Giving Was Never Meant to Feel Heavy

I wrote years ago that giving should be fun. At the time, I don’t think I fully understood why that idea mattered to me — I just knew it did. The older I get, the more convinced I am that generosity was never meant to feel heavy.

My perspective on giving started early. I’ve tithed to my local church since I first had a job at age twelve. Not because anyone forced me to. Not because I was afraid of what would happen if I didn’t. It was modeled for me — by my parents and by both sets of grandparents. None of them had a great deal of wealth, but they were always generous with what they had. Giving was normal. It was simply part of life. Somewhere along the way, it became part of how I understood gratitude.

Over time, I noticed something else: people smile when they give.

I’ve seen it again and again. Whether the gift is large or small, planned or spontaneous, there’s often a smile that comes with it. Sometimes relief. Sometimes quiet joy. Sometimes excitement. People smile when they’re having fun. If giving makes people smile, maybe it really is supposed to be fun.

That’s been true in my own life. When Amy and I give, it’s not about recognition or formulas. It’s about gratitude. We give because we’re able to, because we want to, and because we believe in supporting things that matter. That includes money, but it also includes time.

One of the most meaningful — and honestly, most fun — ways I give is through something I do every Christmas Day. Instead of a quiet holiday at home, I host a dinner. It takes planning, time, and money. It’s work. But it’s also joyful. I wrote about it in a post last December called The Table We Keep, because that’s exactly what it feels like — an open table, shared with others. It’s one of the clearest reminders for me that generosity doesn’t drain joy; it often multiplies it.

The Bible has shaped how I think about giving, even if I don’t always quote chapter and verse. Scripture talks a lot about generosity, but rarely in a transactional way. It focuses more on the heart behind the gift than the size of it. That framing stuck with me. Giving isn’t about proving something. It’s about participating in something.

Over the years—both personally and professionally — I’ve learned that having some personal guidelines around giving helps keep it grounded. Not rigid rules. Just anchors. For me, that’s meant starting with the local church and then supporting other causes that align with my values. Not everything. Not impulsively. Intentionally. Doing a little homework. Asking whether an organization’s mission matches what I care about most.

Another thing I’ve learned is that meaningful generosity takes time. Trust takes time. Sustained giving doesn’t usually happen overnight. It grows through consistency, confidence, and relationship — whether someone is giving ten dollars or ten thousand.

I don’t think it’s my place to tell anyone how much to give. I do think it’s fair to ask whether we have a plan — even a simple one. A plan brings clarity, and clarity often brings freedom.

So here’s the gentle challenge. If you’re already giving, keep going — and pay attention to what it does in you, not just where it goes. If you’re not, start somewhere. Find something you believe in. Learn about it. Support it. Watch what happens.

Giving was never meant to feel heavy. Sometimes, it’s meant to feel like joy.