Trying Softer

My younger son’s birthday is right around the corner. Every year as the thermometers rise and we turn the page to August, I think of the summer I was pregnant with him. We had some extreme heat that year and when I was almost full-term, there were days I felt I was being crowded out of my own body. The heat and physical discomfort made me determined to go into labor, so I started taking brisk walks in hopes of kicking my body into gear. I’ll never forget leaving the house one evening while my husband stayed back to put our two-year-old to bed. Sitting beside our pajama-clad son as they waved goodbye at the window, my husband called out “Remember, you’re not going to walk that baby out! He’ll come when he’s ready.” I was determined to prove him wrong, but labor ended up starting days later at a time and place that was not what I would have chosen.

Trying hard makes us feel powerful—like we can force a specific outcome and make circumstances unfold in the timing want. Unfortunately, though, it often causes us to think our effort is the most important factor.

In both parenting and ministry, I’ve learned that trying softer leaves more room for God to work and enables relationships to stay healthier. Taking this posture looks more passive but actually diverts our energy towards prayer and reliance on the Holy Spirit. It invites God to work in His timing and according to His plans. Trying softer means trusting Him to produce the fruit of patience, gentleness, and self-control when we’re tempted to take matters into our own hands and act with impatience, harshness, and impulsivity (see Galatians 5:22). Let’s explore a couple of real life examples to see how this looks

One of the most humbling places I’ve learned about trying softer has been in my role as a mom. My husband and I had always assumed our kids would go to college. As a former high school teacher, I looked forward to helping my boys chart a path that would open opportunities for higher education. However, at the start of his sophomore year, one of my sons began balking at my suggestions. He wanted nothing to do with building a resumé of experiences to showcase on college applications. Positioning himself to earn academic and extracurricular honors wasn’t compelling to him. No matter how I much I reasoned with him, he refused to listen.

Underlying tension simmered between us for months until it boiled over one day when I was peppering him with yet another helpful, albeit unsolicited, suggestion. In exasperation, my son cut me off mid-sentence and snapped: “College is stupid and a waste of money.” Offended and frustrated, I held back from spewing out an emotional reaction. In that moment, I realized trying harder to persuade him would have divided us even further.

Later, after much prayer and discussion, my husband and I agreed to let our son chart his path forward; all talk of college ceased in our household. We held our tongues but continued to pray that God would lead him to discover his passions and pursue the path that was best for him. Although it was difficult, we let go of the notion that college was his only option and waited to see how his plans would unfold.

Two years later, as our son prepared to start his senior year, I summoned the courage to ask about his post-high school plans. To my surprise, he told me he was interested in college and asked if I would help him with the application process. He later admitted to me that the pressure I had put on him to build his resumé felt inauthentic—like I was trying to make him “show well” to impress others instead of letting his genuine interests reveal who he was. He felt like a commodity to which I was trying to add value. It was sobering and convicting to hear his perspective. That fall he applied to four schools, received acceptances to all of them, and ended up choosing a small Christian college I never would have considered for him. 

This past May, my son graduated from that school after four incredible years. He thrived and grew there intellectually, spiritually, and relationally. Never once did I see a grade he received, but we often talked about what he was learning there. He gained valuable insights studying abroad in far flung places like Egypt, Israel, and India. At graduation he wore a cord around his neck signifying he’d completed his degree cum laude. He hadn’t even bothered to tell my husband and me. By easing off, we’d let him navigate decisions, make mistakes, and take ownership of his education. Better still, the change in our approach improved our relationship in ways we hadn’t anticipated.

The wisdom I’ve gleaned about trying softer has also benefitted me in ministry. I love serving and leading, but sometimes my enthusiasm creates a false sense of urgency. My desire to implement a vision and move plans forward can be on a timetable that’s a bit too aggressive. Trying harder to push my agenda or timeline often leads to hasty decisions, hard feelings, and frustrating interactions. 

After several missteps, I’ve learned the value of trying softer by pausing to pray and to give others time to do the same. Planning, serving, and leading in ministry without seeking God first is the opposite of abiding with Jesus. We can do nothing of spiritual significance on our own wisdom and strength. That’s what Jesus means when He says, “I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.” (John 15:5, NIV)

Just like with my son, patience, gentleness and self-control have helped me to try softer and have given the Lord room to work. Instead of pressuring people to make a decision, say yes to serving, or provide information I need, I’ve learned to give them time to respond thoughtfully. Treating others gently frees them to say “yes” or “no” with joy instead of guilt. Relying on the Holy Spirit’s guidance as I lead has created meaningful ministry bonds, lasting friendships, and zero drama.

Where are you tempted to try harder to force your agenda? How might trying softer increase your trust in God and improve your relationships? Consider praying and asking the Lord to show you one place in your life where you need more patience, gentleness, and self-control. Abide in Him and watch the fruit He bears through you.

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Staying Connected to the True Vine

I wish I was one of those people known for having a “green thumb”—the type that loves spending all day working in the garden. But truth be told, I’m more of the “black thumb” type. I’m not very good at tending to plants (or keeping them alive). There is only one place I’ve had success with something that grows and I can’t even take the credit for that.

My family has an old tree in the front yard that produces some of the sweetest, crunchiest apples I’ve ever tasted.  It was planted long before we ever bought the house, so we are just the grateful recipients of a previous owner’s forethought.  Every autumn we’ve picked enough to enjoy with our family and to share with friends and neighbors.

Then, a few years ago, the tree was getting a little tall and we decided it needed to be pruned back and thinned out.  The next spring, we were dismayed when not a single blossom sprouted on the tree. That fall, it was bare.  Not a single apple.  I was sure we’d ruined it for good.

Two years passed before the tree showed signs of returning to its former glory. Bountiful blossoms in the spring hinted at what was to come. By October the tree was so laden with apples that one of the limbs split away from the trunk.  Every weekend I would pick them to thin out the huge amount of fruit and lighten the load the branches were bearing.  I could work steadily for an hour, filling several bags, but when I’d look up at the tree, I’d barely made a dent.

Our experiences with that tree over the years have helped me to understand Jesus’ teaching in John 15 about the vine and the branches:

“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. If you do not remain in me, you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned.” (John 15:5-6, NIV)

Of the many concepts illustrated in this multi-faceted metaphor, there are three that I’ll explore briefly:

1) Remaining in Christ 2) Pruning Dead Branches 3) Producing Fruit

Remaining in Christ: The word “remain” here comes from the Greek “meno” and means “to stay.” It implies a commitment over the long haul. Some translations use the word “abide.” Lysa TerKeurst explains, “If we want to know God, we have to abide in Him…Really follow. Follow hard. Follow passionately. Follow fully. Follow with engaged minds and willing hearts and open hands and ready feet.” (Finding I Am p. 144)

When Jesus says, “apart from me you can do nothing,” He’s talking about doing things that are of spiritual or eternal significance. No matter how gifted, organized, engaging or passionate we are, we simply can’t be effective in the Kingdom of God if we aren’t continually attached to the Vine.  This is what Jesus illustrates when He explains that branches that don’t remain in Him wither and die. Just like the broken branch on my tree couldn’t produce any more apples, good works and ministry apart from Him are dead.

Pruning Dead Branches: To the casual reader, Jesus’ words about pruning sound harsh: dead branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned. But as I learned with my apple tree, the pruning process is necessary to yield even better results. Pruning doesn’t damage or kill a tree. In fact, our apple tree’s productivity exploded after we thinned out the branches and gave the remaining ones more room to grow. It took time, but the results were worth the wait.

Submitting to God’s pruning in our lives can be painful and confusing at times, but I’m reassured as I look back on those seasons in my life. Sometimes God must clear away “good” things in our lives to make room for His best. When we grasp His gifts too tightly, we can thwart opportunities for further growth. Although a pruned tree looks bare, it also allows in more sunlight and absorbs nutrients more effectively to produce better fruit.

Don’t let the pruning metaphor unsettle you—it’s not implying you can lose your salvation, it’s illustrating the vital importance of abiding consistently with Jesus.

Producing Fruit: Like a can of fruit cocktail, there are several types of fruit Jesus produces through us when we abide intimately with Him.  First and foremost, when we stay connected with the Vine we display the fruit of the Spirit described in Galatians 5:22: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. These aren’t characteristics we can manufacture in ourselves for any sustained amount of time. They only reveal themselves in our lives through the Holy Spirt as we abide closely with Jesus on a consistent basis.

We also bear fruit by sharing the gospel and leading other people into a saving relationship with Jesus. Good works flow out of us as we spend time with the Lord and align our hearts to His. The fruit we bear is the outward manifestation of intimacy with Him. (Colossians 1:6 & 10 also describes this.)

As we’re consistent about spending time in prayer, studying Scripture, obeying God’s Word, confessing our sins, and connecting with other believers, we’re receiving the nutrients we need for spiritual growth. So, if you’re lacking a green thumb in your garden like I am, be encouraged knowing you can be spiritually fruitful through the One who has the greenest thumb of all. All you have to do is abide in Him.

Click on the link and enjoy Matt Maher’s song “Abide with Me.” Make it your prayer today.

Lysa TerKeurst, Finding I Am: How Jesus Fully Satisfies the Cry of Your Heart, Lifeway Press 2016 & 2017.