Are all growths seen?

 

Which vegetables last longer – the ones grown above the ground or those that grow underground? The answer may seem simple, yet when looked at through the lens of faith, it becomes a profound spiritual metaphor. In our lives and ministries, we often measure fruitfulness by what can be seen, what is noticed, or what draws admiration. Some fruits are bright, showy, and quick to ripen, while others are hidden, slow to mature, and often overlooked. But which ones truly endure?

 

Take a walk through your kitchen or your local market. You’ll notice that vegetables and fruits like tomatoes, bananas, and berries—those with soft skins and appealing appearances—spoil quickly. Their vibrant colors and attractive looks might draw attention, but their shelf life is short. In contrast, the humble vegetables grown underground—potatoes, carrots, beets—bear no flashy exterior. They aren’t as visually appealing, but they last much longer. They’re built to endure, to survive beneath the soil, hidden from light, patiently storing strength for the season ahead.

 

There’s a lesson in this. Above-ground fruits have high water content and delicate skins, which make them vulnerable to spoilage. They are, in many ways, a symbol of the visible aspects of our faith—acts of service, public speaking, leadership roles, and social influence. These are valuable and needed, yet without the protective depth of character, they are prone to rot. Meanwhile, underground vegetables develop thicker skins and lower moisture. They grow slowly, deeply, and quietly. Their endurance speaks to a different kind of spiritual growth: the kind heated in prayer, tested in solitude, and proven in hidden obedience.

 

Scripture calls us to bear visible fruit. In Galatians 5:22–23, Paul lists the fruit of the Spirit—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. These are not optional qualities for a believer, but essential signs of a life transformed by Christ. Yet, we must not forget that fruit without root is fruit that perishes. Jesus Himself cautioned against mere appearances. In Matthew 21:19, He cursed a fig tree full of leaves but without fruit—a warning to those who perform outward religion while neglecting inward transformation.

 

True spiritual fruit must come from true spiritual depth.

 

In John 15, Jesus declares, “I am the vine, you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me, you can do nothing.” Abiding in Christ is not a public event. It is deeply personal, cultivated in the soil of intimacy with God. It requires time, silence, surrender, and perseverance. That kind of abiding rarely makes headlines or social media posts. But it is in those hidden places that the richest fruit is formed.

 

Sadly, in today’s culture—even within the church—we often mistake visibility for vitality. Young believers may be highly active in ministries, attending events, leading worship, participating in fellowships, and engaging in Christian communities. These are good and valuable expressions of faith. But if all of it exists without personal communion with God, without the quiet disciplines of Scripture, prayer, and holiness, then the fruit is like the tomato—beautiful but vulnerable, sweet yet short-lived.

 

The danger is subtle but serious. Without deep roots in Christ, even the most vibrant ministries can collapse under pressure. Without inward strength, public fruit will rot. Charisma without character, passion without patience, gifting without grounding—these do not last. A believer who looks less impressive outwardly might be far more rooted spiritually. Their faith might not draw attention, but it draws water from deep wells. Their growth is slow, even hidden, but it is real. And in due season, they bear lasting fruit.

 

This is why we must be careful not to judge spiritual growth merely by what is seen. Just as a farm cannot be judged only by what is above the soil, a life in Christ cannot be measured solely by visibility. Some of the most faithful Christians are those whose prayers are never heard by crowds, whose sacrifices are never known, whose obedience is seen only by God. Yet these are the ones storing treasure in heaven, producing fruit that will endure.

 

God often works in hidden ways. Consider the example of David. Before he was king, he was a shepherd, alone in the fields. His training was not on the stage but in solitude. Or Joseph, whose greatest spiritual formation took place in prison, not the palace. Or Jesus Himself, who spent thirty years in obscurity before beginning His three years of public ministry. Growth that lasts often happens in silence, in the dark, underground.

 

The apostle Paul says in Colossians 2:7, “Let your roots grow down into him, and let your lives be built on him. Then your faith will grow strong in the truth you were taught” (NLT). Rootedness precedes fruitfulness. And roots grow in hidden places.

 

So what does this mean for us today?

It means we must invest more in the unseen than the seen. We must prioritize private worship over public image, Scripture meditation over social recognition, and personal surrender over performance. It means that when our growth feels slow, our prayers dry, and our lives unnoticed, we are not failing—we may, in fact, be deepening. Like the potato in the soil, unseen and uncelebrated, yet storing up strength that will nourish others for a long time.

 

We should also be careful how we view others. Too often, we judge people by what they do in public, how visible they are in ministry, or how vocal they are in their convictions. But God sees the heart. Some people may not speak often, may not lead worship or preach sermons, yet carry a depth of faith that shakes heaven. We must resist the temptation to measure worth by visibility. Instead, we must honor the unseen fruit, the silent prayers, the hidden obedience.

 

Not all growth is seen. Not all fruit is flashy. And not all that glitters is gold.

 

The next time you go shopping, consider buying more potatoes than tomatoes. Their beauty may not catch your eye, but their endurance will nourish your home longer. In the same way, let us seek to be believers who endure—rooted in Christ, maturing in secret, bearing fruit that lasts.

 

Let us remember this: Spiritual fruit that grows deep, in quiet communion with God, often outlasts the flashy fruit that gains attention. Just as root vegetables endure, so do the spiritual fruits formed in the hidden places of our lives.