“I am the true vine, and My Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit, He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit, He prunes it so that it may bear more fruit.” – John 15:1-2 (NASB)
Like lessons from the geese in my last reflection, additional lessons from God’s creation can be seen in plant life. Most of a plant’s life happens underground. Before a tree ever produces shade or fruit, it sends its roots deep into the soil. Long before anything visible appears, those roots search for water, cling to nutrients, and anchor the tree against storms. No one stops to admire roots. And yet, without them, nothing else survives.
Scripture often returns to this image. “Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord,
And whose trust is the Lord. For he will be like a tree planted by the water
That extends its roots by a stream…” (Jeremiah 17:7-8). The psalmist echoes the same truth, describing the righteous as trees that yield fruit in season because they are firmly planted (Psalm 1:1-3). And Paul reminds the church to live lives “rooted” and “built up in” Christ (Colossians 2:6-7).
We live in a culture that celebrates visible growth – results, productivity, fruit. But faith does not mature on display. It grows quietly, patiently, often unseen: prayer offered when no one is watching, Scripture read when answers are not immediate, trust practiced in ordinary days. These are the roots.
There are seasons when we may wonder if anything is happening at all. We show up, we pray, we worship, we try to live faithfully – and still, there is no obvious fruit. Scripture reassures us that these seasons are not wasted. God may be strengthening what will later sustain us. When drought comes, it is the depth of the roots that determines whether a tree endures.
The question we might ask ourselves, then, is not simply, “What am I producing?” but “What am I rooted in?” Are our lives drawing nourishment from Christ, or from the shifting soil of anxiety, achievement, or approval?
Fruit will come in its time, but first, God tends the hidden places. And that quiet work – deep beneath the surface – may be the most faithful work of all.