Where Stewardship Really Starts

Most of us hear the word stewardship and immediately think: effort. Try harder. Do better. Get more disciplined. Be more consistent. Give more. Serve more. Organize your life.

And to be honest, that instinct fits our world. We live in a culture that trains us to believe the good life is built by hustle, achievement, and control. So when stewardship comes up—even in church—it’s natural to assume the conversation is going to start with what we should do.

But Jesus starts somewhere else.

He starts with being—specifically, being with God through the finished work of Christ. Because before you can faithfully steward anything, you need to receive the most foundational gift of the Christian life:

In Christ, you have access to God’s presence and God’s promises.

That access is not something you earn. It’s something you’re given.

Stewardship begins with the gospel gift: access to God’s presence and promises in Christ, which we learn to steward by abiding rather than striving.

Stewardship begins where striving ends: in the presence of God. 

Scripture has a way of waking us up. Ephesians 5:13–14 says, “Awake, O sleeper… and Christ will shine on you.” That’s not just a dramatic line—it’s a loving interruption.

Because so many of us are half-asleep to reality.

Here is one of the most clarifying claims of the Bible: nothing outside of the Triune God can truly satisfy your soul. (Triune means God is one God in three Persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.)

We keep asking created things to do what only the Creator can do.

Money can’t carry that weight.
Fame can’t carry that weight.
Achievement can’t carry that weight.
Approval can’t carry that weight.
Even good things—like family, marriage, work, or ministry—can’t carry the weight of being our deepest source of life.

And when we try anyway, something shows up: restlessness. Anxiety. The constant urge to distract ourselves. The desire to numb. The need to scroll, to consume, to stay busy, to stay loud—because silence feels like it exposes us.

But that restlessness isn’t a glitch in your soul. In many ways, it’s a signal. A reminder that you were made for Someone greater than this world can offer.

Augustine said it well: our hearts are restless until they find their rest in God. Not because we’re broken only (though we are), but because we were designed for communion with Him.

The Bible doesn’t just diagnose what’s wrong—it tells us where life is found.

Psalm 16:11 says that in God’s presence there is fullness of joy. Not partial joy. Not fragile joy. Fullness.

And 2 Corinthians 1:19–20 says that in Jesus, all the promises of God are “Yes.” Not “maybe.” Not “if you perform.” Not “on your best week.” Yes—because Christ has secured them.

That means the deepest joy and the surest hope do not float out in the vague air of self-improvement. They have an address:

• Joy is found in God’s presence.
• Promises are fulfilled in Jesus Christ.

Psalm 87:7 captures it with a single image: “All my springs are in you.” God is not one stream among many. He’s the spring beneath everything.

If that’s true—if that’s reality—then stewardship has to start here. Because everything else is downstream.

That’s why John 15:4–11 is so central. Jesus doesn’t begin with a list. He begins with a relationship: “Abide in me, and I in you” (John 15:4).

To abide means to remain, to stay, to make your home. Jesus is not handing you a spiritual trick. He is offering you Himself.

And He uses the simplest metaphor: vine and branches.

Branches don’t manufacture fruit. They don’t grit their teeth. They don’t pressure-produce growth. They stay connected. And because they’re connected to life, life flows.

Jesus says it as plainly as possible: “Apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:5). Not “less than you hoped.” Nothing of lasting spiritual value. Nothing that holds eternal weight.

Then Jesus goes even deeper: “Abide in my love” (John 15:9).

If you want to go the distance as a follower of Jesus—if you want endurance with joy, not merely endurance with exhaustion—this matters: You have to know you are loved by God.

Psalm 90:14 becomes a daily prayer for that: “Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love, that we may rejoice and be glad all our days.”

And Jesus tells us His aim in all this: “That my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full” (John 15:11).

So no—fullness of joy is not finally found in hard work, great systems, or competent leadership. Those can be gifts, but they cannot be your fountain. Fullness of joy is found in abiding in Jesus.

Luke 10:38–42 brings this down to street level.

Martha is doing something good. She’s serving Jesus. She’s being responsible. She’s being productive. In many ways, she looks like the kind of person we’d compliment for “good stewardship.”

But Jesus names what’s happening beneath the activity: she’s anxious and troubled.

Why?

Because her doing has drifted away from her abiding. She is working hard, but not from fullness. She is serving, but her soul isn’t settled at Jesus’ feet.

And that’s the danger for many of us: not only the obvious false fountains, but the respectable ones. The “good gifts” that slowly become the place we look for identity, peace, and worth.

If it isn’t God, it cannot be God. And if it cannot be God, it cannot carry the weight of your soul.

Begin the day with God’s love
Before screens. Before headlines. Before the to-do list. Pray Psalm 90:14 in your own words.

Return again and again
Abiding is not a one-time moment. It’s a practiced return—coming back when the day drains you.

Name your substitute fountains
Ask yourself honestly: Where do I go first for comfort, control, or reassurance? Don’t shame yourself—be honest so you can be free.

Let stewardship become response, not rescue
Stewardship is not how you earn God’s love. It’s how you live because you already have it.

If you’re a Christian, abiding isn’t a bonus. It’s the heartbeat of the life you’ve been given.

And if you’re not a Christian, the invitation is real—but it is not something you can achieve by willpower. The gospel is that Jesus paid the cost you could not pay. Through His death and resurrection, the barrier of sin is removed, and access is opened.

That’s why Scripture can say, with full honesty, “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you will be saved.”

Stewardship begins there: not with you climbing your way to God, but with God coming to you in Christ—and welcoming you home.