When I was a little girl growing up on our farm in North Carolina, we had fruit trees of every kind—apples, cherries, peaches, and pears. It was exciting to watch the bare winter limbs sprout blossoms that turned into sweet, sun-ripened fruit, which we'd use to make scrumptious homemade jams and mouthwatering summer cobblers. But what I didn’t understand then is what I treasure now: The fruit was only possible because the trees had strong, unseen roots.
What I didn't realise as a child was just how long it had taken those trees to produce anything at all. Apple trees grown from a sapling can take five to ten years to bear fruit. A tree grown from seed can take even longer. My parents planted the trees from which I picked fruit long before I was born—at least twenty years earlier. Before there was fruit, there had to be a solid root system—strong enough to support the weight of what was coming. And if the conditions aren’t right, growth can take even longer.
But that doesn't mean nothing's happening. It means something lasting is being formed.
Now, years later, I often scrutinise my own fruitfulness in life. I find myself looking around at everyone else’s blooming season—bright careers, big ministries, beautiful outcomes—and wonder, Why don’t I see fruit like that in my life right now? It’s easy to forget that fruit always follows deep rooting.
Jeremiah 17:7–8 encourages us: “But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit” (NIV).
In seasons when fruit feels scarce—when we don’t feel productive, seen, or useful—God is still at work beneath the surface. The root system He’s building in us is no small thing. Down-reaching groundwork in trust. In His Word. In His presence. It’s what anchors us when life gets hot, heavy, or hard.
We live in a world that celebrates fruit: results, visibility, growth we can measure. But God celebrates roots. He looks at the hidden things—faithfulness in obscurity, obedience in the quiet, love that doesn't make the highlight reel.
Roots come before fruit. Anchoring roots—formed in prayer, Scripture, and authentic fellowship—are the hidden foundation of every fruitful life. The deeper the root work, the more plentiful and lasting the fruit. Jesus reminds us in John 15:5 that our fruitfulness depends on staying connected to Him: “Yes, I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from me you can do nothing” (NLT).
Maybe you feel like you’re not blooming right now. Maybe you’re praying more than producing, or healing more than hustling. That’s okay. Trees don’t bloom year-round, but they’re still growing. You are still growing.
So let’s stay close to the Source. Let His Word water the dry places and His grace strengthen what’s growing underneath. Let’s not rush the process or resent the quiet seasons. They’re not a pause in our purpose—they’re preparation. Because in the Kingdom of God, roots grow before fruit. And what He’s growing in us is fruit that will last.
God, help me trust that even when I don’t see results, You’re still growing something in me. Anchor me in Your Word and keep me close to Your heart. Let my roots go deep so that when the fruit comes, it’s lasting and life-giving. Amen.
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