I’ve been sitting with the word flourish for a few weeks now (our monthly words are chosen in advance), and the longer I sit with it, the more it has challenged me.

When I first pondered it, my mind went straight to a very specific picture: life moving forward, joy and peace showing up regularly, things feeling reasonably in order. (I’m a planner who thrives on motion, so yes, I want the good season!) Flourishing, in my mind, looked a lot like everything cooperating.

But the more I sit with it, the more I sense God is pointing me somewhere a little less tidy.

A few mornings ago, I was out running with a friend on a trail near our neighborhood. I pointed to a row of trees lining the path and asked her, only half-joking, if she thought they were all dead. From where we were running and as we approached, they looked completely bare — no leaves, no color, nothing. She paused right along with me, because honestly, they looked pretty bad.

But as we got closer, I noticed something small. The tiniest buds, barely visible, just beginning to push through. You would have missed them if you weren’t paying close attention.

I almost did.

And right there on the trail, I was a witness to a new idea. This is what flourishing actually looks like sometimes. Not obvious. Not dramatic. Not the full picture with everything falling into place at once. Just small, stubborn signs of life that refuse to quit, even when the season isn’t warm yet.

Scripture paints this same picture: “Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord… They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green” (Jeremiah 17:7–8).

What I keep coming back to is the phrase it does not fear when heat comes. Not “when the conditions are perfect.” Not “when the heat passes.” When the heat comes. The difficulty is assumed, and the hard season is baked right in.

That shifts things, doesn’t it? Flourishing in God’s design isn’t about avoiding the hard seasons (as good as that sounds). It’s about being rooted deeply enough to be sustained through them. And it’s not about perfect balance or everything lining up just right, but about deep, unseen roots growing beneath the surface.

Which brings me to the question actually worth asking: Instead of “Why don’t I feel like I am flourishing?” (or otherwise stated, “Why isn’t my life working the way I want it to?”), consider instead “What am I actually rooted in during this season?”

For me, that question leads me back to something I’ll be honest doesn’t come all that naturally to me: receiving God’s love. I shared this openly in a Bible study recently. I know God loves me. I can say it with confidence. But do I feel it? That part is harder. It can feel abstract, even a little uncomfortable. (Has anyone else been there? I can’t be alone in this!) Do I actually slow down long enough to let it settle in?

Here’s what I’m learning as I reflect on this with others: I receive His love more than I realize. I receive it when I remember. When I look back and see His faithfulness woven through the hard chapters and the good. I receive it through the people He places around me for love and encouragement, and I receive it in His Word, on mornings when something I read feels less like a coincidence and more like a note written just for me.

“I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness” (Jeremiah 31:3). Not conditional. Not earned. Just everlasting. That everlasting love becomes the soil, and as Jesus reminded us, “If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit” (John 15:5). Flourishing is something that happens when we stay close to the One who is our source. 

And some of the richest flourishing doesn’t happen in the easy seasons. It happens in the hard ones.

Have you ever noticed how trees don’t develop strong roots without wind? They don’t reach deeper without dry seasons? The resistance is part of the process. “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance” (James 1:2–3).

There is a flourishing that happens when you walk faithfully through something hard. It doesn’t feel like flourishing from the inside. Sometimes it feels like barely holding on, choosing to trust when you don’t have answers yet, or finding one small reason to be grateful on the days when grumpiness would be so much easier.

If I hadn’t slowed down on that trail, I would have written off a whole row of living trees as dead. I would have missed the whole story. How often do we do that with our own lives? We see bare branches and convince ourselves we’re stuck, behind, or that God is silent. But what if what looks like stillness is actually roots going deeper? What if what feels like nothing is actually preparation?

“The righteous will flourish like a palm tree… planted in the house of the Lord, they will flourish in the courts of our God” (Psalm 92:12–13). Not because life is easy. Because they are planted.

So if you’re in a season that doesn’t look like flourishing right now, here are three things I’m holding onto, and I hope they encourage you too:

Stay close, even when things feel bare. Flourishing begins with staying connected to God in the ordinary, quiet moments, not just the inspired ones. Read His Word. Show up, even when you don’t feel like it. (John 15:5)

Receive His love, not just His truth. There is a difference between knowing God loves you and letting that love actually settle into your heart. Look for and/or remember the ways He shows up…in a timely conversation, a scripture that hits just right, or even in a moment of unexpected peace. Let those moments count. Remember, “I have loved you with an everlasting love” (Jeremiah 31:3).

Let the hard season do its work. Don’t rush yourself out of what God might be growing in you. Perseverance is a good thing. Some of the strongest roots can form in seasons that feel the least productive.

You might not be as far off as you think. You might just be in the kind of growing that takes a little longer to see. And be encouraged! That’s a GOOD thing! 

Lord, thank You that flourishing in Your design is not about having the perfect season, it’s about where we are planted and what we do within the space You have us. Help us to receive Your love, remember Your faithfulness, and stay rooted in You, especially when things feel bare and the waiting feels long. May we slow down enough to notice the small signs of life You are always growing around us and in us. In Jesus’ name I pray, Amen.