Planted By Grace

“They are like trees planted by streams of water, which yield their fruit in its season.”
— Psalm 1:3

I think we can firmly say that no tree ever chooses its soil; no vine ever plants its own roots. They are all placed there, whether by a gardener’s hand, a bird scattering seeds, or a breeze that carries life into new spaces. The Book of Psalms opens its vast collection with a clear vision: fruitfulness springs from being planted rather than from restless motion.

Our culture celebrates motion. Turn on the news or social media and you will see an endless celebration of those who achieve expansions and produce large output. Yet the blessed life begins in stillness. It is not about doing more for God but receiving more from God. Grace precedes everything. Even faith, Wesley reminds us, is not the cause of grace but its channel, an open hand through which we receive what God freely gives. Faith doesn’t earn or grasp. In other words, our response to God is not production, but participation, trusting that every good thing begins with a divine initiative. To be planted by grace is to live as people whose very existence is a gift.

Theologian James Wilhoit says we must practice discipleship “as if the Church mattered.” That line has stayed with me. The Church, this living, breathing community, is not an afterthought; it is the soil where grace takes root and grows. Early Methodists understood this. Their class meetings and bands were spiritual gardens, places of confession, encouragement, prayer, and accountability. They learned that holiness blossoms best in shared soil.

At Hilldale, the five membership vows: prayers, presence, gifts, service, and witness name the movements of that grace-filled life. They are not checklists to complete but rhythms to inhabit. Prayer grounds us; presence anchors us; gifts stretch us; service opens us; witness bears fruit that others can taste. When we live these rhythms together, we discover that discipleship is less about striving upward and more about sinking our roots deeper into God’s love.

I wonder if that is the invitation of this season. A call to slow down long enough for our roots to catch up with our branches. Fruitfulness comes in its season, not ours. We don’t manufacture it; we cultivate the soil. The Spirit does the growing. So,where in your life do you sense God inviting you to stop striving and simply be planted?

Pastor Jeff