“Jesus, what is going on here? Why am I dreading this day you are holding out to me as a gracious gift?”
I feel myself trying to gather the strength for what I need to do today. What I think I need to do. The way I think I need to do it.
“I am the vine; you are the branches. The one who abides in me and I in him bears much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing.” (john 15:5)
The blossoms along the path I run are so thick I can hardly find the leaves.
I measure myself by them and I think I know what fruitfulness is supposed to look like. Thick. Vibrant. Eye-catching. Blogs posted, books written, lives changed.
Tired days can feel like failed days when I count fruitfulness by words on the page.
But as I slow and listen to His heartbeat, I see that the fruit Jesus is promising is as different from my measures of productivity as the means of growing it is from drivenness. Yes, as I make my home in Him His life may flow through me in words written and floors swept, but the core of His promise is not that I’ll write more words or tick more things off my do-list, but that my being and doing will be marked by His character.
“The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience. . .” (Gal 5:22-23)
I sink deep into his love—and I love Him all the more.
Who could love me like this, with a love not dependent on what I bring? Joy awakens.
I settle into the assurance that His love isn’t changed by what I accomplish—and peace stretches and enfolds me.
When I know He’s not disappointed with my current word count, I can wait for Him to give the words in His time. Patience is growing.
And somehow as I make my home in His love the words are written and the work is done—and we got here gently, Him knowing me and I Him and both of us enjoying the other.
“I’ve loved you the way my Father has loved me. Make yourselves at home in my love.” (John 15:9, The Message)