Spirit-Grown Love

When I was a kid, teachers often used this typical icebreaker at the beginning of the school year to help us get to know one another. We’d go around the room, share our name and then name a fruit that started with the same letter.

Mine was easy. Stephanie. Strawberry. As luck would have it, strawberries were already my favorite fruit. Win-win in my book!

There is something irresistible about a perfectly ripened strawberry, especially one picked fresh from the vine and eaten on the spot. Its sweetness can’t be hidden (and neither can the juice stains your lips and fingers are left with, giving away your secret indulgence every time). Whenever we take our kids strawberry picking, I have to limit the “taste tests” or they come home wearing evidence of their afternoon snack.

A strawberry at the peak of its season is hard to beat.

But an out-of-season strawberry? That’s a completely different story.

Even if an angel lush cake is begging for fresh berries, I refuse to buy strawberries when they’re not in season. They may look enticing on the outside, but one bite reveals the tart truth. Instead of being a fruit I love, they become a fruit I want to throw out the window.

But in reflecting on it, the difference isn’t the fruit itself. It’s whether the fruit was ready. Whether it was ripe. Whether it was given the opportunity to grow in its own season rather than being picked early so someone, somewhere, could enjoy it on their timetable.

The best strawberries are the ones God deems ready for the picking. They are the ones that, when your hand reaches for the vine, don’t need to be tugged free. They simply fall into your hand.

The same is true of love. Let me explain.

When I was fifteen, I decided to become a vegetarian. This was nearly thirty years ago, long before vegetarianism was trendy or grocery stores stocked plant-based options. I had no idea what I was doing. I simply knew I didn’t like meat.

So I did what any clueless teenager would do: I filled up on carbs and called it a day. The internet wasn’t around to help me figure out balanced nutrition, and I certainly wasn’t searching for protein-rich alternatives. If I’m being honest, I don’t know that I had ever willingly eaten a bean. But things changed when I became pregnant.

I learned to eat beans. I learned to eat leafy greens. I learned to embrace foods I had spent years not interested in. Not because I suddenly craved them, but because love motivated me to do what I otherwise wouldn’t have chosen for myself. And then something surprising happened. Over time, I began to enjoy them. What started as a sacrifice became a delight. Love changed my tastes. It changed me.

That’s what love does.

Real love doesn’t simply change our actions; it transforms our desires. It grows us into people who willingly choose things we once resisted. It softens us. Shapes us. Matures us. Much like a strawberry ripening on the vine, love develops over time with the Spirit’s help along the way until one day we realize we’ve become something sweeter than we were before.

Now, my fondness for strawberries and even my acquired love of beans is by no means a comparison to the love Jesus teaches us in Scripture. 

The love Jesus speaks of is agape—a self-giving, self-sacrificing love that seeks the good of another. It’s the kind of love He taught freely and demonstrated perfectly on the cross. Unlike our culture’s tendency to define love as a feeling, agape is a choice. It is steadfast. Intentional. Costly. It is a love that acts even when it is inconvenient and gives even when there is nothing to gain in return. And yet, it is this very kind of love that sits at the top of the list in the core Scripture passage upon which my upcoming art show, Spirit-Grown, is built:

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.

Galatians 5:22-23

There’s a reason love is the first fruit mentioned, and I believe it’s because it is foundational to all the others. When Jesus was asked which commandment was the greatest, He answered by saying that we are to love God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength and to love our neighbors as ourselves. Later, during the Last Supper, He gave His disciples a new command: “Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another” (John 13:34).

Love wasn’t merely one virtue among many. It was to be the defining mark of His followers—those who sat in the room with Him, walked dusty roads beside Him, and witnessed His sacrifice firsthand, as well as those of us today who have accepted Him as Savior and invited the Holy Spirit to cultivate our hearts.

As I’ve studied Scripture in preparation for the upcoming Spirit-Grown art show and the paintings that are emerging from it, I’ve uncovered a theme I don’t want any of us to miss. We live in a world obsessed with fruit production. How much money can you make? How many clients can you land? How many followers can you gain? How many trophies can you win? Our culture celebrates what we can produce. But love, as a fruit of the Spirit, isn’t something we manufacture. It isn’t something we grit our teeth and force into existence. It grows when we surrender ourselves to the Spirit and allow Him to do His work within us.

That truth should take some pressure off. And if we’re honest, it may also be a hard pill to swallow. Because most of us would rather produce results than submit to a process.

Let’s go back to my silly little example of learning to love beans for my children’s sake.

My love for strawberries came naturally. My appreciation for beans had to be cultivated. Strawberries were easy to delight in. Beans were an acquired taste that took years to develop. Yet it was agape love for my children that taught me to embrace something I never would have chosen on my own. What began as sacrifice eventually became delight.

That’s one of the fascinating things about the love Jesus calls us to. It often leads us to places we would never naturally go and invites us to love in ways that don’t come naturally.

• It’s the love that chooses forgiveness when someone has wounded you deeply. The hurt is real. The emotions are complicated. The healing may take time. Yet you remain willing to move toward freedom rather than allowing bitterness to take root. 
• It’s the love that slows down long enough to notice the exhausted cashier, the lonely neighbor, the overwhelmed parent, the grieving friend. It’s the love that nudges you to become the hands and feet of Jesus through a simple act of kindness.
• It’s the love that listens before speaking. Serves without recognition. Gives without keeping score. Extends grace when judgment would be easier. 
• It’s the love that sits beside someone in their pain rather than rushing to fix it.

It’s the love that reflects the heart of Christ.

And over time, what once felt difficult becomes familiar. What once felt costly becomes meaningful. What once felt impossible becomes evidence that the Spirit has been at work within us all along. What begins as sacrifice can, through the work of the Spirit, become delight.

Let me pray for you today, as you prepare for some juicy summer strawberries and some opportunities to see love become a fruit of the Spirit’s work within you.

Heavenly Father, thank you for being the full embodied definition of love. As we learn about You in Scripture we uncover how You love us beyond measure and more than any one of us deserve. You are the loving parent that challenges us, disciplines us and always welcomes us home with open arms. You are the loving teacher that uses all situations for our good. You are the loving friend who listens to our worries and wipes our tears. You are the loving Shepherd who loves us so much that You leave the ninety-nine for our measly one. God, thank You for loving us despite us. And thank You for giving us the Spirit so that we, too, can be an extension of Your love to all we meet. We love You, truly. Amen.

Reflection Question

Does my love resemble a fully ripened strawberry—or something picked too early, still tart and underdeveloped? Am I trying to manufacture love in my own strength, or am I allowing the Spirit to grow it within me over time?

Journal Prompt

When have you witnessed agape love in action? Write about a moment when you either observed or personally experienced Spirit-grown love through someone else. What did it reveal to you about God’s heart?

Action Opportunity

Ask Jesus to guide you to someone today who could be encouraged or impacted by a simple act of kindness. This might look like writing an encouraging note to a coworker, sending a meaningful text to someone who’s been on your heart, pausing long enough to notice someone you might normally overlook, or offering presence where it’s needed. Let the Holy Spirit lead your steps—and trust that He is actively growing fruit within you as you go.