Fruit in Barren Soil

I took this photo of the field behind our townhouse in Abbotsford. The dark soil looks barren, but it’s ready. Growth is coming. That line of trees in the middle? It borders the narrow driveway that leads to our home.

It’s late spring here. Something fruitful is stirring beneath the surface.

In the Kingdom of God, fruitfulness rarely comes the way we expect. The path to lasting leadership, spiritual influence, or meaningful change often begins with loss. A stripping back. A surprising turn. A dying before the harvest.

It’s counterintuitive.

But that doesn’t make it wrong. It makes it holy.

Jesus taught us this pattern: “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone. But if it dies, it bears much fruit.”
—John 12:24

Moses had to flee the palace before he could lead.
David was chased through caves before he wore the crown.
Jesus endured betrayal and humiliation before resurrection.

This photo reminds me: the places that feel barren may be where God is doing His deepest work.

The Long Shortcut to Maturity

“The fear of the Lord is instruction in wisdom, and humility comes before honor.”

—Proverbs 15:33

When people reject us, sideline us, or critique us unfairly, it hurts. Our instincts kick in: defend, retreat, control, or adapt to survive. But Scripture invites us to a different way.

Mature leaders don’t fear humiliation when it comes from walking in truth. They learn to recognize it as a glowing signpost on the narrow road—an opportunity for transformation. Humility is the long shortcut toward honor.

Humiliation asks:

• Will you stay faithful when misunderstood?
• Will you trust God’s timing when honor is nowhere in sight?

Sometimes, our pain reveals a deeper wound: the image of God in us has not been honored. That matters, because we are His image-bearers. That’s why idolatry is forbidden—God has already placed His likeness in us. And that’s why loving God must include loving our neighbor (Mark 12:29–31).

When group culture forgets this, even well-meaning believers can dishonor God by dishonoring one another. That’s when He taps someone on the shoulder—not to fight or flee, but to carry the burden and help bring change.

How Do We Walk Through This?

Step 1: Search your heart.
Have I contributed to the problem? Is there something I need to make right?
If yes—take that step. If not, resist offering a false apology to keep the peace. That muddies the waters and props up dysfunction.

Instead of saying “I’m sorry,” try asking: “How can I make things as right as possible?”
This gives dignity to both sides and opens the door to conversation and possible reconciliation.

Step 2: Keep showing up.
Stay in the room.
Show up to the gathering, even if it’s awkward.
Be present at church, even if it stings.
Let love—not pride or shame—lead you.

When it’s time to move on, do so with blessing, not bitterness.
Don’t fracture inward. Multiply outward.

Jesus Walked This Path

He came to bring redemptive change—and was misunderstood, humiliated, and abandoned. Yet He never ghosted His people. He stayed grounded in His Father’s voice and mission.

This is the path of Moses. Of David. Of Paul.
And the invitation is extended to us.

If humility is here, we stay the course because we know honor is somewhere ahead.
Humiliation is a test of maturity.
Can we stay calm when dismissed?
Faithful when forgotten?
Loving when misunderstood?

Those who do change cultures—not by force, but by presence.
They embody the change they long to see.
They listen with grace.
They speak truth with love.
They remember: “Your response is not my responsibility.”

Over time, trust grows. And with it, influence. We are on the path to eternal servant leadership, training for reigning with Christ.

“…if we endure, we will also reign with him…” (2 Timothy 2:11-12).