A Different Economy

How Heaven’s economy still sustains what human systems keep trying to fix

By Josh Singleton | Founder and Lead Cultivator, The Neighborhood Garden Project

A cardboard sign lifted toward the sky reads: “SNAP FEEDS FAMILIES.” The posture says as much as the words — arms raised toward man, toward the systems we’ve built to replace God. Above it, the flag waves, symbolic of human strength and order. It’s not an image of rebellion but of dependence — a cry directed upward, but not Heavenward.

And it’s understandable. People are hungry. Families are struggling. Systems offer help, even if it’s temporary. Programs like this fill real gaps, keeping children fed and parents afloat. But beneath the surface, there’s a deeper ache that no policy can touch — an ache that began when humanity turned its gaze away from the One who fed them freely in the beginning.

Because the soil was always meant to feed families. The land was designed to overflow. From the very first breath, provision wasn’t distributed through systems, it was revealed through relationship. “And God said, Be fruitful and multiply… I give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the whole earth for food.” (Genesis 1:28–29) That wasn’t a plan for production — it was the design of partnership. Every seed carried within it the potential of abundance, activated through trust and stewardship.

When trust broke, that partnership fractured. “Cursed is the ground because of you; in pain you shall eat of it all the days of your life.” (Genesis 3:17) Humanity went from walking with God in the cool of the day to striving under the weight of self-sufficiency. We started lifting our hands not in worship, but in want. Since then, we’ve built systems to manage what was once freely given.

That’s what I see in this image — not a villain, but a pattern. Not failure, but forgetfulness. Every four years, new leaders promise what only Heaven can sustain. Wages shift, prices rise, systems reform — yet the ache remains because we keep looking up to man to do what only the soil, in alignment with God, was created to do.

Today, that same striving continues — unfair wages, inflation, political promises that rise and fall every few years. Each one another attempt to fix a spiritual fracture with material tools. As if the world could hand out rest in a system built on striving. We didn’t arrive at these problems today; they’re the fruit of an ancient rhythm — the Genesis 1–3 cycle of trust broken and toil resumed. The wide road that leads to death doesn’t look evil; it just looks busy, tired, and dependent on man to fix what man broke.

But the story didn’t end in Genesis 3. It began in Genesis 1–2 — in blessing, abundance, and peace. And that story still exists. The Kingdom of God has never stopped operating by its original rhythm. Provision still flows through relationship. Abundance still follows alignment. The garden still works.

Out here, the soil tells the truth. It doesn’t strive; it simply responds. When you tend it, it multiplies. When you ignore it, it hardens. When you return to it, it forgives. This is the economy of the Kingdom — not an idea or ideology, but a living reality. “Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over.” (Luke 6:38)

This isn’t about sides or systems. I’m not pointing out contrast — I’m inviting you home. Come and see what still works. Come and touch the soil that remembers what we’ve forgotten.

Join me in the garden, and I’ll show you what economy really looks like when Heaven leads it. Here, generosity isn’t rare — it’s natural. Peace isn’t seasonal — it’s steady. The ground beneath your feet still carries the original design: seed, time, and harvest. And every time we plant, we participate in the same promise that started it all.

“But seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.” — Matthew 6:33

The Kingdom isn’t an alternative system; it’s the only one that’s never failed. It’s the soil beneath every other soil. And it’s available to all who would return to what’s always been — a life rooted in trust, flow, and alignment with the Source of every good thing.

The ground remembers the blessing.
It’s waiting for us to return.