Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. John 15:4

A branch is not “free” when it is broken off from a tree; it’s dying. 

And the Christian life without Christ isn’t difficult; it’s utterly impossible. 

This explains how I’ve come to discover that true freedom and flourishing aren’t found in my own striving, or in pursuing the world’s idea of pleasure, but through being attached to the One I’m most dependent on—Christ Himself.

There’s a beautiful process in gardening called grafting. It’s where a branch—that’s fallen away or cut off—is joined to a living vine or tree. Once joined, the branch and vine begin to share the same life source. They become one. Spiritually, that is what happens to us who believe. In the moment we realize we can’t produce life on our own and come to Jesus, we are grafted into Him. His life begins to flow through us. We become holy in His sight. Dead to sin and alive in Christ. 

In our language, to abide can mean both to “dwell/continue/remain” and also to “obey.” Fittingly: Abiding produces abiding. That from our remaining, obedience flows. 

So, remain in Him, in His word, in His presence, in His love, and in His people, and let the fruit come. Remembering this:

It’s not the rules that keep us close to Jesus—it’s rhythms of remaining.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about how we can mistake Bible reading and prayer as the fruit of spiritual maturity. But they’re not the fruit—they’re the means that lead us into the presence of Christ, where true spiritual fruit is actually formed.

And about how it’s entirely possible to practice Christianity outwardly while being completely disconnected from Christ inwardly.

Remember…the Pharisees were experts in Scripture and prayer, yet Jesus opposed them—not because the practices were wrong, but because they mistook the means for the end. 

Friend, don’t make the same mistake. Abiding in the Word and prayer are essential, but they are pathways, not proof. Not the fruit. Not the ends, but the means. 

The real evidence of closeness to Christ isn’t how often we do these things, but whether—through them—His life is being formed in us: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

So next time you reflect on how you’re “doing spiritually,” don’t measure it by your habits, but the fruit of the Spirit that should be flowing from them. 

And remember: whatever pulls you away from loving God—do less of it. Whatever stirs your love for Him—do more. This is how you remain.