We’ve made our way through each fruit the Spirit grows in us—patience that waits, kindness that endures, peace that steadies, joy that resists despair. But now we arrive at the beginning and the end of it all:
Love.
Not the kind that depends on how we feel. Not the kind shaped by sentiment or season.
We’re talking about the fruit of divine love. The kind that chooses, costs, and remains.
“But the Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.”
—Galatians 5v22–23, NLT
Love isn’t one fruit among many—it’s the soil from which all the others grow.
As Christopher J. H. Wright puts it:
“Love is the defining mark of the Spirit-filled life. All the other fruits are simply ways in which love works itself out.”
That means kindness is love extended.
Patience is love waiting.
Joy is love celebrating.
Faithfulness is love staying.
Self-control? Love surrendered.
And all of this begins in the heart of God.
Not a Feeling, But a Force
When life is good, love can feel easy. But what about when you’re betrayed? Abandoned? Exhausted?
What about when the people you’ve poured into don’t pour back?
That’s when love becomes more than a feeling.
It becomes a force—a Spirit-grown power that chooses mercy over resentment, sacrifice over self, and presence over retreat.
“Let all that you do be done in love.”
—1 Corinthians 16v14, NLT
Kristin Elizabeth Couch writes:
“Love that lasts is always cruciform—it takes the shape of the cross. It’s costly. But it’s the only kind that changes anything.”
And this is the kind of love we’re called to. Not the kind that waits to feel moved, but the kind that moves even when we don’t feel anything at all.
Love in the Dark Soil
Sometimes the hardest place to love is right where you are.
Maybe it’s loving your family when the weight of history hangs heavy.
Maybe it’s loving your community when you've grown cynical.
Maybe it’s loving yourself, your story, your pace, your imperfections.
But love doesn’t wait for clean hearts and tidy timelines.
It takes root in the dark.
In our disappointments.
In our grief.
In our waiting.
“We love each other because he loved us first.”
—1 John 4v19, NLT
This is where Arminian theology gives us such a hopeful vision: that love isn’t forced or automatic. It’s a response.
A choice.
Empowered by grace, but never bypassing our will.
God invites us to choose love because He first chose us.
And by the power of His Spirit, we actually can.
Love That Endures the Hard Stuff
John Wesley once said:
“The love of God is shed abroad in our hearts, not merely that we may feel it, but that we may reflect it.”
This is where the deepest transformation happens—not just in knowing we’re loved, but in becoming people who love like Jesus does.
And that kind of love:
Forgives when it would be easier to walk away.
Listens when it would be easier to talk.
Stays soft when bitterness feels more justified.
Gives when no one sees or says thank you.
That’s not natural. It’s supernatural.
And it’s what the Spirit is growing in you—even now.
When You Feel Empty
You may feel like you don’t have much love to give right now.
Maybe fatigue, grief, or disappointment has numbed your capacity to care.
But this is the good news:
“God has given us his Spirit as proof that we live in him and he in us.”
—1 John 4v13, NLT
You don’t love others from your own well.
You love from the overflow of His.
The Spirit produces love not when you feel ready, but when you abide.
“Yes, I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit.”
—John 15v5, NLT
Even Here. Even Now. Even in the Dark.
If you’re in a season where it’s hard to love—
Hard to keep showing up.
Hard to keep forgiving.
Hard to keep believing the best—
Let this be your encouragement:
The fruit is still growing.
The Spirit hasn’t left.
You are not behind.
You are not failing.
He is forming in you the kind of love that stays.
That heals.
That endures.
Even here.
Even now.
Even in the dark.