Hidden Generosity.

Matthew 6:3–4
“But when you give to those in need, don’t let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your generosity remains hidden. Your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.”
This morning, I’m sitting with the contrast between two ways of giving. The world’s rhythm is loud—generosity becomes performance, inflated and broadcast. A hundred-dollar gift becomes a spectacle, its value measured by how many notice. But the kingdom invites a different posture. A hundred-dollar gift, whispered into the quiet, becomes a dime in rumor. The true weight of the offering is hidden, known only to the Father.
I’m reminded that hiddenness isn’t instinctive. My body, my habits, my culture—they all lean toward recognition. Even in ministry, even in service, there’s a subtle pull to be seen. But the Father calls me into a quieter rhythm. One where obedience is enough. Where the reward isn’t applause, but presence.
I think of those who’ve gone before—saints who served without spotlight. Their lives weren’t small; they were simply unadvertised. Their dignity wasn’t diminished by secrecy. It was protected by it.
Today, I want to live inside that rhythm. To give, serve, and love without needing to be noticed. Not as a performance of humility, but as a practice of trust. The Father sees. That’s enough.