Lord God,
You are the God of release
the One who loosens chains,
who commands rest for the weary and freedom for the bound.
You taught Israel to cancel debts every seventh year,
to open their hands to the poor,
to remember that they themselves had once been slaves in Egypt.
Your justice is mercy in motion.
Your holiness wears the face of compassion.
You are not a God of endless taking,
but of continual giving.
You teach that freedom is not hoarded,
but shared
that those who have received mercy
must become instruments of mercy themselves.
I confess, Lord,
that my hands are too often closed.
I guard my time, my comfort, my resources,
as though they were mine by right.
I forget that all I have is gift,
that generosity is not charity it is worship.
Forgive me for seeing poverty as a problem to fix
rather than a call to love.
Teach me to see every need as an opportunity
to reveal Your heart.
You said, “There will never cease to be poor in the land;
therefore I command you,
open your hand wide to your brother.”
Your command is not naïve it is compassionate.
You do not promise a world without want,
but a people without indifference.
So make my heart soft, Lord.
Let empathy outweigh efficiency.
Let compassion interrupt convenience.
Let love reorder my ledger.
You called for the freeing of slaves every seventh year,
a rhythm of grace built into the fabric of life.
You reminded Israel not to send them away empty-handed,
but to provide from their own abundance.
For they too had known bondage and blessing.
So remind me, Lord,
that generosity without gratitude grows cold,
and gratitude without generosity grows false.
Make me one who gives freely
because I have been freed.
You said, “You shall remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt,
and the Lord your God redeemed you.”
Memory is the soil of mercy.
So let me never forget the pit from which You lifted me.
When pride whispers that I earned my place,
remind me of the grace that purchased it.
When fear tells me there won’t be enough,
remind me of the God who multiplies loaves and fishes.
You promised blessing to those who give freely,
who lend without a grudging heart.
So free me from the fear of lack, Lord.
Break the power of scarcity that chains the soul.
Let me give with joy,
for I know You are no man’s debtor.
You supply seed to the sower
and bread for food;
so make me both faithful and fruitful.
You are the God who frees and provides
who commands generosity not as duty,
but as delight.
Let my life become a jubilee in miniature,
a rhythm of release and restoration.
Teach me that every open hand
is an echo of the cross
where Christ opened His hands
to pay my unpayable debt.
So I give, Lord,
because You gave first.
I stand free with others,
because You freed all of us. And I trust,
because You are faithful.
In the name of Jesus,
our Redeemer and Restorer,
Amen.