Ephesians 4
Pastor Alex Hall | July 26th, 2026
The Fruit That Grows in the Dark
There is something deeply unsettling about holding a seed in your hand when what you desperately want is a tree.
We live in a world that celebrates the harvest. We share the photos of the finished product, the milestone, the breakthrough, the moment everything finally came together. But almost nobody talks about the long, quiet, uncertain stretch between the sowing and the reaping. Nobody talks about the nights when you look out over the field and see nothing. No sprouts. No signs of life. Just soil.
And yet, that is precisely where God does some of His most profound work.
What Is Growing Under the Ground
Galatians 5:22-23 describes the fruit of the Holy Spirit — love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Read those words slowly. Notice what they have in common. Not one of them is produced by striving. Not one of them is manufactured by willpower or self-improvement. The passage is clear: the Holy Spirit produces this fruit. It is His work, not ours.
That changes everything about how we understand the difficult seasons of life.
When you are walking through a strained relationship and it feels like nothing is improving, the Spirit may be cultivating patience beneath the surface. When you are showing up faithfully to something that seems to be producing no visible results, He may be growing faithfulness in the soil of your character. When the circumstances around you are chaotic and threatening, He may be establishing a root system of supernatural peace that no storm will be able to uproot.
The fruit is not always visible. But that does not mean it is not growing.
The Seed You Do Not Want
One of the hardest spiritual disciplines is learning to honor the seed when you want the harvest.
There is a temptation, when God places something small in your hands, to despise it. To look at the tiny, unremarkable thing He has given you and think, this cannot possibly be enough. We want the orange grove. We want the full-grown tree, the shade, the abundance. And God says, sow the seed.
The prophet Samuel experienced this when he went to anoint the next king of Israel, as described in 1 Samuel 16. He looked at the older brothers, the impressive ones, the ones who seemed like obvious candidates, and he was ready to call it done. But God redirected him every time. The one He had chosen was out in the field, overlooked, not even considered worth calling in for the occasion. And that forgotten young man became one of the greatest kings in Israel's history.
God has a long history of choosing the ones nobody else would choose and doing things nobody else thought possible. The seed that looks insignificant in your hand right now may carry a harvest that would stagger you if you could see it.
Do not throw it away. Sow it.
Getting Back Up Again
In Acts 14:19-20, there is a moment that is almost too extraordinary to process casually. Paul is stoned by a crowd, dragged outside the city, and left for dead. And then the text says, almost without ceremony, that he got up, went back into the town, and the next day continued on his journey.
That is not a natural response to that kind of suffering. That is the Holy Spirit.
Some of us are not facing physical stones, but the spiritual equivalent is real. Betrayal from people we trusted. Accusations that spread through relationships we valued. Rejection that cuts down to the bone. The enemy's strategy is not subtle. He wants you to stay down. He wants the weight of what has been thrown at you to convince you that getting back up is not worth it, that the damage is too extensive, that the road ahead is too uncertain.
But you are not dead yet. And the same Spirit that got Paul back on his feet is alive in you.
The Mending That Must Come First
Ephesians 4:11-12 describes the role of the church in equipping God's people. The word translated as "equipping" carries a meaning that is easy to miss. It was used in the first century for the mending of torn fishing nets — the careful, patient work of repairing something that has been ripped and damaged so that it can function as it was designed to.
Before we can be equipped for the work ahead, many of us need to be mended. The soul that has been torn by betrayal, by rejection, by years of accumulated wounds, needs repair before it can carry the weight of what God is calling it to carry.
This is not weakness. This is the process. The church is meant to be a place where that mending happens — where people who have been isolated and wounded find covenant community, where iron sharpens iron, where patience is extended and faults are covered in love, where nobody is left to heal alone.
Unity Is Worth Fighting For
Ephesians 4:3 calls believers to make every effort to keep themselves united in the Spirit, bound together by peace. The language is intentional. Unity does not maintain itself. It requires effort, intention, and a willingness to stay when leaving would be easier.
There is a spirit at work in our world that drives people toward isolation. It convinces the wounded that they are better off alone, that community will only bring more pain, that the safest move is to keep moving. But that is not the life we have been called to. We are adopted sons and daughters, not orphans. We belong to one another. We are called to run the race together, to sharpen one another, to make allowance for each other's faults, and to keep showing up even when the process is slow and the fruit is not yet visible.
The harvest is coming. Keep sowing. Keep standing. Keep showing up.
The Spirit is producing something in this season that you cannot yet see — and it is going to be worth every moment you chose not to quit.

