WRITTEN BY: Hannah Rowen Fry

Once upon a time, there was a pastor who preached beautiful sermons that connected with her congregation and invited them to the life change that only God offers. Her preaching was dynamic and her pastoring was truly shepherding. She used these gifts Holy Spirit had given her to serve the Kingdom of God not out of striving or performance, but out of a deep abiding in God’s love. He was the vine, she the branches. Fruit was abundant as her and God nurtured the soil of his church together…

She saw this fruit with her own eyes. She watched lives change before her!

Those who had encountered the living God for the first time came up to her and said, “Thank you for using your gifts to serve! My life has changed because of your obedience and abiding.”

She saw baptisms and growth in attendance. She saw the fruit of donations rising as her congregation trusted God and submitted everything in their lives to him. She saw the marginalized and oppressed receive hope and light, and their oppressors grow more like Jesus.

Fruit was abundant and delicious–satisfying to her soul.

After decades of fruit-bearing, her ministry came to a peaceful end. She retired from her full-time pastoral work, and began empowering the next generations to continue tilling the soil of her fruitful garden. She lived the rest of her days abiding in God’s love as a branch on his vine. She rested in his truth as she continued to see the fruit of their partnership.

And she lived and died happily ever after.

Not a Fairy Tale

If only this was true.

No, that’s not how the story usually goes. Instead, she sees more weeds than fruit. She spends much of her time wondering why the soil is so hard to turn over, realizing it’s rocky clay instead of soft, fertile MiracleGro. She wants to serve without worrying about performance, but if one more person judges her preaching based on her outfit that day, she’s going to scream. Why does she need a stylist to share God’s good news, but her male counterpart can dig anything out of his closet?

Instead of blooming and blossoming with stories of life-change, she’s choked out by complaints and criticisms of the very souls she prays for each day. Sure, there are a few baptisms, and new small groups are forming each week. But tithing has decreased as more funds are directed towards missions instead of building projects and donors aren’t sure that’s where their money should go. The board unanimously decides to embrace social justice as a core value, but no one shows up to the first meeting to decide next steps.

She doesn’t see as much fruit as she thought she would. Much of it is oranges when she was trying to grow apples. And some of it is sour and on the verge of being rotten.

Better Than Fiction

So what does she do when the weight of not seeing fruit is too much to bear?

Psalm 128 reminds us of God’s truth when our reality doesn’t. “Blessed are all who fear the Lord, who walk in obedience to him. You will eat the fruit of your labor; blessings and prosperity will be yours” (Psalm 128:1-2).

The woman in this story is an amalgamation of myself, my friends, and other women whose stories I’ve heard over and over. Maybe you can relate to it, too. When it comes to bearing fruit for both men and women, there is often a disconnect between what we expect and what we actually see.

But does this mean the fruit isn’t there? When the weight of what you don’t see becomes too much to bear, consider the power of this unseen fruit.

How powerful is it to know that your life and ministry will be used by God to impact people farther and wider than you could ever even imagine?! Let me share a few examples.

I got a message from a woman I had never met saying a friend of hers had given her my devotional book. It came at just the right time in her life. And someway, somehow, God used my words in that book to encourage her in ways I will never fully know. If she hadn’t reached out to me, I would never have seen this fruit of my partnership with God in writing. But that fruit was thriving! Juicy, ripe, and nourishing to her soul. How much more power is there in this unseen fruit than in what my limited perspective can see!

Even in reflecting on my own life and how I’ve grown, I wonder how much of my ministry is the unseen fruit of those who came before me? I remember one time telling a pastor friend of mine about how I loved his words from a sermon nearly a decade ago.

He had preached, “As a pastor, I invite people to the altar often. But I hope I’ll never stop going to the altar.” And when I told him how powerful this sermon was and how these words had impacted me so deeply, he didn’t even remember preaching it! How much more fruit came from this sermon that he couldn’t even remember preaching?

There is a power in knowing you won’t see the fruit of all your labor.

If you are partnering with God to till soil, I can assure you there is an abundance of fruit that you will never see. And praise God! Praise God that he is using your gifts and your obedience to serve him to do far more than all you could ask or imagine according to his power at work in you (Ephesians 3:20)!

The Power of Sour Fruit

But let’s go back to the sour fruit for a moment.

When all you see is this overripe fruit, too tart to taste, falling off the vine… That fruit can still be made into wine. In fact, this kind of fruit often makes better wine than “good” fruit does. In winemaking, different kinds of grapes grow and thrive in different environments. And the vintner doesn’t always harvest the grapes based on the fruit, but on the kind of wine he or she intends to make from it. Sometimes they will let the grapes fall to the ground or get scorched by the sun, shriveling up a bit while still on the vine before they harvest and take them to be pressed. This makes a late harvest wine that’s not an accident or “plan B” for the fruit. It was what the winemaker intended all along.

Bad fruit still makes good wine.

There is a power in seeing our fruit, but how much more is there in what we can’t see?! It’s easy to want a fairy-tale story of bearing ripe fruit. It’s easy to think the sour, nearly rotten fruit we may bear is a sign of failure. But the blessings and prosperity written about in Psalm 128–the fruit that comes from obedient labor–might just be wine instead of grapes.

About the Author

Hannah Rowen Fry is a writer and speaker passionate about helping people live into their God-purpose. Her thoughtful reflections on Scripture invite those who feel overwhelmed to slow down, choose simplicity, and experience greater joy in the present moment. Read more about Hannah and her work at www.hannahrowenfry.com.