And Zacchaeus stood, and said unto the Lord; Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor; and if I have taken any thing from any man by false accusation, I restore him fourfold. — Luke 19:8
On a few occasions in my life, I have witnessed generosity so unexpected it stopped me completely. I remember one night working on the ambulance when a coworker of mine noticed a homeless man nearby. Without saying much about it, he went and bought the man a meal. What made it stop me was not the act itself; it was who was doing it. This was the same coworker who had shared with me on more than one occasion that he struggled to cover his own family’s expenses. He was not giving from abundance. He was giving from the same place the widow gave from.
He walked up to the man and handed him the food. The man had not asked for it. He did not know it was coming. He was caught completely off guard. And my coworker simply wanted to be a blessing to that individual.
Nobody told him to do it. There was no sermon that morning, no appeal, no challenge to give. Something in him just moved toward someone in need and opened his hand.
That is exactly what happened to Zacchaeus. Nobody told him to give half his goods to the poor. Jesus did not preach a message on generosity at the dinner table or issue a financial challenge before the meal was served. He simply came to Zacchaeus’s house. He sat with him. He was present with him. And Zacchaeus stood up and gave before anyone asked him to. That is what a genuine encounter with Jesus does to a closed hand.
Jesus drew His disciples’ attention to the widow in Mark 12 for the same reason. She put two mites into the treasury, the smallest coins in circulation, worth almost nothing by any financial measure. The wealthy donors around her were giving larger amounts. But Jesus said she had given more than all of them combined. Not because the number was bigger. Because the proportion was total. She gave out of her poverty. Everything she had.
Two people. Two entirely different financial situations. The same open hand. The same evidence of something that had happened on the inside before it ever showed up on the outside.
Generosity is not a discipline we add to our lives because we are trying harder to be good. It is evidence. It is what leaks out of a life that has genuinely received from the One who gave everything, who laid down heaven, took on flesh, and poured out His life without calculating what it would cost Him.
The person who has spent real time with that Jesus finds that their grip on their own resources begins to loosen. Not because they are performing generosity for an audience. Because something in them has changed. The closed hand that was protecting what it had begins to open, not toward the person who asks for it but toward the person who needs it, the way my coworker moved toward a man he did not know on a night when he had every reason to keep what he had.
The homeless man did not ask. My coworker did not calculate. He just gave. That is the evidence of a life that has been with Jesus.
What would your hand look like if someone examined it for evidence today: open or closed? Generosity is not something you add to a life with Jesus. It is what happens to you when you have genuinely been with Him.
Someone Else May Need This Today
If this devotional encouraged you, consider sharing it with someone who may need the same reminder today. Sometimes the simplest way to encourage someone is to put the right words in front of them at the right moment.
You never know how God might use one small act of sharing to meet someone exactly where they are.
Share this devotional with someone who could use the encouragement today.
