The fruit of the Spirit is a gift of God, and only He can produce it. They who bear it know as little about it as the tree knows of its fruit. They know only the power of Him on whom their life depends.
There are some citrus trees that have both full ripe fruit on them and blossoms at the same time. It is like that with us. In some areas we may be mature and developed and in other areas just a little bud. It is a lifelong thing. I will always be producing a crop and promising a crop at the same time.
What counts in your life and mine is not successes but fruits. The fruits of your life you might not see yourself. The fruits of your life are born often in your pain and in your vulnerability and in your losses. The fruits of your life come only after the plow has carved through your land. God wants you to be fruitful.
Never when in authority rebuke any one in anger, but only when anger has passed away; and so shall the rebuke bring forth good fruit.
The joy of seeing the fruit of the labor and salvations, resulting from the sharing of the gospel, outweighs the opposition that is often experienced.
One who commences prayer should imagine that for the delight of his Lord, he is starting to plant a garden in some very unfruitful soil, full of weeds. His Majesty must be asked to pull up the bad plants, and put good ones in their place. But we will suppose this is already done, when a soul has not only determined, but is resolved to make use of mental prayer. And now, by God’s help, we must endeavor, like good gardeners, to make these plants grow. We should take care to water them, so they will not wither, but bring forth flowers of such sweet fragrance as may please our Lord. Then He may take pleasure in often coming into this garden, and delighting Himself with our virtues.
The fruit of the Spirit is not push, drive, climb, grasp and trample…Life is more than a climb to the top of the heap.
All the fruits of the Spirit which we are to lay weight upon as evidential of grace, are summed up in charity, or Christian love; because this is the sum of all grace. And the only way, therefore, in which any can know their good estate, is by discerning the exercises of this divine charity in their hearts; for without charity, let men have what gifts you please, they are nothing.
In India, an ox with blindfolded eyes goes round an oil-press all the day long. When his eyes are unbandaged in the evening he finds that he has been going round and round in a circle and that although he has succeeded in producing some oil he has gone no further. Although the philosophers have been at it for hundreds of years, they have not reached their goal. Now and then, after much labour they have produced a little oil, which they have left behind them, but it is not sufficient to meet the sore need of mankind.