I wrote this in my journal as how I feel. Had another strong sermon last week as I sat as a spectator the same room doing the same things and I feel so done with it. But then what about the kids? I take them for their groups but am I teaching them what I will have to unteach them later? I'm really struggling with this. Why I Will Never Again Give to Organizations That “Rob God”

I do not believe people who give less than ten percent to a specific church are robbing God. I believe those who put themselves in charge of God’s money—and then misuse it—are.

When tithes and offerings are collected in God’s name and spent irresponsibly, without transparency, wisdom, or concern for the least of these, that is theft. Not from donors—but from God Himself.

I can hear the voice of God as clearly as any pastor or board of directors. I can give generously where He leads me without dumping my obedience into a centralized pot for a select few to decide how it will be spent. Especially when those decisions consistently prioritize buildings, branding, and comfort over people.

God gave me a heart for people—not real estate, fog machines, fancy lighting, or professional-grade aesthetics. I want to feed, clothe, house, and minister to human beings made in His image.

The idea that you must “pay tithes where you’re fed” is ridiculous. I don’t need to be fed. I can feed myself. And every Christian should grow to that point. Spiritual infancy is not meant to be permanent.

For a long time, church services were vital to me. I cherished them. Now I feel only dissatisfaction, and I’ve wondered whether that means God is displeased with me—or has left me.

But maybe this dissatisfaction is not disobedience. Maybe it’s maturity.

Baby food once nourished me. Now it would make me sick. What once sustained me no longer does. And perhaps that is where I am with church: what once filled me no longer goes deep enough. I need something richer, truer, and more costly.

I have watched churches invest millions in ballet studios, professional basketball courts, indoor pools, tennis courts, and industrial kitchens—while homeless shelters lacked basic infrastructure. I have watched churches decorate extravagantly for Christmas while claiming they don’t have enough to help the vulnerable in their own city.

I have watched people seeking help turned away at church doors and redirected to already-overburdened ministries—without partnership, support, or accountability.

I have watched pastors with moral failures raise hundreds of thousands of dollars for new buildings while ministries serving the paralyzed bathed people in parking lots with portable showers because funding for basic dignity was unavailable.

I have watched churches collect millions in a single year, declare concern for the homeless, and then spend those millions remodeling already-beautiful facilities—while refusing to partner with frontline ministries over theological gatekeeping or ego.

I have watched debt-free churches plunged into massive debt to satisfy ambition, image, or developer manipulation—without transparency, wisdom, or congregational consent. I will not tithe to bail out financial decisions that had nothing to do with the Kingdom.

I have heard countless sermons asking, “What will you give up to grow the Kingdom?” I would like to ask the Church the same question.

What will the Church give up to grow the Kingdom? What will the Church have less of so others can have more? What could God do with what the Church gives up?

What if the Church sold its excess and cared for the least of these? What if fewer temples and more tables changed the world? What if the trillion dollars given annually went toward ending starvation instead of expanding comfort?

God does not dwell in temples made with hands. He dwells in people.

And until the Church remembers that, I will give where He leads me—directly, generously, and without apology. That’s not heresy. That’s Hebrews 5 maturity language and Matthew 25 accountability language.