Day 158

1 Chronicles 27–29 | 1 Corinthians 14:26–40

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David had reached the end of his reign.

The ark was secure. The people were at peace. The plans for the temple were in hand.

And the giving? It was extravagant.

Gold. Silver. Bronze. Iron. Onyx. Marble.

Tribes. Leaders. Families. All giving willingly. Lavishly. Joyfully.

But when David stands before the people to pray, he doesn’t point to their generosity.

He points to God’s.

“But who am I, and what is my people, that we should be able thus to offer willingly?

For all things come from You, and of Your own have we given You.” (1 Chronicles 29:14)

That’s the climax of the chapter.

Not the offerings.

Not the architecture.

Not the legacy.

Worship.

Worship that starts with wonder.

Worship that forgets self.

Worship that returns to the Giver everything He first gave.

A Job, a Body, and a Bank Account

That verse has followed me like a refrain this year.

When my job was eliminated, I didn’t feel noble. I felt unsteady.

For years, I poured myself into that work. Built teams. Cast vision. Shaped language.

And then—it was gone.

But David’s prayer reframes even that.

The platform wasn’t mine.

The paycheck wasn’t mine.

The leadership wasn’t mine.

They were gifts.

Given by God.

And now returned to Him.

Same with my hand.

For most of my life, I never thought twice about how many fingers I had.

I used them. Built things. Typed fast. Held tight.

And then, in one moment, that changed.

And I realized—these hands were never mine to begin with.

Even what remains now—scarred, slower, clumsier—is still a gift.

And every time I tie a shoe, or crack an egg, or lift a mug of coffee without dropping it—I’m giving back what was never mine.

We’re Not Self-Made. We’re God-Given.

The cultural lie is that we earn.

We climb.

We own.

But David tells the truth:

We receive.

Even the willingness to give is grace.

Even the strength to stand is mercy.

“I know, my God, that You test the heart and have pleasure in uprightness.

In the uprightness of my heart I have freely offered all these things…” (1 Chronicles 29:17)

You don’t get to take credit for generosity when the currency came from heaven.

You don’t boast in what you built when the blueprint was borrowed.

You don’t exalt yourself for giving when what you gave came from God.

The Point of Every Spiritual Gift

That’s what Paul underscores too:

“Let all things be done for building up.” (1 Corinthians 14:26)

Whether you’re teaching or praying or prophesying—it’s not about being seen.

It’s about building.

Not for personal catharsis.

Not for spiritual theatrics.

But for the edification of the Church.

Because even your gift—whatever it is—was never truly yours.

You’re not the owner. You’re the steward.

You don’t generate. You distribute.

You don’t impress. You serve.

A House of Borrowed Things

When Solomon finally built the temple, it would stand in grandeur.

But its stones were laid with borrowed hands.

Its gold was poured from borrowed wealth.

Its design came from a borrowed mind.

And its worship would rise from borrowed breath.

So does yours.

So does mine.

We are not self-made.

We are not self-sustained.

We are not self-worthy.

We are a house of borrowed things.

Built by grace.

Held by mercy.

Filled with praise.

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Lord, You are the Giver of every good thing. Every gift I carry is borrowed. Every breath I breathe is Yours. Forgive me when I grip too tightly what was never mine to keep. Teach me to live open-handed—to build what You design, to steward what You entrust, to return what You first gave. Make me a house of borrowed things—strong in grace, humble in worship, and holy unto You. For from You and through You and to You are all things. To You be the glory forever. Amen.