Slow Enough to Grow
Well, hush my mouth, friend, and look at you roamin’ on up on this ol’ front porch like a curious lil’ ol’ gopher that finally decided to quit hidin’ out behind the tool shed. Come on up here and mind that cantankerous ol’ peacock struttin’ around showin’ off its plumage like it’s fixin’ to win first place in the local beauty pageant. Now, pull up a chair for a lil’ ol’ spell because we’re about to chew on somethin’ mighty important: the slowdown. And not the kind that happens when your biscuit dough plum refuses to git to risin’ or your tractor coughs like it plum swallowed a big ol’ grasshopper. I’m talkin’ about the slowdown God Himself sets right smack in your path when He’s sho’-nuff’ growin’ somethin’ in you that can’t be rushed.
Galatians 5:22-23 tells us plain, “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self‑control.” Friend, that there fruit don’t grow in a hurry. You can’t microwave patience. You can’t pressure‑cook gentleness. And you sure can’t rush peace. God grows these things in us real slow and steady, the way a pecan tree grows strong limbs or a wise ol’ hoot owl learns to sit quiet in the pines.
But we downright live in a drive‑thru world. We plum want what we want, and we want it right now. We get all twisted up when traffic stalls or when life throws a detour at us. Yet Psalm 37:7 says, “Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him.” That there’s God puttin’ a holy stop sign right in front of us. Not to punish us. To grow us.
And Isaiah 30:15 says, “In quietness and trust shall be your strength.” Friend, that there means your strength ain’t found in rushin’ around like a lil’ ol’ squirrel that drank too much sweet tea. It’s plum found in slow trust. Quiet trust. Steady trust.
Those seasons when life gits to slowin’ down are often the seasons when God does His deepest work. He builds real endurance. He cultivates real patience. He strengthens real trust. He grows good fruit that can’t be rushed, no matter how much we stomp our feet or flap our arms like an irritated ol’ cranky rooster.
Father, thank You for every slowdown You place in my life. Help me trust Your timing, lean into Your peace, and let patience grow in me. Teach me to wait well and walk steady. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Well, my stars, friend, ain’t that somethin’ finer than a real cool mountain breeze driftin’ through a stand of whisperin’ oak trees. As you depart from here and git on back into your doin’s, let your patience plum git to settlin’ into your spirit the way a quiet mist settles over a sleepy holler at daybreak. Let your trust git to risin’ up gentle and sure, like a young sapling pushin’ through the forest floor toward the sunlight. Let your peace git to stretchin’ out across your day like a calm river glidin’ past mossy banks without hurry or fuss. And let your slow, steady walk with Jesus be leavin’ behind a soft trail of hope, the kind that makes folks wonder what good thing has just passed their way. Now go on, friend, and let God’s good slowdown git to shapin’ you into somethin’ mighty beautiful.
With joy,
Gwen
