Fruit That Lasts: The Power of Abiding in Christ

We live in a world constantly “plugged in.” We’re bombarded by business meetings, social media posts, text messages, and a thousand other notifications. Everyone and everything seem to demand productivity and connection. Yet when our phones die, we don’t just keep scrolling on a blank screen hoping it will eventually work. We plug them into a power source and allow them to recharge.

But when it comes to our spiritual lives, we often do the opposite. We keep moving, producing, and serving long after our souls have run dry, trying to stay “on” without ever returning to the Source who gives us life. We attempt to function on low spiritual battery, mistaking our activity for intimacy.

It’s no wonder so many of us feel drained, distracted, and disconnected from God. Our calendars are full, but our hearts are empty. The truth is, we were never designed to live unrooted or unconnected. We were created to abide.

Today's culture celebrates constant motion, and the focus is progress, productivity, and measurable results. Even in ministry, it can be easy to believe that movement equals maturity. We tend to fill our days with serving, helping, creating, working, and leading. Yet, we can find ourselves wondering why our souls feel restless and empty.

Jesus speaks into that space of restlessness with a simple command of "Abide in Me". John 15:5 says, "I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing." The night before the cross, Jesus provided His disciples with this powerful picture of dependence. It's a kind of dependence that is living, constant, and rooted in Christ. Knowing His time was short, He didn’t tell His disciples to do more or go faster. He told them to remain. That night, in the face of chaos and uncertainty, His invitation was simple yet profound: stay close to Me. By calling them branches, He was saying that apart from Him, we can do nothing. It wasn't a suggestion to try harder in our own strength, but rather it was an invitation to spend time close to Jesus. You see, fruitfulness in the Kingdom has never been about our work or effort, it has always been about intimacy with Christ.

I think many of us have learned how to function without truly abiding. We know what it means to serve faithfully, teach truthfully, and work to the best of our ability but still miss communion with the One we are serving. It can be a subtle drift, easy for it to go unnoticed. We often start in the right place and drawing from God's presence, but over time we learn how to perform well enough to cover up our spiritual exhaustion. We end up praying less because we feel capable on our own, and we rest less because we feel too needed by those around us. As a result, we start to confuse momentum for maturity and ministry for intimacy.

When I was in college, I became spiritually "burnt out". I found myself saying yes to everything that looked like Kingdom work, but I was rarely saying yes to simply being with the Lord. I was serving in ministry, leading worship constantly, and going along with every opportunity that came my way. From the outside, my life looked "fruitful". But on the inside, I was exhausted. I remember feeling constantly on edge, like I was always one task behind. My prayers felt rushed, my worship felt hollow, and my joy for serving was slipping away. I had convinced myself that if I just kept saying “yes,” I was doing God’s work, but in truth, I was neglecting the One I claimed to serve.

There was one Sunday I was standing on a stage, singing about the faithfulness of God, and realizing that I hadn't actually sat with Him in weeks. When I finally slowed down, I realized that I had confused being busy for God with being close to God. I realized how disconnected I'd become from the very One who had called me to serve in the first place. That moment served as a loud correction but a quiet invitation to stop striving and start abiding.

Jesus' words in John 15 expose this illusion we often find ourselves in. Our spiritual reality is that we have nothing to offer in our own strength. Detached from Him, our fruit withers. What we produce may look good for a moment, but it won't last because it wasn't a product of the Lord. Abiding isn't laziness, it's a lifeline. It doesn’t mean stepping back from life; it means stepping closer to Jesus in the middle of it. You see, abiding was never about retreating from responsibility, but rather about returning to the reality that we were never meant to sustain ourselves.

Abiding begins with awareness. It's about noticing the subtle pull toward self-reliance on the day-to-day and choosing to remain anchored in Christ instead. To truly abide is about creating habits of communion instead of cycles of exhaustion. This may look like allowing silence for God to speak before you do, taking intentional time to listen for the Spirit's guidance before planning or moving, or returning to Scripture not just to supplement your teaching or services, but for personal nourishment. It’s the quiet moment before the day begins, when you choose Scripture over scrolling. It’s the breath you take before responding in frustration, inviting the Spirit to guide your words. In a world so focused on results and outcomes, abiding centers us on presence with Jesus. After all, Jesus doesn't measure success by how much we serve or produce, but rather by how much we remain in Him.

When we abide, the fruit we produce becomes inevitable. Galatians 5:22-23 says, "“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.” In this, we are reminded that the fruit of the Spirit isn't achieved by discipline alone, but it is grown by dependence. Abiding produces deeper love, steady peace, enduring patience, unconditional joy, and free flowing kindness. Because the truth is, before God grows anything through us, He wants to deepen what's within us. Roots always grow before the fruit appears. The deeper our roots sink into Christ, the stronger our branches become. God often works in ways we may not see. But in those seasons, He's teaching us patience, humility, and dependence so that when the fruit finally appears, it reflects His character, not our effort.

So, let this be a reminder to reach for God's presence before you reach for another plan or practice. Before you pour out again, let Him pour into you. We were never called to live or serve disconnected or depleted. We were made to be alive and dependent on the Vine that never runs dry. Friend, allow your roots run deep. You don’t have to keep running on low battery. Jesus isn’t asking for your performance; He’s offering His presence. The same way a branch naturally bears fruit when it’s connected to the vine, your soul will flourish when it rests in Him. Stay in His Word, stay in His love, and stay in His presence. As you do, you'll see that fruitfulness flows not from force, but from faithfulness. The more you abide, the more you will see His spirit multiplying through yours with fruit that lasts, fruit that blesses, and fruit that magnifies the glory of the One who made you fruitful.

May your roots run deep, and your faith remain strong! As always, Stay Rooted, my friends! <3