✨ Relearning God’s Provision: A Homemaker’s Heart Shift

This morning, I watched this video with Phil Robertson — https://youtu.be/VsfigI7v10U?si=B_uvh5hgnZpamqdb. As my husband had recently wanted to watch something in his honor, and this today popped up on my feed. I didn’t know what to expect… However, I walked away with many golden nuggets, and also with something that stirred something deep in my spirit that I want to share.

There was a moment when Phil talked about fishing. Just regular, everyday fishing. But what he said struck me like lightning. He pointed out how the fish were already there. God had already provided the fish — alive, moving, ready to nourish — and all they had to do was go out and retrieve them.

And in that moment, I finally began to understand what Jesus meant when He said:

“Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For after all these things the Gentiles seek. For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things.” — Matthew 6:31–32 (NKJV)

This wasn’t Jesus dismissing our physical needs. It was Him calling us to trust — not in our own ability to earn or secure provision, but in our Father who already knows exactly what we need. We don’t need to live like the world, anxiously chasing and storing and consuming. Our job is not to worry, but to seek first His kingdom (Matthew 6:33), and trust that He will provide.

And I was especially struck by how this truth is echoed in Luke 12:27:

“Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; and yet I say to you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.” — Luke 12:27 (NKJV)

Jesus points to something as simple and lovely as a flower to teach us how trustworthy our God is. The lilies don’t labor or spin their own cloth, and yet God clothes them in beauty beyond the richest king. This isn’t about becoming self-reliant or working harder to “deserve” God’s provision. It’s about resting in the truth that He is the One who gives every good thing.

This conviction didn’t make me feel like I needed to move off-grid, grow all my own food, or sew every piece of clothing — though some people do those things. And it doesn’t mean God expects me to do that now (or ever). But it did make me stop and wonder: Am I truly letting God provide? Or am I trying to meet my needs the world’s way, without asking Him first?

It’s easy to buy the snacks, the prepackaged meals, the treats — and yet, my heart feels tugged to stop and ask: Could I do a little better with what God has already placed in my hands? Could I seek Him before I swipe the card? Could I teach my children to recognize the goodness of a God who still provides food from the ground, milk from the sheep, and eggs from the hen?

Because this isn’t just about what I can do — it’s about what I can hand down. I may not have the skills to grow my own flax and spin wool, but I can teach my boys how to gather eggs, how to tend a garden, how to care for animals, and how to see God as the One who gives every harvest. And if I can’t do those things yet, I can learn alongside them, pointing their hearts to the Lord as we go.

For so long I read those verses and didn’t get it. But now I see it clearly: He already knows. He already provides. God has already given us what we need — in His creation, through His Son, and with His Spirit leading us to receive.

As Phil described walking out and collecting the fish, I felt a fresh understanding bloom: God didn’t drop the fish into a frying pan. But He did make sure they were there. All they had to do was act in faith and obedience.

“He who works his land will have abundant food, but he who chases fantasies lacks sense.” — Proverbs 12:11

We live in a world that’s forgotten how to work the land. Instead, we work screens. We chase comfort. And I don’t say that to be condemning — I say it because I’ve lived it. I am living it.

I don’t have the knowledge or skillset to live off the land, raise livestock, sew my own clothes, or grow enough food for our family of soon-to-be four. And I don’t believe God is asking me to do all of that right now. But He has provided those raw materials — the seeds, the sun, the soil, the trees, the sheep, the tools — and even in our culture, He’s still providing ways for us to steward well, slow down, and honor Him.

“For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities — His eternal power and divine nature — have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse.” — Romans 1:20

Creation itself is a testimony. A sermon. A reason to worship. And it also leaves us accountable. God has made Himself clearly seen, not just so we can admire the beauty of a field of wheat or a newborn lamb — but so we might honor Him as the Giver of all good things.

And yet… here’s where my personal conviction sets in.

I can’t escape the reality that I am so Americanized. So deeply shaped by this modern culture that makes everything convenient, pre-packaged, and disconnected from the Source. And while I’m not condemned for that — because God’s grace covers me — I am convicted.

Because James 4 reminds me:

“But He gives more grace. Therefore it says, ‘God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.’” — James 4:6

In humility, I have to ask:

Where has God tried to provide in a simpler way — and I’ve ignored Him? Where has He nudged me to bake bread, make a meal from scratch, grow a tomato — and I’ve just defaulted to buying another box of something off the shelf? Am I truly trusting God to provide? Or have I befriended the world’s systems of consumption and speed?

My conviction is this: I’ve often failed to let God be my Provider. Not because He hasn’t been willing — but because I’ve been too distracted, too busy, too entangled in a culture that doesn’t know how to receive.

No, God is not asking me to spin my own flax right now. But He is asking me to slow down. To trust Him. To be faithful with what I can do — even if it’s small.

🌱 And here’s what I can do:

I can raise my boys to know that food doesn’t just “come from the store.” I can let them gather eggs, plant seeds, chase chickens, pull weeds, and learn the joy of hard work. I can teach them to recognize God’s hand in the everyday — not just in miracles but in carrots, compost, sunrises, and soil.

Even if I don’t have all the skills to raise livestock or sew linen tunics, I can give my children the opportunity to learn those things. I can give them the tools and the mindset to live in dependence on God, not dependence on a grocery aisle.

This is what I wish someone had taught me when I was little — not just how to live off the land practically, but how to see God’s goodness in all of it. And now, I want to be that example for my kids.

I want them to know that everything they need, everything good, has already been provided. They just have to look up… and start receiving.

I want to grow in this. I want to raise my sons with eyes that see what God has made, not just what’s marketed to them. I want them to know that every bite of food, every warm coat, every breath — is a gift from the Lord.

Lord, help us. All who want to be homemakers who honor You with the way we live, cook, teach, and trust. Thank You for Your mercy when we fall short and for Your grace that empowers us to change, In Jesus name.

🏡 In Addition: When Storehouses Become a Hindrance to Faith

As I’ve reflected on all of this, I also couldn’t help but think of the story Jesus tells in Luke 12:16–21 — the parable of the rich man who stored up so much grain that he tore down his barns to build bigger ones. He thought he was doing something wise. Something secure. Something “responsible.”

“And I will say to my soul, ‘Soul, you have many goods laid up for many years to come; relax, eat, drink, and enjoy yourself!’” — Luke 12:19 (NASB)

But God said to him, “You fool! This very night your soul is demanded of you; and as for all that you have prepared, who will own it now?” (Luke 12:20)

This convicted me in a new way. It made me wonder — how often do we as homemakers or homesteaders feel “wise” for filling our pantry shelves or prepping for what may come… and yet unknowingly begin to trust in our storehouses more than the Lord?

Now don’t get me wrong — there’s nothing wrong with storing up food, making things from scratch, learning skills, or being prepared. In fact, Proverbs speaks to the wisdom of the diligent woman, the ant, and the farmer. But Scripture also warns us that motives matter.

Are we saving in faith, or stockpiling in fear?

Are we stewarding what God gives us, or subtly trying to be our own providers?

Are our full shelves an act of obedience — or are they covering up a heart that’s slow to trust?

🌾 Conclusion: Returning to the Center

In reflecting on all of this — both the words of Jesus in Matthew 6 and Luke 12, and the sobering parable of the man with the storehouses — I’ve come to see two common extremes we can fall into as believers trying to navigate daily provision.

On one side, there’s the modern, Americanized mindset: one of consumerism, prepackaged convenience, and endless striving. We toil and hustle, we stay anxious about money, food, clothing, appearances — we live in fear of not having enough, forgetting that our Father already knows what we need (Matthew 6:32). We befriend the world, and in doing so, we stop trusting God as our provider.

But on the other side — and this is the one that can look so holy on the outside — there’s the homesteading or self-sufficiency path that can also become its own form of anxious striving. We prepare and preserve, we raise livestock and learn skills, we fill our shelves and storehouses with good intentions… yet still act out of fear. We say we’re trusting God, but sometimes we’re trusting in our own hard work. In our barns. In our self-reliance. And that too is a version of worldliness — because it places our faith in what we can do, rather than in who He is.

Both paths — whether it’s chasing mammon or storing up grain — can distract from the deeper call: to seek first the Kingdom of God and trust that all these things will be added unto us (Matthew 6:33). We weren’t made to live in fear, nor were we made to become our own saviors through skill and striving. We were made to abide, to trust, and to live lives that glorify God in the way we gather, work, eat, and rest.

Wherever we find ourselves — as full-time homemakers, modern moms in suburbia, or skill-building homesteaders — we’re called to return to the center: Christ. We must ask ourselves humbly, “Am I putting God at the center of my labor? Am I letting Him provide? Am I obeying Him with trust or justifying my own fears?”

May we teach our children not just how to raise chickens or spin wool, but how to recognize the voice of the Shepherd. May we train them not just to work the land, but to trust the Lord of the harvest. May we live in such a way that when they look back on our lives, they’ll see that above all else — God was our Provider.

Interpretive summary adapted from BibleReferences.com on Luke 12:27, emphasizing that Jesus calls us to trust in God’s provision — not to toil for His approval or to live in fear of lack. Full reference: biblereference.com/luke/12-27.html