Faithfulness. To me, this seems like a big one. Like love, it is one of the building blocks of the Christian walk. Many will say that God is love, His very countenance drips with it and every time He acts, the action operates out of it. And yes, over the past weeks, we’ve been seeing how each Fruit of the Spirit is an intrinsic piece of who God is. To that degree, none should be discounted. But to me, God is faithfulness. He wouldn’t be who He is without His steadfast reliability. And maybe that’s not a great word for it. Reliability makes it seem so responsible or obligatory, but to me, God’s faithfulness is the fact that He has never once relented in His pursuits for His people. He is faithful because He loves, but His love for us is because of His faithfulness.

So what makes goodness different from kindness? Aren’t they the same thing? I used to feel the same way. The short answer is, they are similar but not the same. In Galatians, the Greek word for kindness is chrestotes, like we learned last week, but goodness is derived from the word, agathosune. Where kindness means serviceable or helpful in a tender, concerned way, goodness means “virtue equipped at any point,” or a more righteous integrity.

Kindness is something we’re taught as children. When we’re young, we learn to show others more kindness and value it in our own character. For many, somewhere along the way, other things take precedence: our comfortability, our pride, whatever it might be. But many times, kindness loses its luster as we grow older, getting put on the back burner. And yet, if you ask someone to list what they look for in a friend or in a romantic partner, kindness will probably be on that list, if not one of the first things. So if we expect kindness out of others, why is it such a struggle to show kindness ourselves? Because the fact is, when God names kindness as a Fruit of the Spirit, it’s not exclusive to people we find easy to love. It’s for everyone– strangers, friends, family, acquaintances, and yes, even people we’d rather not spend time with.

Patience. No one likes talking about patience. Love? Joy? Peace? Those are all Fruits of the Spirit that people love talking about, but patience? Pass. In truth, patience is a hard virtue to work on, because it’s one season of life’s seasons we’d all rather avoid; but at the same time, we can’t cultivate patience within ourselves if we are never challenged to wait.

First, love: a love that can only be shared once it is experienced in its deepest form, by realizing the love God gave to us and allowing it to transform us from the inside out. Second, joy: a joy that wells up and overflows from the innermost parts of us and is not dependent on external happiness to be sparked or sustained, having the ability to remain joyful for others regardless of our personal issues. Today, peace. More specifically, inner peace– as the Amplified Bible so specifically points out. Are you noticing a trend? Because I am!

Last week, love. This week, joy. I think this Fruit of the Spirit is a little taken for granted. I’m not sure many people would come out and say, “I have an issue with joy,” or “I find it hard to be joyful.” But I think that’s because we have a misunderstanding of what joy truly is.

The Fruits of the Spirit remind me of Sunday school lessons. No matter where you go to church, odds are, if you were a kid there was some kind of poster or coloring sheet that had pictures of apples, oranges, bananas, grapes, etc. and they all were labeled with a different fruit of the Spirit. There are songs that we learn in order to memorize them, and maybe you were given a piece of candy or a prize if you could list them all off the top of your head. As we get older, the term “Fruits of the Spirit” feels like a Christianese phrase that is glossed over and never really thought about beyond that Sunday school lesson from decades ago. It’s kind of on the same level as the armor of God, or the Ten Commandments: really, it’s a foundational idea to the Christian walk, but it’s reviewed so often that we forget the precious values these things hold for us to spiritually mature past the Bible basics.

It’s a perspective we all understand, as it’s a basic experience we’ve all had to live through if we’ve been born and grown up. No matter who you are or where you are in your Christian walk, the sentiment is easy to understand. God formed you in your mother’s womb. When no one else knew you, not even your parents, God knew you. There is nothing about you that could be hidden from the Lord. All through the standard nine months your mother was pregnant with you, she wondered: what color would her baby’s eyes be? Their hair? Would it be a boy or a girl? What would your personality be? What would you grow up to do?

I always find it silly when I’m talking about Jesus to someone and they say something along the lines of, “I can’t be a Christian. God doesn’t want me. I’m too far gone for all that.” In theory, I can understand what they mean, and I can sympathize with the fact that someone thinks they are outside of God’s love for them or that they’ve done something to disqualify them from being a part of what God is doing. We might all feel like that at some time or another– caught up in our flesh and sin, knowing we have done wrong– and felt that there was no way Jesus could save us after knowing how despicable we are. To feel that way is to not understand what Jesus did on the cross, and the full extent of that salvation extended.

When you were little, did your school do a grandparents day? Mine did, and I always loved it. It was always a special day where you got to have some of the most important people in your lives come to school, listen to you sing a song, have a snack, and show off your best art projects to. And I think I was probably more lucky than most kids, because I had more grandparents than the average kid. You see, both my parents’ parents are divorced and remarried before I was born, so I never knew the norm was to have only two sets of grandparents. Plus, I had two great-grandmas, so I had quite a pack to choose from.

If you’ve been with me since the beginning of this ministry, you’ll know we’ve been doing this for a while. In fact, this August will be the 5 year anniversary of Soul Deep’s launch. Over the years, we’ve been reading and studying together every week– there was a time where we used to post twice a week, too!– which means we’ve gotten together like this through the internet somewhere around 250 times, give or take. You’ll remember that there have been other voices that have shared what God was saying to them, but mine has probably been the most consistent. In fact, consistency is one of my disciplines– maybe at some times, to my detriment– because there have been many times where I’ll be watching TV on a Monday night and say, “I have to write a devo for tomorrow!” or , “I don’t have any ideas of what to post tomorrow.” To which my husband might say, “So take a break. You don’t have to force it. Give it a few days to see if something convicts you enough to write.”But I’m a very strong-willed person, and letting you all wake up on Tuesday morning, excited to read and connect over God's Word only to find an empty inbox, is not something I can easily accept.

I am not one of those people that titles their year with a word every January. Don’t get that confused with being a words girl, which I am to the core. I’m just not that type of person who announces to the world every year that I am going to study, meditate on, and learn to embody one word throughout the year. Lots of people do this, and I always find it really interesting to see where people are in their own personal walks every year; choosing words like “vision,” “courage,” “steadfastness,” the list goes on.

Hey Pops, It almost seems unreal that it could be 2022. Somehow, as a child, you think about what being grown will be like, but it’s hard to actually realize it. It’s almost like we take things for granted, whether it be our youth or being blessed enough to live long enough to step into the unknowns of life. There’s something about a new year that feels like standing on the edge of a pool. There’s no doubt that you will plunge in, but when? How? Once you’ve committed to a plunge, gravity takes over and there is no going back.

Over the last month, we’ve been picking apart Psalm 23, one of the most recognizable passages of scripture there is. David, the author of the psalm was a king, a shepherd, a son, but most importantly, a man that was passionately invested in a relationship with God. If anyone understood the deep nuances of every line of this psalm, it was David himself. If there was anyone qualified to compare God to a shepherd, it was David.In six, short verses, we were taken through the green pastures and still waters of a life laid in submission to the Lord; a life that allows God to lead and take care of our needs. From there, we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, an ominous valley surrounded by the trials of life on all sides. Then, we sit down at a table prepared by the Lord, but a table set in a room full of our enemies, an oasis of comfort and rest in the middle of a not-so-wonderful situation.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. It’s such a short sentence, but it is a powerful picture of the Christian walk. I’m sure you’ve been there, because we all have. We all have enemies. And sometimes, our enemy isn’t a person. Sometimes our enemy is something completely unseen that tucks itself up to the table and stares us down, waiting for us to blink. Depression. Anxiety. Fear. Unemployment. Infertility. Disappointment. Lost dreams. Low self esteem and body issues. Grief. Intimidation. Disease. The list can go on and on.

Up until now, Psalm 23 has painted pleasant, calming, peaceful images of belonging to Jesus. This week, things take a turn into some darker, more treacherous territory. Suddenly, we go from green, rolling, lush pastures and still, glassy, crystal water to the valley of the shadow of death; a place that conjures up a picture of a dark, rocky, unforgiving canyon that imposes on all sides. We all know this valley. We’ve all been here before, in fact, some might argue that all of life is a walk through the valley of the shadow of death. That could be true, since all of life is lived in the inevitable shadow of death, felt more keenly on some days than others.