And without realizing it, I had absorbed this same posture.

I realized how much I still operated from this vigilance decades later. The perpetual scanning for potential threats, the inability to fully exhale or let my guard down, the thought that the other shoe was always about to drop. This was part of every aspect of my life.

I found myself always on alert for how God might be displeased with me or about to allow something terrible. I couldn't lean fully into His love and goodness because I was instinctively tensed against getting hurt again. This vigilance masqueraded as spiritual responsibility and alertness, but it was ultimately rooted in self-protection and a difficulty with trusting God completely.

Kingdom Realities vs. Living in Illusion

As believers, we can so easily fall into the trap of relentless striving and performing - of feeling like we have to prove our worth and earn God's love through our good behavior. We cling to the worldly illusions of security - a polished image, a comfortable bank account, a spotless reputation. We run ourselves ragged trying to do and be "enough," terrified of failing or letting people down.

But Jesus modeled and invited us into a radically different way of being. In the prayer He taught His followers, He gives us a blueprint in the Lord’s prayer for anchoring our lives in the unshakeable realities of God's Kingdom rather than the shifting sands of our culture's values. These phrases address our present, past and future.

"Give us this day our daily bread," He instructs us to pray for our present need. In other words, cultivate a posture of daily dependence on God, trusting Him to provide exactly what you need moment by moment. Find your core security in His faithful, fatherly care rather than your own striving and stockpiling.

So much of my angst that morning stemmed from self-reliance - from feeling like I needed to have it all together, to be unfailingly competent and impressive as a leader. But Jesus invites me to bring my needs and inadequacies to the Father, to let Him be the source of my strength and sufficiency. When I remember that my very breath is a gift from His hand, something shifts. I can cease my frantic doing and simply be His beloved child.

"Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors," Jesus continues as he helps us address our past. Bring your failures and hurts to God regularly, receiving His forgiveness and extending that same mercy to those who wrong you. Refuse to be imprisoned by bitterness, resentment, and shame. Choose the freedom of a clear conscience and soft heart.

As I process the memories that are pressing on me, I sense an invitation from God to forgive those whose words had wounded me. To release them from the debt of my hurt and anger. To break agreement with the lies that allowed that to define me. As I took those memories to the Father and let Him speak His acceptance over me, I experienced a lightness and liberty. Forgiveness is the key to Kingdom joy and transformation.

"Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil." We also are invited to trust God for our future. Rely on God's strength and protection as you navigate a world full of sin and brokenness. Keep your desires and decisions anchored to His heart so you aren't duped or derailed by temptation. Actively resist the enemy's schemes by staying in step with the Spirit. Ask God to reveal the internal desires that need to be given to him because they would cause temptation.

I'm prone to being trapped by the temptation of performance. To hustling after anticipating threats while neglecting the hard, holy work of abiding in Christ. But when I let His beauty and goodness captivate my gaze, when I sit in the majesty of His unshakeable Kingdom, lesser things start to lose their attraction. I experience the glorious freedom of living wholly for His Kingdom.

The Generosity of Surrender

As I've been learning about the path of surrendering hyper-vigilance and self-reliance, I've tasted more of the abundant life Jesus promises. The more I release my grip on my situation and resources, the more I experience His peace and provision flowing through me.

I'm learning that true generosity is not about dutifully writing bigger checks or saying yes to every request for time. It's about staying so in tune with the Father's heart that I'm free to give spontaneously and sacrificially as He leads. It's about taking risks to love in a specific direction, without calculating the cost or outcome.

Recently, my wife Sheila and I had evening of doing something we thought we would dislike. A friend invited us to join them for karaoke, something we've always insisted we don't enjoy and aren't good at. But in light of the journey God's had me on - of relinquishing my fear of imperfection and others' opinions - I sensed Him nudging us to say yes this time.

And you know what? We had fun. I sang several tunes and we laughed with our friends and new acquaintances. There was such a lightness and joy in not taking ourselves too seriously, in fully entering into the moment without self-consciousness. I could feel God's joy with us, His delight in us letting down our guard and simply being with people.

I'm convinced this is the kind of life we're made for - one of open-handed adventure, of receiving each day as the gift it is and freely sharing the abundance we've been given. It's a life that flows from being deeply rooted in our identity as God's beloved children, secure enough in His acceptance to spend ourselves freely.

When we live from this place, we become conduits of the Lord's lavish generosity. We find ourselves doing the unexpected, with opportunities being placed in front of us. We experience the thrill of being the Father's hands and feet, of joining Him in His redemptive work all around us.

Bold Love in a Broken World

This is the Kingdom of God that Jesus invites us to seek first - one where power is perfected in weakness, where the last are first and the least are cherished. One where success is measured not by avoiding bad things, but by daily reliance on God for direction. Radical hospitality trumps tribal hostility, and enemies are loved into friendship.

From the very beginning of His ministry, Jesus made it clear that His way was not about maintaining the status quo or propping up the privileged. In His hometown synagogue, He declared that the Spirit had anointed Him to bring good news to the poor, freedom for prisoners, sight for the blind, and liberation for the oppressed (Luke 4:18-19).

At first, the people were thrilled by this vision of the Kingdom - until Jesus started pressing on their self-focused perspective. He pointed out how in the days of Elijah and Elisha, God often poured out miracles and favor on outsiders - Gentiles, widows, lepers. The very ones they deemed unfit and unredeemable.

In other words, the heart of the Father was not to make His chosen people comfortable, but to include and restore all people through His love. And this would require a total overhaul of their own prejudices, entitlements, and business-as-usual religiosity. It would mean laying down their belief that they were better than the outsider. So Jesus offended them when he told them they were missing the boat.

Suddenly, the crowd's enthusiasm turned into nger. They rushed to throw Jesus off a cliff for daring to suggest God's Kingdom was not a reward to them for being such “good” people. But "passing through the midst of them, he went on his way" (Luke 4:30) - foreshadowing the suffering He would soon embrace for the sake of the world.

This is the costly, countercultural way of Jesus to which we are called. It's a way of changing course, of pouring ourselves out on behalf of God’s clear calling. Of letting go of fears an struggles to amplify the voice of Jesus. It’s locking arms with the Trinity and living in community with Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

It's a way that will put us at odds with the systems of our world and the religious spirits of our day. Like Jesus, we will face misunderstanding, criticism, even flat-out hostility at times for our uncomfortable decisions and merciful posture. It's in our very weakness that Christ's power is made perfect (2 Corinthians 12:9).

The Upside-Down Logic of the Kingdom

You see, in the Kingdom of God, the way up is down. The path to greatness is paved with humility, not hubris. True strength is found in surrender, not self-determination. And the only real security comes from abandoning ourselves completely to the care of our Father.

This is the paradox Paul speaks of when he says, "For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength" (1 Corinthians 1:25). When we build our lives on the "foolishness" of a crucified Savior - on the scandal of grace and the offense of self-giving love - we tap into an unshakeable power the world cannot comprehend.

It's the power of Christ's resurrection life, triumphing over sin and death and making all things new. The power of the Spirit, working in and through our frailty to accomplish infinitely more than we could ask or imagine. The power of a coming Kingdom that cannot be stopped, a love that cannot be overcome, a hope that does not disappoint.

There is beauty and joy available to us when we embrace Jesus! When we trade our striving for surrender, our grasping for generosity, our self-preservation for self-giving love. It's here - on the ground of abandoning ourselves to Him - where we find the peace that surpasses understanding. The joy that remains in pain. The courage to spend and be spent for His glory.

Living as True Sons and Daughters

I believe the Spirit is beckoning us towards this vision of the Christian life: not one of dutiful rule-keeping and anxious performance but one of resting in our belovedness and joining our Father's redemptive mission. It’s not about hoarding and hiding behind polished veneers but one of walking in the light, bold in our vulnerability and generosity.

It's a life wholly oriented around Jesus - around knowing Him intimately, reflecting Him authentically, and making Him known boldly in a world aching for hope. It's about learning to live as true sons and daughters, secure enough in the Father's affection to take great risks and give ourselves away extravagantly.

As we keep fixing our eyes on Him and surrendering to His upside-down ways, we will be transformed more and more into His likeness (2 Corinthians 3:18). No longer will we be slaves to others' opinions or the enemy's accusations. No longer will we be ensnared by greed or fear. We will experience the glorious freedom Christ died to give us.

So may we be a people who dare to believe the gospel is actually good news - for us and for all people. May we have the courage to bring our real, messy selves out of hiding and watch God redeem our weaknesses for His glory. May we take the "foolish" risk of living open-handed and openhearted in a world of fists and cynicism.

And may we never stop marveling at the miracle of being chosen and cherished by the King of all Kings. For this, friends, is what we were made for - to be recipients and reflectors of divine affection. To live as broken-yet-beloved children of God, pouring ourselves out for the fame of His name and the flourishing of His creation.

We can give ourselves fully to this sacred calling. We can do it together and cheer each other on as we walk together down the path of seeking the Kingdom. We can remind one another that the approval of and fellowship with Jesus far outweighs anything else.

One step at a time, one "yes" at a time, Jesus will lead us deeper into His heart and further into His Kingdom purposes for our lives.