Care to guess the fruit of my first year of marriage? A lot of broken plates. In that year I produced more broken plates and angry screams than anything else. If the fruit of the Spirit in us is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faith, gentleness, and self-control, I was a barren tree — that liked to throw plates.
While Michael and I were dating, I was a seemingly fruitful woman. I was in love, joyful, and peaceful because God had finally brought my Mr. Perfect. I wasn't struggling with impatience like I did before I met Michael. As for kindness, that was easy; I wanted to please him. Fruit was overflowing in my life. Then it all changed.
Michael and I married later in life. We were both in our 30s when we eloped to the Bahamas. By our third decade, each of us was set in our ways and used to life on our own. So when we moved in together after getting married, our worlds turned upside down — and the fruit fell off both our trees.
Our fights seemed monumental. We'd both get so upset at our inability to communicate that we'd explode in anger. In our best efforts to manage our relationship, Michael and I set up "anger management" stations in our fruit cellar. With a big pile of ceramic plates for me and a punching bag for him, we were ready for every foreseeable tiff. Every time we argued, I'd run downstairs and pick up a plate and scream as I sent it careening into the wall. The sensation of destruction and the outpouring of my anger on that fragile object relieved enough stress for me to return to the fray and power through the next few hours. Ah, wedded bliss!
Before marriage, the fruitful life came fairly easily; hope was the focus, and fantasy was the certainty. However, after marriage, the fruitful life stood in direct opposition to my feelings of bitterness, anger, doubt, and pain. I came to realize that the fruit of the Spirit doesn't show itself so much when life is a dream, when there's no chaffing, no trials, no suffering, and no compromise.
What shows itself in those moments of perfection is the fruit of the flesh seen in Romans 8:5, which tells us, "For those who live according to the flesh think about the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit, about the things of the Spirit." When I set my mind on the things of the flesh, then the fruit of that life is good. Out of the satisfaction of my flesh came fruit that resembled the fruit of the Spirit but was merely flesh in a moment of relationship perfection.
But marriage was totally different. Never before had the sin in my life been so exposed for another to see — and another's for me to see. I'm unable to abandon my self-protection, self-importance, and self-obsession, especially when Michael's wrong, hurtful, or ignorant. I naturally resort to self when tested. When I'm misunderstood, I get defensive. When I'm uncomfortable, I complain. When I'm tired, I'm cranky. When I'm at the end of my rope, I lack all self-control. So the descriptive fruitful wife doesn't come naturally to me.
Whenever Michael points out, exposes, or reminds me of my failures in life, my first reaction is the opposite of fruitful. I want to respond with any combination of another kind of fruit, which I call the nine fruit of the flesh: selfishness, joylessness, conflict, impatience, mercilessness, immorality, unfaithfulness, pride, and self-indulgence. These come easily, but the nine fruit of the Spirit go against every fiber in my being. My flesh literally fights against them, making war in my heart and mind. In Romans 7, Paul identifies with this war: "So I discover this principle: When I want to do what is good, evil is with me. For in my inner self I joyfully agree with God's law. But I see a different law in the parts of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and taking me prisoner to the law of sin in the parts of my body" (21–23).
Paul's words tell me that I'm not alone. I believe that nowhere is this principle seen so forcefully and tragically as in the relationship of husband and wife. Too many Christian marriages end in divorce or hang on in a coma-like state. Why? Because of this war that wages within. This battle between the flesh and the Spirit isn't spoken of as much as the symptoms of the battle. Our feelings of betrayal, hurt, rejection, abandonment, isolation, and frustration are often talked about, but they're not the root of the problem — only the symptoms. The root lies in our spiritual barrenness, our lack of the fruit of the Spirit. The Holy Spirit enters the life of the believer with all the power of God because that's what He is: God, the Holy Spirit, dwelling inside each of us. And with that Spirit comes all that we need for life, faith, hope, and love.
The fruitful wife doesn't rely on her own strength, abilities, or nature for the growth of fruit. She isn't stuck within the confines of her personality, unable to break free to the fruitfulness of more love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, faith, goodness, and self-control.
If you lack any of those, as I do, then thank God that He doesn't leave it all up to us. The fruit of the Spirit is the manifestation of the Holy Spirit in our lives. The prescription for a more fruitful life is abiding in Christ. As Jesus explains in John 15:5, "I am the vine; you are the branches. The one who remains in Me and I in him produces much fruit, because you can do nothing without Me."
The big question is, Can you truly bear fruit if you aren't abiding? I know many nonbelievers who love, who are kind, gentle, patient, and joyful. They love their families, they help their friends, and they serve the world, sometimes better than believers — but only because it feels good. Their fruit grows because of the payoff they receive. A woman might love a man because of how he makes her feel. People might give because of how it relieves their guilt. People do things, when it doesn't come from the Spirit, primarily because of the pleasure they receive. Deep down, even those who seem selfless and good can simply be serving themselves. And though these good things can be beneficial and kind, it isn't evidence of the life of the Spirit or His fruit because the ultimate goal is glorifying self and not God.
We must understand that when we aren't abiding in Christ, any fruit worth producing isn't sustainable. When hard times hit, the fruit produced by sheer brute strength falters because it isn't the produce of the Spirit but the flesh attempting to please itself.
We want more fruit of the Spirit, but we can't seem to find it. So let's examine the purpose of the fruit of the Spirit. Have you considered the idea of the tree? It doesn't grow fruit for itself but to give it to those who would take it from its branches. Fruit doesn't satisfy the tree from which it grows; it's meant to give glory to the Gardener and to benefit those who have need of its fruit. So it is with our fruit, which is meant for being beneficial. We can't consider the purpose of the fruit of the Spirit to be our happiness but the glory of God and the hope, faith, and life of others. Our fruit is meant to serve the hungry and to prove the goodness of the Spirit from which it comes to those who would partake of it. The ultimate goal is to serve the Gardener by feeding those who have access to its fruit.
So the fruit of the Spirit isn't about pleasure or pleasing self at all but about denying self and giving all to the glory to God. It's about needing nothing for ourselves from the fruit we produce. It's truly unconditional, meant to serve the will of God. This fruit comes not from the goodness of our hearts but from the goodness of the Spirit of God, who lives in our hearts. By abiding in Christ and desiring to respond to the Spirit's promptings rather than to our flesh, we set our minds on the things of the Spirit rather than the things of the flesh. When that happens, our fruit begins to flourish.
I can tell you from experience that what I lacked as a wife in the area of fruitfulness wasn't due to God's lacking but to my misunderstanding of His power and nature and my inability to be mindful of remaining in Christ in my everyday thoughts and actions.I react from my emotional center, a place that not only makes the most sense to me but also speaks highly of me and seems to have my best interests at heart.
I've given lip service to Christ almost daily yet based my decisions on myself. But I've found great relief from much of my self by learning to abide through understanding the fruit that comes from abiding. It's my prayer that you also, through learning to abide and experiencing a deeper spiritual awakening to the words of Galatians 5:22–23, will find your life and your marriage to be more fruitful than you've ever imagined it could be.
This article is courtesy of HomeLife Magazine.