Joni Lamb Secretly Sold Her Homes & Ministry Jet Before She Died — Why?

Joni Lamb’s Final Moves Raise New Questions About Wealth, Faith and Daystar’s Future

In the months before her death, Joni Lamb, the co-founder and president of Daystar Television Network, appeared to be doing what many wealthy Americans do near the end of life: putting her affairs in order. But because Lamb led one of the largest Christian broadcasting ministries in the world, those private decisions have become a public matter.

Lamb died May 7, 2026, at age 65. Daystar said she had been facing serious private health challenges before a recent back injury worsened her condition; the network did not release an official cause of death. The Associated Press reported that Daystar described her as a leader who had prepared a team to continue the ministry after her passing.

What has drawn scrutiny is not simply that Lamb made estate plans. It is the timing, the scale and the context. According to the supplied transcript and reporting it summarizes, Lamb sold multiple homes, placed other properties into a trust, removed her husband Doug Weiss from the title of a Florida beachfront condo shortly before her death, and saw the ministry’s Gulfstream jet sold amid broader questions about Daystar’s finances.

Daystar is not an ordinary nonprofit. It is controlled by Word of God Fellowship, an organization that has long claimed church status. Under IRS rules, churches and some church-affiliated organizations are generally exempt from filing the Form 990 returns that most nonprofits must make public. That means donors cannot easily see executive compensation, travel costs or detailed spending.

That lack of transparency is central to the controversy. The Roys Report said an internal Daystar document showed Lamb’s compensation rose to more than $1 million after the 2021 death of her husband, Marcus Lamb. Daystar disputed the accuracy of that figure, saying executive pay was set with professional guidance; Jonathan Lamb, Joni’s son and a former Daystar vice president, told the outlet the compensation was real.

The real-estate trail is equally striking. Trinity Foundation, a Dallas-based watchdog group that investigates religious ministries, reported that Lamb sold three homes and placed four properties into a trust to avoid probate. The same report said Daystar encouraged viewers through its legacy stewardship program to consider estate planning and charitable gifts. Daystar’s own legacy page describes estate planning as a way to transfer property to chosen people, avoid probate, make charitable contributions and maintain privacy.

For Lamb’s defenders, those actions may look prudent, even responsible. A trust is a common tool for privacy and orderly transfer of assets. Selling homes before death can simplify an estate. Removing a spouse from a property title may reflect a prenuptial agreement or a carefully negotiated family plan.

But for critics, the pattern looks different. They see a ministry leader asking ordinary viewers to put Daystar in their wills while quietly restructuring her own multimillion-dollar estate. They see luxury homes, private aviation and family conflict unfolding inside a religious empire funded by faith and trust.

The ministry jet has long been a symbol of those tensions. In 2020, Inside Edition reported that Daystar received a $3.9 million Paycheck Protection Program loan and, weeks later, bought a multimillion-dollar Gulfstream V. Marcus Lamb denied that taxpayer funds were used to buy the aircraft, and Daystar later repaid the PPP loan with interest.

Years later, Trinity Foundation tracked flights it said were connected to personal travel by Joni Lamb and Doug Weiss, including trips between Texas, Colorado and Florida. Chron reported that Trinity’s Pastor Planes project tracks aircraft used by ministries and alleges that Daystar’s jet was used for travel to homes in Colorado and Florida; Trinity estimated personal flights cost far more than commercial travel would have.

The questions around Lamb’s finances were complicated by family turmoil. After Marcus Lamb’s death, Joni became Daystar’s public leader. In 2023, she married Weiss, a Colorado Springs psychologist and author, and he became a co-host of “Ministry Now.” The marriage created friction with Jonathan Lamb, who had been viewed by some as a likely successor.

The dispute escalated into allegations of surveillance, pressure and retaliation. The Roys Report published accounts from Jonathan and Suzy Lamb saying a tracking device was found in Jonathan’s company car, that he was pressured to sign a nondisclosure agreement, and that he was later demoted and fired. Daystar did not respond to some of the outlet’s questions, according to the report.

More serious allegations followed. Jonathan and Suzy Lamb alleged that a male relative had sexually abused their young daughter and that Joni Lamb discouraged them from going to police. Joni denied the allegations. In May 2025, KERA reported that Colleyville police closed the investigation with no charges filed, citing insufficient evidence.

The closing of a police investigation did not heal the family divide. After Joni’s death, Entertainment Weekly reported that Suzy Lamb said her family was not informed directly by Daystar or Joni’s household and learned of the death through a Daystar attorney.

That is the human tragedy beneath the financial story: a family that built a global Christian media platform together, then fractured in public before reconciliation could come.

So why did Joni Lamb sell homes, move property into a trust and alter ownership records before she died?

The most cautious answer is also the most plausible: she knew her health was failing and was preparing her estate. The documents described by Trinity and other reports suggest planning, not accident. They suggest an effort to control inheritance, avoid probate, protect certain assets and clarify who would receive what after her death.

But the broader question is not only why Lamb acted. It is why so much remains unknowable.

If Daystar filed the same public financial disclosures as most major nonprofits, donors could review executive compensation, travel expenses, related-party transactions and governance practices. Instead, much of the picture has emerged through leaked documents, lawsuits, public property records, aviation tracking and watchdog reporting.

That does not prove wrongdoing. But it does create a vacuum, and vacuums invite suspicion.

Joni Lamb’s legacy is not simple. She helped build a Christian television network that reaches viewers around the world. Daystar says it broadcasts into more than 200 countries and reaches billions of homes. For many viewers, Lamb was a familiar and comforting presence, a woman who spoke in the language of faith, healing and perseverance.

Yet the final chapter of her life leaves hard questions for Daystar’s leaders, donors and the wider world of televangelism. How much wealth should ministry executives accumulate? Who watches the books when churches are exempt from public reporting? When viewers give sacrificially, do they deserve more than assurances?

Lamb did not invent the prosperity-gospel economy. But her final year exposed its contradictions with unusual clarity: private wealth beside public appeals, family grief beside institutional control, estate planning beside donor stewardship.

The paper trail does not answer every question. It does, however, point to one conclusion: Joni Lamb was preparing for an ending. Now Daystar must decide whether it is prepared for accountability.