But God Changed It | Sunday, November 1, 2026

I heard somebody say something that resonated with me.

They said what you provide for your household is your bread, and what you give to the church is your seed.

This reminded me of the whole tithing discussion that has been all over TikTok and other social media.

And I have to ask:

How can you sow your seed when you have no bread at home?

How can you give your last $100 to the church when your refrigerator is empty?

How can you faithfully give 10% of your paycheck every Sunday but have nothing saved for an emergency?

And why have we been taught to feel guilty about withholding money from a church, but not about withholding financial security from ourselves?

I’m asking because somewhere along the way, I think we confused giving with sacrificing ourselves.

And I don’t believe those are the same thing.

Let’s look at what Jesus said.

In Mark 7:9–13, Jesus confronts a religious practice involving something called Corban, a gift or resources dedicated to God.

In the situation Jesus describes, declaring resources dedicated to God could be used to avoid providing support to one’s parents.

Jesus challenges that tradition, saying:

“Making the word of God of none effect through your tradition, which ye have delivered...” — Mark 7:13 (KJV)

So if Jesus challenged people who used religious obligations to neglect their parents, shouldn’t we at least question religious teachings that encourage people to neglect their own households?

I believe you should tithe 10% to yourself, too.

Now, let me be clear. This is my personal approach to financial responsibility, not something the Bible commands.

I believe that when your basic needs are covered and you can afford it, you should consider setting aside 10% of your income for your own financial well-being.

• Some for savings.

• Some for paying down debt.

• Some for investing in your education, skills, or personal growth.

Because your future deserves consideration, too.

And if you can’t afford 10%, that doesn’t mean you’ve failed. Taking care of your basic needs is already part of taking care of yourself.

And what about giving to others?

Please don’t misunderstand me.

I believe in generosity. I believe in helping our neighbors. I believe in feeding hungry people and supporting organizations that actually serve their communities.

But I also believe generosity should be practiced with wisdom.

If you have the resources to give, give.

If you have extra food and someone is hungry, share it.

If your church is doing meaningful work and you can support it, wonderful.

But if your household is struggling to survive, why should you feel ashamed for taking care of home first?

You cannot keep giving away the bread your family needs and call that financial faithfulness.

Here’s what I want us to talk about.

I am not telling anyone to stop tithing.

I’m asking us to examine what we’ve been taught about it.

Because somewhere in this conversation, we need to make room for the idea that providing for ourselves and our families is not selfish.

It’s accountability.

And maybe before we put that white envelope in the collection plate, we should make sure we have what we need at home.

So here’s my question: Have you ever felt pressured to give money to a church when you knew you needed that money at home? And were you made to feel guilty for choosing your household instead?

Well, I opened social media and discovered that apparently we’re having a conversation about a pastor with two wives.

Two.

Not an ex-wife and a current wife.

Two wives at the same time.

And before anybody starts typing, yes, I know there were men in the Bible who had multiple wives.

That’s actually what makes this conversation interesting.

Pastor Israel Ford of LifeWorks Church in Ohio publicly introduced his second wife, Shakayla, to his congregation on Sunday, October 25. His first wife, Lydia, helped make the announcement. Both women have publicly supported the arrangement.

The pastor says the teaching that a man should have only one wife is unbiblical. He also says he won’t choose pleasing people over what God has revealed to him.

And that’s where my eyebrows went up.

Not because I know what happens behind their closed doors. I don’t.

Not because I’m interested in telling three adults how they must live.

But because “God revealed it to me” is a powerful statement, especially when you’re standing in front of people who look to you for spiritual guidance.

Let’s open the Bible.

Abraham, Jacob, David, and Solomon are all associated with plural relationships in the Hebrew scriptures.

So yes, the practice existed.

Exodus 21:10 even addresses a man taking another wife and requires that the first woman’s food, clothing, and marital rights not be diminished.

But there’s something we have to remember.

A biblical account of something happening is not automatically a biblical instruction to do it.

The Bible also records jealousy, favoritism, conflict, and suffering within plural households.

Then we get to the Gospels.

Jesus is addressing divorce in that conversation, not answering a direct question about polygamy. But his words have become central to Christian teachings about marriage.

And 1 Timothy 3:2 says an overseer should be “the husband of one wife.”

That letter is traditionally attributed to Paul, although many biblical scholars dispute its authorship. Christians also disagree about precisely how that phrase applies.

So no, this isn’t a question we should settle by grabbing one verse from Facebook.

But I have another question.

What happens when a pastor says God personally revealed something that challenges what his congregation has been taught?

Are the members allowed to question it?

Can they examine the scriptures and reach a different conclusion?

Can they disagree without being accused of disagreeing with God?

Because that is what concerns me about religious authority.

Not every claim made in God’s name should be accepted simply because the person making it has a microphone and a title.

And that applies whether we’re talking about marriage, money, tithing, or anything else.

I’m not here to decide whether these three people love each other. They say they support their arrangement, and I have no reason to invent a different story about their private feelings.

But I do believe religious leaders should be willing to have their interpretations examined.

If a teaching is grounded in scripture, shouldn’t it withstand honest questions?

I believe God gave us the ability to think, question, and examine what we’re told.

And I don’t believe asking questions is disrespectful.

So here’s what I want to ask you: When a pastor says, “God revealed this to me,” is that enough for you? Or do you need to examine the scripture and decide what you believe for yourself?

Sunday With Jesus | Matthew 25:35

Are You Hungry?

Sunday With Jesus | Matthew 25:35

The picture I used in today’s article is my actual childhood home in Newark, NJ.

There were always six kids and two adults in the house: my dad and one of his many girlfriends.

Our house was as chaotic as a rabbit in a cage with fresh hay. But somehow, growing up, our house was the neighborhood hangout.

While the house was so uncertain for everyone who lived there, it became a safe refuge for our friends.

The same house where we experienced so much uncertainty was a refuge for them.

A bit strange and a bit unorthodox for a man who could be a raving lunatic at times.

My father, who most days was short on love, didn’t have much money. But what he did have was food.

He was a cook back in his heyday who learned how to cook before he learned how to read.

He also never believed that a child should go hungry.

If you found yourself hungry, you could come over to our house and eat.

No hesitation. No questions asked.

That was one thing he never seemed to mind sharing.

Growing up, living in a multiverse of realities that could change by the minute, the one thing that never changed was that he would feed you if you were hungry.

This made me think about Jesus’ teachings, and I have to give him credit for this one.

In Matthew’s account, Jesus describes how people respond to those in need. Feeding someone isn’t presented as a small, insignificant gesture. It’s central to the message.

And that makes me think about my father.

He didn’t need a lot of money to feed somebody.

He didn’t ask what church they attended.

He didn’t need to know whether they deserved a meal.

If they were hungry, he fed them.

That doesn’t erase the difficult things about my childhood or make everything that happened in our home acceptable.

But I can recognize that generosity was something my father practiced.

Here’s what I keep coming back to.

Jesus didn’t tell the hungry people in Matthew 25 to prove their worthiness before receiving food.

The emphasis was on whether someone responded to their need.

My father had his shortcomings. Our household had its difficulties.

But if somebody was hungry, he shared what he had.

And sometimes I wonder whether we’ve made generosity more complicated than it needs to be.

Maybe we don’t need to start with how much money we can give to an institution.

Maybe we can start by asking whether someone around us has enough to eat.

What if we took better care of ourselves financially and used whatever we could spare to make sure somebody else didn’t go hungry?

Let’s talk.

Did you grow up in a home where people could always come over and get something to eat?

There’s something I’ve been witnessing in real time, when it comes to parents, separation, and the children caught in between.

Two people can share a home, build a family, and eventually reach a place where they can no longer stand each other.

Sometimes there’s betrayal. Sometimes years of disappointment. Sometimes the relationship simply becomes something neither person recognizes anymore.

But here’s where I think we need to be careful.

The person who hurt you as a partner is not necessarily the same person your child experiences as a parent.

Ezekiel 18:20 (KJV) says:

“The son shall not bear the iniquity of the father, neither shall the father bear the iniquity of the son.”

In its original context, Ezekiel challenges the idea that children should automatically bear responsibility for their parents’ wrongdoing. It isn’t a passage about divorce or custody. But I believe it gives us something important to consider.

Why are we sometimes asking children to carry pain that belongs to adults?

A child should not have to reject one parent to prove loyalty to the other.

And when adults deliberately turn children against a parent to settle personal scores, they risk damaging the very relationships they’re trying to protect.

Now, let’s be clear. Protecting children from abuse, neglect, or unsafe behavior is not the same as using them to punish an ex-partner. Safety matters.

With that said, allowing children to develop their own relationships, memories, and understanding is important.

Your relationship ended. Their relationship with their parent may not have.

Can we separate what someone did to us from who they are to our children, while still holding them accountable for their actions?

What do you think?

But God Changed It 💜

A Sunday Reflection | But God Changed It

There is nothing wrong with you or me. I want you to read that again.

There is nothing wrong with either of us!!!!!

Not because we’ve made all the right decisions. Not because we’ve always handled things perfectly. Not because we’ve figured out this thing called life. But because being human was never meant you had to be perfect.

While I undestand, humans are not meant to be perfect, I somewhere along the way forgot and I started believing that I needed to be perfect and fix my external life, before I could love myself.

• I needed to lose the weight.

• Make more money.

• Make my marriage pefect.

• Be a better mother.

• Be more patient.

• Be more productive.

• Stop crying.

• Stop worrying.

• Stop feeling so much.

There was always something.

Always another version of myself that I needed to fix before I could finally look in the mirror and say, I’m enough.

But what if I’ve been asking the wrong question? What if the question isn’t What’s wrong with me? What if it’s Why have I spent so much of my life believing something must be?

The Part About Love We Often Overlook

In Mark 12:31, Jesus is recorded saying:

“Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.” — KJV

We’ve heard that verse countless times. Love your neighbor.

Be kind. Give. Help. Forgive. Show compassion.

And those are beautiful things.

But recently, I’ve been thinking about the last two words.

As thyself.

What I believe is that, Jesus was quoting a commandment found in Leviticus 19:18. In its original context, the command emphasizes how people should treat others within their community. It isn’t a modern lesson about self-care.

Still, those two words invite me to ask a personal question.

What does the way I treat myself say about the way I understand love?

I often find myself

• being patient with a friend who’s struggling, yet criticize myself for having a difficult day.

• telling another woman she deserves rest, yet feel guilty when I sit down.

• encouraging everybody else to follow their dreams while quietly convincing myself that it’s too late to follow mine.

• forgiving people for being human while continuing to punish myself for mistakes I made ten years ago.

Why?

Why does compassion come so easily when I’m giving it away, but. become so complicated when I’m the one who needs it?

Serving Yourself Is Not Abandoning Others

For a long time, I think I have confused being a good person with being an endlessly available person.

I would answer every phone call.

Solve problems that weren’t mines.

Stretched myself financially, emotionally, and physically because somebody needed me.

And sometimes I did it because I loved them.

But sometimes I did it because saying no made me feel guilty.

But I am learning now that, there’s a difference.

Self-love doesn’t mean becoming indifferent to other people’s needs.

It means recognizing that your needs belong in the conversation, too.

• Sometimes serving myself looks like going to bed instead of answering one more call.

• Sometimes it means saving the money I worked hard for instead of rescuing someone from a situation I didn’t create.

• Sometimes it’s making the doctor’s appointment I’ve been postponing.

• Sometimes it’s returning to school at 53, starting a business, taking a class, or pursuing something you’ve wanted for years, like this substack.

• And sometimes it’s simply allowing myself to enjoy a quiet Sunday without explaining why I am not doing anything productive.

I am allowed to have a life that isn’t organized entirely around what other people need from me, and you are too.

You Are Not a Project That Needs Constant Repair

I believe in personal growth.

I believe we should examine our actions, acknowledge when we’ve hurt someone, apologize when necessary, and work to become more compassionate human beings.

But growth and self-rejection are not the same thing.

You can recognize something you want to change without deciding there is something fundamentally wrong with you.

You can regret a decision without defining your entire life by it.

You can be healing and still be worthy of love.

You can be uncertain about your future and still appreciate who you are today.

And you can change your mind about what you believe, what you want, and how you choose to live.

That doesn’t make you a failure.

It makes you a person who is still learning.

My personal understanding of God is that the divine is present throughout existence, including within each of us.

And if I truly believe that, then I have to consider what it means when I repeatedly treat myself as though I am less deserving of tenderness than everybody else.

I don’t believe I honor the divine presence in others by neglecting the life within me.

I am part of this existence, too.

My life matters, too.

And so does yours.

A Different Kind of Sunday

So this Sunday, I’m not asking you to become a better version of yourself.

I’m asking you to spend a little time getting to know the woman you already are.

The one who has survived things she never imagined facing.

The one who has made mistakes, learned lessons, changed her mind, started over, and found ways to keep going.

Not everything about her needs to be corrected.

Some parts of her simply need to be understood.

Some parts need rest.

Some parts need forgiveness.

And some parts have been waiting a very long time for permission to experience joy.

Maybe today, you can give yourself that permission.

Make yourself breakfast.

Take the walk.

Buy the flowers.

Sit in the sunshine.

Say no without writing a three-paragraph explanation.

Laugh without feeling guilty that there’s still work to do.

And when that familiar voice begins telling you everything you should be doing, everything you haven’t accomplished, and everything you still need to fix, remind yourself:

There is nothing wrong with being a human being who is still becoming.

You are allowed to grow without hating the person you are growing from.

You are allowed to serve others without sacrificing yourself.

And you are allowed to love yourself right now, not just after you’ve become someone else.

Because you were never supposed to be the one person your compassion forgot.

A question for you this Sunday:

What is one loving thing you can do for yourself this week, without guilt and without asking anyone’s permission?

I’d love to hear your answer.

But God Changed It.

Scripture, examined thoughtfully. Jesus, understood through his actions. God, recognized throughout existence. Compassion, put into practice

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Ecclesiastes 9:11 (KJV)“...but time and chance happeneth to them all.” Bible.com

I have always hated the phrase: everything happens for a reason.

I understand when people say this, that they are trying to comforts us. But it can also leave suffering people feeling responsible for what happened to them!

Ecclesiastes is surprisingly candid.

It tells us that the fastest person doesn’t always win the race. The strongest doesn’t always win the battle. And being wise doesn’t guarantee that life will reward you.

Sometimes things happen because of circumstances beyond our control.

Sometimes people suffer because of choices someone else made.

And sometimes terrible things happen to people who have done absolutely nothing to deserve them.

Yet we have this habit of trying to explain everything.

Someone becomes seriously ill, and we wonder what they did wrong.

Someone loses everything, and we start looking for the lesson they were supposed to learn.

Someone experiences tragedy, and before they’ve even had a chance to process what happened, someone tells them it was God’s plan.

But what if it wasn’t?

What if we have become so uncomfortable with the idea that life is unpredictable that we would rather assign suffering a divine purpose than admit we don’t have an explanation?

I struggle with the idea that a loving God would deliberately arrange every painful experience just to teach someone a lesson.

I know not everyone shares that understanding of God. But it’s where my own faith and reflection have led me.

Ecclesiastes doesn’t answer every question about suffering or divine involvement. It does, however, acknowledge something we often resist: life does not always unfold according to merit, effort, or deserving.

Being a good person doesn’t make you immune to tragedy.

And experiencing tragedy doesn’t mean you weren’t good enough.

• Maybe the lesson isn’t hidden inside the tragedy. Maybe the lesson is in how we respond to the person experiencing it.

And perhaps that’s one way we become the change we’ve been praying for.

Not by pretending every terrible thing was meant to happen.

But by refusing to let suffering be met with indifference.

But God Changed It. 💜

Scripture, examined thoughtfully. Jesus, understood through his actions. God, recognized throughout existence. Compassion, put into practice.

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Not because I was angry with Him. Not because I wanted to rebel against religion. I simply reached a place where I no longer believed He was real.

I know that’s not something people always feel comfortable admitting, especially when faith has been such a significant part of our communities and families.

But it’s the truth.

I had questions. I had doubts. And somewhere along the way, those doubts became disbelief.

I wasn’t looking for a reason to believe again.

And I certainly wasn’t expecting that reason to come through one of the most traumatic experiences my brother would ever face.

But that’s exactly where my story began to change.

Something happened to my brother that should never have happened.

What followed was a series of circumstances and outcomes that, from everything I understood about the situation, seemed incredibly unlikely.

Things began working in his favor in ways I couldn’t explain. And I remember having to confront a question I hadn’t seriously considered in a long time.

What if God really is there?

I didn’t suddenly have answers to every question I’d ever asked about faith.

But I could no longer ignore what I was witnessing.

For the first time in a long time, I found myself reconsidering something I had been certain about.

Maybe I had been wrong. Maybe there was more happening than I could see or understand.

Maybe God had never stopped being present, even during the years when I stopped believing in Him.

I don’t share this story because I think everyone who doubts God needs to experience something extraordinary before they can believe.

And I don’t believe that every painful experience has a happy ending simply because someone prays.

I share it because this is what happened to me.

I had stopped believing.

Then I watched my brother go through something devastating, and I witnessed outcomes I never expected.

And somewhere in the middle of it all, my faith began to return.

I didn’t go looking for God. But what I experienced made me believe in Him again.

And that is the reason why I created But God Changed It.

Because sometimes the thing that changes isn’t just our circumstances.

Sometimes it’s what we believe is possible.

• We pray for a better life

• We pray for opportunities

• We ask God to open doors

But we often forget to do the things to help us move the prayer forward

• we don’t take the steps to change it.

• we don’t prepare ourselves when they come.

• we sometimes are unwilling to get up and walk toward the change

And then we wonder why nothing is changing.

Here’s the thing.

Faith was never meant to be an excuse for inaction.

James 2:17 reminds us that faith without works is dead.

That doesn’t mean we can work our way into God’s favor. It means genuine faith should show up in how we live and what we do.

• Pray for the opportunity. Then prepare for it.

• Pray for healing. Then be willing to do the difficult work of healing.

• Pray for change. Then examine the things within our power to change.

And understand that doing the work doesn’t guarantee everything will happen the way you planned. But it does guarantee that if you move the needle, the needle will move. 💜. That’s where faith comes in.

You do what you can. You trust God with what you cannot control.

Because sometimes the answer to your prayer begins with the step you’ve been afraid to take.

But God Changed It. 💜

“Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.”

Sometimes the hardest part of faith is not knowing what comes next.

You pray. You hope. You ask God for direction. And sometimes, all you hear is silence.

But silence doesn’t mean you’ve been abandoned.

Maybe today you’re facing a decision you don’t know how to make. Maybe you’re waiting for something to change. Or maybe you’re simply tired of carrying the weight of everything that’s happening around you.

Whatever season you’re in, remember this: You don’t have to understand every part of your journey to keep trusting God.

Faith doesn’t require you to have all the answers.

Sometimes faith is waking up, putting your feet on the floor, and saying, “Lord, I don’t know what today will bring, but I’m trusting You to walk with me.”

And that’s enough for today.

Today’s Prayer

Heavenly Father, You know the things weighing on my heart. You know the questions I haven’t found answers to and the situations I cannot control. Help me release my fears, trust Your wisdom, and find peace in Your presence. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Today’s Reminder

You may not know what comes next. But you don’t have to walk through it alone.

But God Changed It ❤️

Welcome to But God Changed It 💜

I have a confession that I need to tell you.

Okay, here I go.....

A couple of years ago, I stopped being a believer.

I was mad. I was angry. And I stopped believing.

What led up to this?

I prayed and prayed and prayed.

I believed and believed and believed.

And nothing happened.

I thought, Well, this religion thing surely isn’t for me, because it doesn’t work.

But then something happened that made me believe again and see religion in a way I hadn’t before.

My brother went through a very, very rough patch.

And through that difficult time, something began changing in me.

I became a caterpillar.

And But God Changed It has become my metamorphosis into a beautiful butterfly.

Through my daily notes and weekly articles, I examine what I once believed to be true and dig deeper into what I understand now, for myself.

And while it’s not all pretty and packaged with a bow, it’s my story.

My transformation.

I’m still learning. Still questioning. Still changing.

So welcome to this chaotic, beautiful cocoon I’m in.

Hopefully, you’ll stay long enough to see me emerge as a beautiful butterfly.

And who knows? Maybe we’ll discover a few things together along the way.

Because maybe you’ve been where I’ve been.

Maybe you’ve prayed until you were exhausted and wondered why nothing changed.

Maybe you’ve questioned something you were taught about God but didn’t feel comfortable saying it out loud.

Or maybe you still believe, but you’re starting to realize that believing in God and agreeing with everything people say about God aren’t necessarily the same thing.

That’s what we’re going to talk about here.

Through personal stories, scripture, honest questions, and sometimes uncomfortable conversations, we’ll examine what we’ve been taught and what Jesus actually taught.

I’m not here to tell you what to believe. I’m still figuring some things out myself.

And you don’t have to agree with me to belong here.

I want to hear your stories, your questions, and your perspectives, too.

Because maybe while I’m going through my metamorphosis, you’re going through one of your own.

And wouldn’t it be something if we helped each other grow?

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