My Fruit

I went to the grocery store the other day and saw something I have watched for years. There is a gentleman who works in the produce section, steady and kind, always doing the quiet work most people do not stop to notice. He is constantly checking the fruit. He does not just glance at it and walk away. He turns it, lifts it, and gently works it with his hands, pressing here and there to make sure there are no soft places hidden beneath the skin.

Sometimes he has fruit in the little buggy he pushes around that looks perfectly fine to me. One day I asked him about it, because honestly, it looked good. He told me it was not. He said it had bad places in it, spots that would not last, spots that would spoil it. It amazed me that he could recognize what my eyes could not see.

That little moment stayed with me, because it made me think about the fruit of my own spirit. There are times I do things for church or for someone in my community, good things, helpful things, things that should be a beautiful reflection of Christ in me. From the outside it can look like service, like dedication, like love. But if I am honest, sometimes while I am doing it, my heart is not in a good place. I dread it. I am irritated. I feel pressured. I catch myself doing it out of obligation instead of joy, or out of people pleasing instead of love. And even though it may still look like good fruit from the outside, I can tell there are soft places inside me that are not healthy.

Jesus talks about fruit in Matthew, and it is not a surface level conversation. He connects fruit to what we truly are on the inside. “Likewise, every good tree bears good fruit, but a bad tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, and a bad tree cannot bear good fruit” (Matthew 7:17–18, NIV). That tells me something important. If I want good fruit, I cannot just focus on what people see. I have to pay attention to what is going on beneath the surface, the motives, the attitude, the hidden resentment, the exhaustion, the pride, the fear, the need for approval. Because sooner or later, what is underneath always affects what is offered.

So, I am learning that one of the healthiest spiritual practices I can have is simple but brave. Inspect my fruit regularly. Not to beat myself up, not to spiral into shame, but to tell the truth before God. I ask myself questions like these, and I ask the Lord to answer them honestly in me.

Am I doing this out of love, or out of pressure?

Am I doing this to bless someone, or am I doing this to prove something?

Am I serving with joy, or am I serving with resentment?

Am I trying to be seen, or trying to be faithful?

Is this drawing me closer to Jesus, or pulling me away from Him?

Because sometimes the fruit looks fine until it is pressed. And the Lord, in His kindness, will press gently, not to condemn me, but to reveal what needs healing.

And when I find a soft place, I do not have to hide it. I do not have to keep handing it out like it is healthy. I can bring it straight to Jesus. I can confess it plainly. “Lord, my attitude is off. My motives are mixed. I am not doing this with love.” And instead of letting that spoiled place spread, I can let Him deal with it right there. Sometimes that means repentance, letting God change my heart. Sometimes it means rest, because I am depleted and trying to pour from an empty place. Sometimes it means a boundary, learning to say no so my yes can be honest. Sometimes it means letting something go completely and trusting God with it, like tossing fruit into the compost and believing He can still redeem what I thought was waste.

I do not want to just look like I am bearing fruit. I want to be healthy from the inside out. I want the kind of life that, when pressed, still shows something solid because it is rooted in Christ. So today my prayer is simple. Lord, make me a good tree. Grow good fruit in me. Help me notice the soft places early. Give me the courage to let You remove what is going bad so You can produce something truly nourishing through my life.