It Has Everything Except the Figs

We have what appears to be a perfectly healthy fig tree in our backyard. My late mother-in-law planted it many years ago, so it was already here when we moved into the farmhouse.

Every year, sometime in late summer, that tree starts calling my name. Not because I see figs hanging from the branches, but because I can smell them.

I’ll be walking through the backyard and catch that unmistakable sweet smell of figs. And every year, I fall for it. I walk over, start lifting branches and examining leaves, convinced that surely this is the year. I’m not even asking for much. One little fig would do. I’d be thrilled to find one! Nothing. Not one fig.

To be fair, about six years ago we cleared away a tremendous amount of weeds, bushes, and overgrowth that had surrounded it for years. I’m sure that was quite a shock to its little ecosystem, and I gave it plenty of grace for a while. But six years later? Come on, fig tree. Give me something!

What puzzles me most is that it looks healthy. Its branches are covered in beautiful green leaves. And somehow, every year, it even smells like it should be loaded with fruit. It has all the signs of a productive fig tree…except the figs.

The other day, as I stood there searching those branches once again, I started thinking about how easy it can be for us to do something similar in our spiritual lives.

We can look the part. We can go to church, know the right words, share an encouraging Bible verse, listen to Christian music, and surround ourselves with all the things that make a life look fruitful. We might even “smell like figs.”

But Jesus talked a lot about fruit, and He wasn’t talking about appearances. The fruit of a life being changed by God shows up in how we love people. It shows up in patience when we’d rather snap back, kindness when no one is watching, forgiveness when it’s difficult, generosity when there’s nothing in it for us, and ​peace when circumstances​ give us every reason not to have it.

Those things grow from the inside out. And just like I keep inspecting that fig tree, sometimes it’s worth taking a look at our own branches. Am I simply surrounded by the things of God, or is my relationship with Him actually producing something in me? That question might step on our toes a little.

Maybe that old fig tree isn’t completely useless after all. It may not have given me a single fig, but standing and looking at it that afternoon, it gave me something else—a reminder that God isn’t looking for the appearance of fruitfulness. He wants to grow the real thing in us. And unlike my stubborn fig tree, I want there to be something on my branches when He comes looking.

“The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.” —Galatians 5:22–23

September 25, 2026 Morning Brew