Fruitful: Starting with Repentance

Word of the Year: Fruitful

I expected fruitfulness to look a lot more… fruitful.

At the beginning of the year, I imagined spiritual growth I could name and celebrate—like deeper joy, stronger rhythms, or renewed purpose. Something visible. Something solid. But now, months in, what I’ve noticed more than anything is discomfort. A sense that God is gently turning over the soil in places I thought were settled. A few old habits, a few heart-postures I’d quietly justified, are getting exposed under His careful hand.

It turns out, fruitfulness sometimes starts with repentance.

“Bear fruit in keeping with repentance…” (Luke 3:8)

John the Baptist said those words to a crowd who were eager to show spiritual hunger—but hesitant to let that hunger shape their lives. They were coming for baptism, for renewal, maybe even for belonging. But John cut to the core: “Don’t just show up—show change. Let your fruit match your turning.”

This isn’t about perfection or performance. It’s about alignment. About letting the inside match the outside.

Jesus echoed this in Matthew 7 when He said, “By their fruit you will recognize them.” Not their words, not their intentions, not their appearances. Their fruit. What comes out of their lives in real, tangible ways.

Psalm 51 gives us a glimpse of this kind of fruit. It’s David’s prayer of repentance, full of raw sorrow and desperate return. He says, “You do not delight in sacrifice… you desire a broken and contrite heart.” That brokenness isn’t shame. It’s softness. It’s readiness to be reshaped.

What if softening is fruit too?

I’m learning that not all fruit is visible. Not all fruit is celebratory. Some of it happens in the unseen spaces where pride dies quietly. Where self-protection loosens. Where old wounds come into the light.

Sometimes fruitfulness looks like staying present when we want to withdraw.
Sometimes it looks like finally telling the truth to God.
Sometimes it looks like not being right, or in control, or okay.

And if repentance is part of how God makes things grow—then maybe this softening, this discomfort, this return—isn’t a detour from fruitfulness. Maybe it’s the beginning of it.

Still Becoming

God has been patient with me this year. Not passive—patient. He doesn’t leave me as I am, but He never shames me into change. Instead, He keeps inviting me back. Back to prayer. Back to Scripture. Back to surrender.

And I’ve realized: if all I have to show for this year is a heart that’s becoming more honest, more open, more willing to change—then maybe that’s exactly the kind of fruit He’s after.

Repentance isn’t a failure of fruitfulness. It’s the kind of fruit we don’t always celebrate—but heaven does.

A Prayer

Lord,
If what You’re growing in me this season is humility, I receive it.
If the fruit You want to see is a heart that returns to You again and again, then let it be so.
Soften what’s grown hard. Uproot what needs to go.
And let Your grace keep shaping me into something fruitful—even when I can’t see it yet.
Amen.

Reflection Questions

• Where have I sensed conviction or correction this year?

• What has softened in me?

• Is there something God is asking me to turn from—or turn back toward?

• What kind of fruit might God be growing in me that isn’t visible yet?