From Ego to Eden: Returning to the Mission that Multiplies
By Josh Singleton | Founder, The Neighborhood Garden Project
There’s a kind of giving that looks generous but doesn’t really help. It feels good to the one giving, but it doesn’t always bring healing to the one receiving. I see this a lot in the nonprofit world. Giving that’s more about being seen doing something good than actually doing what’s right. It’s become normal. Even celebrated. But a lot of it is built on numbers, reports, and how it looks on paper, not on what actually changes a life.
This kind of giving usually starts with action instead of connection. It moves fast, stays in control, and keeps a safe distance. It looks like compassion, but it often misses the point. Because without relationship, giving becomes just another transaction. We show up with a check, but we don’t show up with our hearts.
And most people don’t even know they’re doing it. Jesus said from the cross, “Father, forgive them—they don’t know what they’re doing.” That line doesn’t just apply to that moment. It applies now too. It speaks into the nonprofit world, the boardrooms, the fundraising plans. Because if we’re honest, a lot of what we call generosity is actually a way to protect ourselves. We want to feel good about helping, but we don’t want to be uncomfortable. We want to make a difference without letting that difference touch our own lives.
So what happens? We give money, but we keep our distance. We stay in control. We send the check but never share our story. Even when the gift is big, it often circles back to the giver—through the thank-you letter, the photos, the recognition. But if we’re not careful, that kind of giving stays thin. Because real fruit doesn’t grow from ego. And it doesn’t grow from far away.
This kind of giving might look good to the world. But it’s empty on the inside. It doesn’t multiply. It doesn’t restore. And sometimes, without meaning to, it keeps people stuck right where they are. Because when the one giving stays at the center, the one receiving never feels free.
Ego doesn’t always shout. Sometimes it whispers through exhaustion, pride, or even “doing good.” It hides behind mission statements and phrases like “change-maker” or “impact-driven.” But ego always wants credit. It wants to be the one who made the difference. And that mindset has shaped whole systems in the nonprofit space. We start measuring people instead of knowing them. We spend more time tracking data than sitting with someone face to face. We create plans that run like machines. And we call that success.
But ego will fund a cause as long as it gets to stay in charge. It will talk about Jesus as long as it doesn’t have to die to itself. And here’s the hardest part—it’s not just “out there.” It’s in us too. I’ve served from ego. I’ve wanted to be needed. I’ve pushed too hard trying to prove I mattered. But the Spirit of God is inviting us into something better. Not to beat ourselves up. Not to be quiet. But to let go. To surrender.
So we have to ask: where has ego crept into our best intentions? Where have we been busy building something God never asked for? Where are we chasing results instead of walking in obedience?
Because ego has to go before Eden can return.
Back in Eden, giving wasn’t separate from being. There was no pressure to prove anything. Just presence. God didn’t send Adam to fix a broken world. Nothing was broken yet. God just wanted someone to walk with Him. Genesis tells us that no plants had grown yet because there was no one to work the ground. The rain was waiting on a person. The provision was already in God’s heart, but He waited for someone willing to walk with Him.
That tells me something big: God doesn’t rush to bless something just because we think it’s time. He waits for a vessel. He’s not looking for performers. He’s looking for partners. The increase comes through relationship, not results.
And this is still true. He doesn’t need our systems. He wants our surrender. Heaven has always needed a body on earth. Not to carry the whole weight, but to walk with Him. To say yes. To tend what He gives us.
So many people are trying to grow their nonprofits with the right strategy. But Eden didn’t grow from a plan. It grew from alignment. When Adam stepped into position, the rain fell. Not because of his effort. But because of trust.
But when ego entered, that trust broke. And now we measure how much we give, how much we “do,” how many people we serve. We’re giving, but we’re still guarding ourselves. We’re planting gardens from a distance, and calling it impact.
Even our generosity can become about proving something. But God isn’t impressed by performance. He’s drawn to presence.
The invitation now is simple: come back. Not to a place, but to a posture. The Eden posture. Where giving flows from trust. Where we walk close, not fast. Where fruit grows because we’re rooted in Him, not because we’re trying to earn something.
Money is flying around everywhere—billions every year in the nonprofit world. But people are still hungry. Still lonely. Still unseen. That tells me money can’t solve this. Only Presence can. Only people who are willing to walk, not just give.
A lot of what’s being called success in the nonprofit world is really just movement. Not fruit. Not transformation. Just busyness. God lets us feel the weight of that sometimes, not to punish us, but to bring us back to Him. He lets the money run out. He lets the plans fall apart. He lets us hit the end of our strength. So we can come back to the beginning.
Rest isn’t quitting. It’s trusting. In the Kingdom, rest means being in step with God. It means letting go of control. Letting Him bring the rain. And when He breathes, what grows isn’t managed—it multiplies.
The world doesn’t need more programs. It needs people rooted in God. People who know that fruit only comes from faithfulness. People who’ve been through the fire and still say yes. People who carry Eden in their spirit.
So the question now is simple: where are they?
Where are the ones who will walk even before the money shows up? Who don’t wait for a board’s permission to obey God’s voice? Who’ve been stripped of the need for certainty, and are now rooted in trust? Where are the ones who see the millions being passed around—and still know that true change only happens where God is present?
If that’s you—if something in your spirit is waking up—you’re not alone. There’s a remnant rising. Quiet. Faithful. Steady. You don’t need to prove yourself. You don’t need to rush. Just keep showing up. Keep saying yes. Keep walking. Eden isn’t behind us—it’s ahead. Waiting to be cultivated again by sons and daughters who don’t need applause to keep going.
We’re done performing. We’ve chosen Presence. That means we’re willing to leave behind the systems we once thought we needed. Because God is showing us they were never the source. He was. He still is.
He has every dollar, every person, every door this work will ever need. And He knows how to provide. Not on our schedule. But always on time. He’s not just the one who gave the vision—He’s the one holding the checkbook. And when He funds something, it’s not just to start it. It’s to see it through.
So we don’t chase money anymore. We walk with the One who owns it all. And when He moves, nothing can stop it. Not systems. Not fear. Not lack. He funds what He started. And He finishes what He funds.