Tag: Psalm 27:9

Connected to the Source

Posted in @jimmiekepler, Ancient Wisdom for Today, Bible, Blog, Christian Living, Christian Writers, Jim Kepler, Jimmie A. Kepler, Jimmie Aaron Kepler, Jimmie Kepler, jimmiekepler.com, Poet, Poet's Life, Poets, Writer's Life, WritingLeave a comment

Abiding in Christ When Life Leaves Us Tired and Empty

Have you ever cut a flower from the garden and placed it in a vase?

For a while, it still looks beautiful. Its color remains bright. Its petals are open. But no matter how much sunlight you give it or how carefully you arrange it, the flower has been separated from its source of life. Before long, it begins to wilt.

Jesus used a similar picture when He spoke about our relationship with Him.

“I am the vine, ye are the branches
He that abideth in me, and I in him
the same bringeth forth much fruit
for without me ye can do nothing.”
John 15:5 KJV

Jesus is the Vine. We are the branches.

It sounds simple, but there is a profound truth here: we were never intended to live the Christian life disconnected from Christ.

Stop Striving and Start Abiding

We live in a world that celebrates activity.

Work harder.
Do more.
Accomplish more.
Push through.
Keep going.

Before long, we can begin treating our spiritual lives the same way. We try harder to be patient. We work harder at being loving. We promise ourselves we will worry less, forgive more, pray longer, and somehow become better Christians through sheer determination.

But a branch does not strain to produce fruit.

It simply remains connected to the vine.

The vine supplies what the branch cannot manufacture for itself.

Jesus invites us to live the same way.

To abide means to remain, stay, dwell, and continue. We abide in Christ when we spend time in His Word, talk with Him in prayer, trust His promises, obey His leading, and remain conscious of His presence throughout the ordinary moments of our day.

Spiritual maturity is not primarily about trying harder.

It is about staying closer.

When We Try to Be the Vine

Sometimes exhaustion is more than physical tiredness. It can be the result of trying to carry responsibilities God never intended us to carry alone.

We try to control circumstances.

We try to fix people.

We worry about tomorrow.

We replay yesterday.

We carry burdens that belong in God’s hands.

Eventually, we become spiritually dry because we have been attempting to live as though everything depends upon us.

Jesus reminds us, “without me ye can do nothing.”

That does not mean we cannot accomplish anything in life. People accomplish remarkable things without acknowledging God. But the lasting spiritual fruit Jesus describes—love, joy, peace, patience, grace, faithfulness, and eternal influence—comes from His life flowing through ours.

The branch bears fruit because it remains connected to the Vine.

Stay Connected Today

Maybe you are facing something today that feels bigger than you.

Perhaps you are tired.

Perhaps you have been carrying a burden so long that you have forgotten what it feels like to put it down.

You do not have to manufacture enough strength for everything ahead of you.

Return to the Vine.

Spend a few quiet moments with Jesus. Open His Word. Tell Him what is weighing on your heart. Release what you cannot control. Ask Him for the strength you do not have.

Then remain.

You do not have to produce the fruit.

Your responsibility is to stay connected to the One who does.

Three Takeaways

  1. Connection comes before fruitfulness. Spiritual strength grows from abiding in Christ, not from depending entirely upon ourselves.
  2. Striving cannot replace abiding. When we become overwhelmed, it may be time to stop trying to control everything and return our attention to Jesus.
  3. Christ supplies what we lack. His strength, peace, wisdom, and grace are available to us as we remain close to Him.

Reflection for Today

What part of your life are you trying to manage entirely in your own strength?

Give it to Jesus today.

Stop trying to be the vine.

Be the branch.

Stay connected, and trust Him with the fruit.

A Closing Prayer for Abiding in the Vine

Heavenly Father,

Thank You for reminding me that I do not have to carry the weight of this day in my own strength. Forgive me for the times I have tried to become my own source, running on empty while attempting to control circumstances that belong in Your hands.

Jesus, You are the Vine, and I am the branch. Today I choose to remain in You. Help me stop striving and start trusting. Let Your love, peace, patience, wisdom, and grace flow through my life.

When I become overwhelmed, worried, or spiritually dry, turn my heart back toward You. Remind me that I do not have to manufacture the fruit. I simply need to remain connected to the Source.

Thank You that apart from You I can do nothing, but abiding in You gives me everything I need for today.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

The Rhythm of Grace

Posted in @jimmiekepler, Ancient Wisdom for Today, Bible, Blog, Christian Living, Christian Writers, Jim Kepler, Jimmie A. Kepler, Jimmie Aaron Kepler, Jimmie Kepler, jimmiekepler.com, Poet, Poet's Life, Poets, Writer's Life, WritingLeave a comment

The Rhythm of Grace

The auction started at nine, but folks were parked along the fence line by seven thirty. An old man everyone called Bear had passed during this hot summer and his kids had decided to sell off the place piece by piece. The tractor went first. Then the anvil his daddy had hauled up from Waco in a wagon. Then a box of hand tools worn smooth in the handle from sixty years of gripping.

I stood near the back, hat pushed low against the sun, and watched a stranger walk off with a claw hammer that had built half the fences in that county. Nobody said much. There is a kind of quiet that settles over an auction like that, the quiet of people watching a life get folded up and carried away in the beds of pickup trucks.

An old rancher next to me spat in the dirt and said, “Everything’s got its season, son. You hold what you’re given, and then one day you don’t.”

I thought about that the whole drive home.

In Plain English

Ecclesiastes puts it plainer than most of us can stand to hear. “A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away.” 

That verse does not ask our permission. It just tells us the truth of how living works. We are handed things, for a while, and then the hand opens again.

There is a season for getting and keeping. A friendship starts. A door swings open you did not knock on. A prayer gets answered in a way you were not expecting. Those seasons deserve to be held onto with both hands, and remembered even after they pass, because the memory of what God has already done has a way of carrying a man through what is still coming.

But there is another season, and it is the one nobody wants a sermon about. The season of losing. The season of casting away. We are not built for letting go. We would rather grip something long past its time than open our hand and trust that the emptiness means something.

I have carried things too long myself. A grudge that outlived the man who caused it. A regret that kept replaying a conversation that could not be changed no matter how many times I ran it back. Weight like that does not protect you. It just tires you out.

Letting go does not mean it did not matter. It means you finally trust God enough to set it down in front of Him instead of carrying it into tomorrow.

Ecclesiastes says God makes everything beautiful in His time. Not our time. His. That is the hard part and the mercy of it both. We want the explanation before we hand it over.

Faith runs the other direction. You hand it over first, and the understanding, if it comes at all, comes later, usually quieter than you expected.

A field has to be cleared before it can be planted again. A tree lets its leaves fall before anything new can grow. The dark comes before the next morning, every time, and nobody has ever stopped it by staying up all night arguing with the sky.

Maybe that is where you are standing right now. Between an auction of your own and whatever comes after it. Not sure whether you are supposed to hold on or let go. That not knowing is not a failure of your faith. It is just the shape faith takes in the middle of a season that has not finished turning yet.

You do not have to see the whole plan. You only have to trust the One who already does.

Scripture

“A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away.” Ecclesiastes 3:6 (KJV)

A Prayer

Heavenly Father,

Thank You for walking with me through every season, the ones I asked for and the ones I did not.

Give me the wisdom to know when to hold on and when to let go. Help me cherish what You have placed in my hands without gripping it so tight that I miss what You are doing next. When something ends, give me the courage to release it without bitterness.

Take the regrets and the old hurts I have carried longer than I should have. Teach me to trust that Your plans reach further down the road than my eyes can see.

When one season closes and the next has not yet opened, remind me that You are still at work in the space between.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

Written by Jimmie Aaron Kepler, Ed.D. Shared under a Creative Commons Attribution (CC BY) license. You are welcome to share or adapt it provided proper credit is given to the author.

A Sweet Refreshing Wind

Posted in @jimmiekepler, Ancient Wisdom for Today, Bible, Blog, Christian Living, Christian Writers, Jim Kepler, Jimmie A. Kepler, Jimmie Aaron Kepler, Jimmie Kepler, jimmiekepler.com, Poet, Poet's Life, Poets, Writer's Life, WritingLeave a comment

A Sweet Refreshing Wind

There is a kind of friend who does not need to say much. He walks in, sits down, and the room settles like dust after a truck passes on a dirt road. You did not know you were carrying a weight until he took some of it off your shoulders just by being there.

I have known a few friends like that. Men and women who showed up on the hard days without being asked. Who sat across a table and let the silence do its work before either of us said a word. There is a kind of mercy in that. A kind of grace that does not announce itself.

Proverbs speaks of this. It says that perfume and incense bring joy to the heart, and the sweetness of a friend comes from honest counsel given straight from the heart. In the old world, a man did not have candles or soft music to change the feel of a room. He had oil and incense, and when they were lit, the whole place shifted. The air got lighter. The walls seemed to breathe.

A true friend does that to a life. They walk in tired and worn down, and somehow the room feels different when they leave. Not because they fixed anything. Because they cared enough to stay a while.

Jesus understood this better than any of us. He did not call His followers servants. He called them friends. He sat with them at supper tables, walked with them on dusty roads, and carried their doubts alongside His own burden. He showed us that love does not keep score. It shows up. It listens. It stays.

If you have a friend like that, someone who has been perfume and incense to your weary heart, take a minute today and thank God for them. And then ask yourself a harder question. Are you being that kind of friend to somebody else. Somebody out there is carrying more than they can hold, and they might just need you to sit down across from them and let the silence do its work.

Scripture

“Ointment and perfume rejoice the heart: so doth the sweetness of a man’s friend by hearty counsel.” Proverbs 27:9

Prayer

Dear Heavenly Father,

Thank You for the gift of friendship. Thank You for placing people in my life who bring comfort, laughter, and wise counsel when my soul feels weary. Lord, help me to be a better friend. Teach me how to listen with patience, speak with kindness, and love with Your unconditional grace. Bless my friends today, protect them, and let our connections bring glory to Your name.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

Written by Jimmie Aaron Kepler, Ed.D. Shared under a Creative Commons Attribution (CC BY) license. You are welcome to share or adapt it provided proper credit is given to the author.