When the Money Runs Out
The Faith to Keep Going
It always seems to happen after you’ve committed.
After you’ve burned the ships, staked your name, and told the world you believe God has more.
That’s when the bottom drops out.
For Gunnar Olson, it was a financial crisis that came like a winter storm. Orders dried up. Cash flow stalled. The same boardroom that once felt too bright now felt too dark.
He had believed—truly believed—that God’s Presence belonged in the business. That faith wasn’t just a nice sentiment, but a sustaining force.
And yet there he was: laying awake at night, wondering how he would pay his employees.
If you’ve ever trusted God with your work, you probably know this moment.
The moment when conviction collides with desperation.
It’s tempting to look back at the comfort you left behind, to second-guess every decision.
It’s tempting to believe the lie that faith is a liability you can’t afford.
But faith is not a reckless gamble.
Faith is trust in the character of God—especially when your circumstances refuse to cooperate.
Late one night, when the accounts were nearly empty, Gunnar did the only thing he knew to do: he committed the company back into God’s hands. He had often described this not as a grand, eloquent prayer, but a simple act of trust.
If God had called him into this work, then God would also be the One to sustain it.
And in that quiet place, he sensed the steady conviction that he didn’t have to force the outcome. Provision would come—maybe not in the way he expected, but enough for the next step.
The next day, an unexpected phone call arrived. A competitor—someone he never imagined would care—offered a contract that kept the business alive. No fanfare. No guarantees beyond tomorrow. But enough.
Enough to keep going.
We like to imagine God’s provision as abundance—overflowing accounts, comfortable margins, smooth sailing.
But more often, it comes like manna: just enough for today. No more, no less.
And maybe that’s the point.
If God gave us everything in advance, we’d stop needing Him.
If He removed all uncertainty, we’d start trusting ourselves.
But when provision comes in daily bread instead of annual budgets, our hearts learn dependence.
We remember who sustains us.
If you’re in a season where the money is running out—where the way forward feels impossible—let this remind you:
God is not anxious about your ledger.
He is not worried about your lack.
He is fully committed to His promises—and fully able to keep them.
This is how remembering becomes survival.
Not with frantic striving, but with quiet surrender.
Not with self-reliance, but with the humility to pray:
God, this is Yours too.
Next time, we’ll look at what happens when your private faith becomes a public movement—and how community can turn scarcity into strength.
Until then, keep your hands open.
Trust that He will meet you in the midnight hours.
And believe this:
If He called you, He will carry you.
By the way, this is a creative retelling and application of a small portion of Gunnar Olson’s story. To purchase a copy of his book, Business Unlimited, contact office@uk.iccc.net or listen to it as an audiobook.