Remain
Remain
📖 Key Scripture “Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine.” —John 15:4 (NIV)
To remain in Christ isn’t passive or soft. It is one of the most resilient, spiritual choices we can make—to stay connected when leaving would be easier. The world praises motion, reinvention, and reinvention again. But Jesus invites us to stay, not stuck—but steady. Not stagnant—but rooted. Remaining is a quiet kind of courage that says, I will not disconnect—even here, even now. Because fruit doesn’t grow from frantic movement. It grows from abiding connection.
The Vine That Held Me When I was in college—my first time around, long before my return as a working mom—I memorized John 15. I had no idea at the time how those words would become a kind of shelter I’d crawl under many years later, during some of the loneliest and most defining seasons of my life. The image of the vine and the branches became a spiritual anchor. I held onto it when I didn’t know what else to hold onto. I would whisper it to myself like a steady breath: Remain in Me and I will remain in you. I didn’t feel strong. I didn’t feel fruitful. But I stayed connected. And that was enough.
Trees and Testimony I grew up in East Texas, and I’ve always had a bit of a love affair with trees—though I’m allergic to most of them, which feels like a cosmic joke. Still, I’m mesmerized by them. Especially the tall oaks in Charleston where my son lives, with their arms stretched wide like they’re welcoming heaven itself. I haven’t yet seen the redwoods, but they’re at the top of my bucket list. As a little girl, I remember a field trip where we studied a pine tree that had been cut down. Our teacher pointed to the rings inside, showing how each one marked a year. That stuck with me. Those rings were proof the tree had remained—through every storm, every drought, every changing season. I think about that often when I read John 15. Remaining may not look impressive, but it forms something eternal.
Biblical Insight: What “Remain” Really Means Jesus spoke these words just before His arrest—on a quiet walk to the Garden of Gethsemane. His heart was full, and He wanted to leave His disciples with something lasting. In Greek, the word remain is menĹŤ (ÎĽÎνω). It means to abide, to dwell, to make your home. It’s not a weekend visit—it’s a full surrender of residency. Jesus isn’t asking us to show up occasionally. He’s asking us to live in Him. To ancient Jewish listeners, the vineyard wasn’t just a pretty picture. Israel had always been called God’s vineyard. But Jesus redefined everything by saying, I am the true Vine. The life, growth, and fruit you’ve longed for can’t be found in rules, rituals, or roles. It’s found in me. And here’s the miracle: He doesn’t just say remain in Me. He says, I will also remain in you. We’re not white-knuckling our way through obedience. We’re living in mutual relationship with the Savior of the world.
Learning to Stay In my single years, I sometimes wanted to disconnect from everything—including God. I was tired. I was doing it all—raising kids, building a business, working, going back to school. I was spread thin and running on fumes. I kept thinking: If I let go of even one thing, it will all fall apart. I will fall apart. Remaining felt like a luxury I didn’t have time for. But slowly, I began to see that staying with Jesus wasn’t another thing to do—it was the only thing that could sustain me. I stopped seeing “remaining” as a passive posture and began seeing it as the most active kind of faithfulness.
What Remaining Might Look Like in Your Life Remaining doesn’t mean hours of perfect quiet time or memorizing half the Bible (though those things can help). Sometimes it means: Saying “no” to one more distraction. Turning your attention toward Jesus during a five-minute break. Whispering, “I’m here, Lord,” even when you don’t feel Him. Staying with Jesus becomes the vine through which everything else is nourished. You don’t have to force fruit to appear. You just stay. And the life inside Him flows into you.
A Deeper Thought Have you ever watched ivy cling to a wall? It winds slowly, patiently, anchoring deeper with each inch. That’s what you’re doing, too. Not striving. Not racing. Just remaining. And even if you feel like nothing is happening—something is.
Spiritual Practice Open your Bible and read John 15:1–11 slowly. Read it out loud if you can. Then close your eyes and imagine the Vine wrapping gently around your life—your thoughts, your wounds, your desires, your schedule. Now picture your life bearing fruit not from striving, but from staying.
Recipe of the Day: Roasted Tomato Basil Soup with Grilled Cheese Croutons Warm, cozy, and surprisingly satisfying. Let this be a reminder that God’s best work often simmers in quiet places. Let Him nourish you today—body and soul.