It's not crazy that some people struggle to believe in Jesus. So much of your relationship with God is in the trusting. It's in the invisible work that God is doing all around us.
In Psalm 1, we immediately get a glimpse of the blessed man. There are things the blessed man does and things he doesn't (so we're clear, I'm not making a distinction between man and woman here; more mankind).
Apparently, the blessed man doesn't walk in the counsel of the wicked, stand in the way of sinners, or sit in the seat of scoffers. He does, however, delight in the law of the LORD. He meditates on that law day and night.
Pretty clear, right?
So why is that fruit takes so long to grow?
You'd think that if you plant it, water it and cultivate it, the fruit will come. I've heard pastors and leadership gurus talk about how healthy things grow. Is it possible that people that think they're planting good seeds actually aren't? Or is it possible that we're planting in the wrong season? Wrong soil?
Back to Psalm 1. The Psalmist writes that the blessed man is like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season.
In its season.
Those three words give me hope. When I make the decision to live a life beyond reproach, it doesn't always seem to yield fruit. When I decide to add a couple dollars to the tip because I believe God wants me to be more generous than normal, I don't see the fruit. When you hold fast to Scripture in your quiet times with God, sometimes, your day still goes awry.
And maybe I need to be thankful for what I have. Maybe the blessing is in having a few extra dollars to tip. Maybe the blessing is having a living room, coffee and a muffin to enjoy while I have my quiet time with God. Maybe the computer I'm typing this rant on, the health I enjoy, the very strength in my fingers to type this, the breath I have to give glory or steal it all speak to the blessings He has given me.
"He is like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither." - Psalm 1:3
You can't force fruit. But I'll keep using my lungs to praise God as long as He fills them with air. The fruit will come in its season.