As the year opens i found myself back in John 15.
I am the true Vine, and My Father is the Vinedresser.
Every branch of Mine that bears no fruit He takes away,
and every branch that does bear fruit He prunes,
that it may bear more fruit.
The more I sat with it, the more what Jesus says really lands when you imagine a real vineyard, over a real year. Soil and Seasons and a vinedresser who knows exactly what he’s doing – no matter what it looks like. Years ago I visited a vineyard and saw how this works and I’ve never been able to forget it.
Vines have seasons – so growth is not constant
Vines don’t grow all year round.
There’s a season where life seems to burst out with leaves and energy.
There are slower seasons – and the fruit starts to form almost unnoticed.
There are pruning times, bare branches – cut back severely.
Harvest comes – later.
Then winter arrives, again.
There are so many times when if you didn’t understand vineyards, you’d assume the plant (and the gardener) had failed.
But the vinedresser doesn’t panic. He’s working according to a plan, in the right place.
Pruning always looks worse before it looks better
If you’re in one of those bare and barren times of confusion, Jesus says, “Every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful.” (John 15:2)
Pruning often feels like loss when you’re living through it. Something that once felt stable or useful is gone. Growth you were proud to see – cut away. Progress and pruning don’t seem to go together.
But when the vinedresser cuts in winter, it’s because he’s preparing – thinking about grapes in autumn.
Then there’s the soil
On the visit they told me vineyards aren’t planted in soft, easy ground – for good reason.
If the soil is too rich, roots stay close to the ground – and vines grow wild. Lots of leaves and shoots – but the grapes suffer and become thin, watery. So growers choose sandy clay, chalk (champagne), gravel, rocky ground. Soil that drains. Soil that resists. Soil that slows everything down – just enough. Because the fruit needs ground that says, “If you want to live here, you’ll have to go deeper.” Tougher ground stops shallow growth and creates stability – when the heat comes later. So if this resonates right now remember:
You can be in hard ground – and still in the right place
So often we assume if things feel hard, slow, tough going – we must be off track or in the wrong place. But in vineyards, hard ground is often chosen on purpose. We want fast fruit. Easy growth. But what about when we hit rocks, when the clay won’t give way? Hold on, go deep, because together they often produce the best wine. The soil hasn’t failed the vine – it’s forming fruit.
Seasons don’t mean you’re going backwards – they give hope for the future
Spring looks exciting.
Summer feels demanding.
Autumn is happy work.
Winter feels empty.
Each season has its own look, its own tasks, its own pressures.
The soil stays the same through it all. Holding the roots, if we abide.
A cut-back season doesn’t say fruit isn’t coming. A tough season doesn’t mean you’re misplaced.
Fruit over foliage
The Lord says, “This is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit.” (John 15:8) Not foliage. Not constant activity. Not our usual markers of visible success. Fruit. Leaves look impressive, but fruit is the point of the vine.
That fruit comes when the ground is right and we remain long enough to let the seasons do their work.
Maybe the soil isn’t wrong after all
Some seasons feel terrible. Others feel slow. Some feel like more has been taken than added.
Been there!
Been there enough to know by now – maybe the question isn’t, “Why is this so hard?”
Instead ask, “What kind of fruit could this ground be preparing?”
As you let Jesus’ words steady you:
“Remain in me, as I also remain in you.” (John 15:4)
Wherever you are – what matters is this – be rooted in Him,
Tough soil doesn’t mean you’re in the wrong place.
Winter doesn’t mean the story is over. Hold onto this – the Father is the vinedresser, and he is at work – planning for fruit, still ahead.