I grew up in a third world country. The social divide between classes is discernible and normalized. My middle class family always had enough to get by, but there wasn’t always extra. Because poverty was rampant, I was raised with the mindset to keep the purse strings tight. 

My parents had decent jobs, and my dad worked diligently to save. Eventually we moved to Canada, arriving with nothing but the six boxes containing everything we owned. Money was tight and our savings were getting depleted fast. Our earnings went directly to living expenses and sending financial aid to extended family back home. In those formative years, I was learning that money was an important practical resource – something to hold onto with a firm grip. 

Fast forward a few years and I signed up to attend a Catholic Christmas conference for university students that allowed me to fundraise a portion of the conference expenses. One of my mentors, a young campus missionary, donated more than half of my conference fees. I was shocked! This young lady fundraised her own salary and did not have a hefty savings account. Would giving be financially responsible? 

She reminded me that I mattered to her and that she truly believed in the spiritual benefit of the conference. She gave from what little she had to help foster my spiritual growth. As a missionary, she was no stranger to God’s provision and truly trusted that God would continue to provide for her needs while she focused on the mission that He had for her. 

A few years later I found a job at a Christian call center as a fundraiser for missionaries. I made  cold calls to donors asking for prayer and financial gifts for people who were involved in missions. I was surprised by people’s joyful generosity; it all felt counterintuitive to my ingrained belief that your money is meant for the practical needs of your own family.

It’s not that I wasn’t taught to be generous as a child. Generosity was encouraged, just not prioritized. Giving felt more like a duty, not an opportunity. Witnessing joyful generosity was eye-opening.

One particular missionary that I was raising funds for ended up becoming my husband! His parents were also missionaries who relied on donors to fund their mission. Even though they lived in a more affluent community while attending a private Christian school, their family lived on a humble missionary salary. His parents would recall some holidays where they didn’t have enough to buy presents for the kids. They prayed, and miraculously, cheques would somehow show up with just the right amount to meet the needs that they had – practical or otherwise. 

Even though we both came from middle class families, growing up on opposite sides of the world exposed us to extreme examples of poverty and affluence. It is no surprise that we had different worldviews and notions about money. 

I tended to have more fears about financial security. Meanwhile, the wealthy families around my husband showed him that money wasn’t just a practical resource – you can also enjoy spending  it without a constant fear of it running out. Our tendencies balance each other out, and both of us are learning to recalibrate our attitudes around finances.

Now that we are raising a family of our own, we are continuing to grow in our understanding of our fears and joys around money. As our young children grow up, we are starting to notice how commonly they ask about how cheap or expensive something is, and whether or not our budget can afford it. Left unchecked, we could be inadvertently passing on financial burdens on their young minds. We realize that we have a responsibility to be intentional about our discussions around money because these early years are formative to their worldview about finances. 


A few things that I am learning – and unlearning – these days include:


Money is neither a good thing nor a bad thing. Money isn’t the root of all evil, it is our love of money. Growing up, middle class culture taught me to embrace an “us vs. them” philosophy where I villainized anyone who wasn’t middle class like me – the reckless poor are suffering the consequences of their bad decisions, and the greedy rich care for little else other than themselves. I was creating emotional and moral connections to money, devoid of the actual people or circumstances behind them. 

I grew up inadvertently thinking that spending on basic needs is “right”, and spending money on anything else is “wrong”. But the problem with this kind of thinking is that it ascribes moral labels on the wrong things. I’ve seen greed and recklessness, generosity and kindness from all different kinds of people, regardless of their financial status. I’ve seen both widows with their coins, and the rich with their gold, operating out of their convictions and desire for communal good or personal gain. 

We’re learning that one way to close this perceived economic gap is by focusing on loving “the other” first. So often, we get blinded by seeing what others physically have or don’t have that we miss seeing what they spiritually need. We need to remember to see the bigger picture. Loosening our grasp around our purse strings allows us to see the work of God’s hand in our world.  

By allowing ourselves to see our earthly existence at the macro level, we get a better perspective of how the blessings we have received are from God. We gain a deeper understanding of how the Father provides for our needs and the needs of those around us. Often, God gives us an opportunity to participate in His mission by allowing us to bless people around us – a joyful generosity that brings glory back to Him. 


As Christians, we have a real responsibility to be good stewards of all that we have been given. James 1:17 reminds us that “every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father”. 

Learning about stewardship was the first financial eye-opener for me. I considered financial stability a badge of honor: it meant maturity and good self-control. But relying only on self-efforts distracts us from the true source – Providence Himself. Stewardship takes the focus away from us striving to take control of our entire life, and points us back to a generous and thoughtful Father who provides for both practical and spiritual needs.

The Bible has plenty to say about stewardship and our responsibility to care for the needs of the Church. Growing up as a missionary family, my husband learned from an early age about the importance of tithing and giving our first fruits back to God, a lesson incompatible with my scarcity mindset. But just like the campus missionary who helped me with attending a spiritual conference – an experience that was pivotal in my own conversion and journey back to the Church – being a good steward of our gifts allows us to participate in God’s plan for salvation. 


Our attitude towards money says a lot about the state of our heart and soul, regardless of the actual amount in our bank accounts. Whenever I slip back into my tendency to grasp and hold tightly onto money, I am confronted with the reality that I am operating out of fear. When I ascribe personality traits to people based on their material belongings, I am operating out of insecurity. When I turn to retail therapy to find happiness, only to feel guilty for spending recklessly, I am allowing money to dictate my joy. 

Thankfully, we are surrounded by a wonderful group of faithful friends who keep us grounded and have similar financial values. We are intentional about fostering a spirit of community over competition. We keep each other in check when finances start to dictate our emotional and spiritual health. 

Money is an undeniably important part of our society, but we need to ask: how are we holding onto it, and why do we have that attitude towards it? Are we squandering it to maximize the fruit of our labor, or holding onto it to minimize the fear of running out? Most importantly: is there room for Divine Providence in our worldview of money?

Whenever I lose sight of God’s hand and the responsibility that He has placed on me to steward my gifts well, I recall the words of St. Paul: “I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” (Ephesians 4:12-13).

St. Paul reminds me that the secret to contentment lies in Jesus Himself. That in plenty or want, Jesus will meet my needs.