Lately, I’ve been sitting with the word flourish. Not in the cute, decorative sense. Not in the way it shows up on a journal cover or a wall decal. But in a deeper, spiritual kind of way. What does it really mean to flourish in the eyes of God?
The world has its own definition. I’ve fallen into it before equating flourishing with doing more, achieving more, being seen more. I’ve chased the degrees, the titles, the perfectly curated plans. And while those things had their place, they never filled me the way I thought they would. It wasn’t long before I realized I wasn’t flourishing. I was just busy. And honestly? Tired.
The more I read Scripture, the more I saw that God’s version of flourishing looks nothing like the world’s. Psalm 92:12–14 paints a completely different picture: “The righteous will flourish like a palm tree, they will grow like a cedar of Lebanon; planted in the house of the Lord, they will flourish in the courts of our God. They will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh and green.”
There’s no mention of applause or accolades. No hint that flourishing is tied to popularity or performance. It’s about being planted. Rooted in God’s presence. Growing slow, steady, and strong over time. It’s the kind of fruitfulness that lasts, not just in your prime, but even in your ‘seasoned’ years. The flourishing God offers isn’t flashy, it’s faithful.
Then there’s John 15, where Jesus says, “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.” There have been times when I’ve tried to flourish apart from the vine or make things happen in my own strength, or even force fruit without staying connected to God. Every single time, it left me spiritually dry. Producing, but not abiding.
After meditating on these verses, it hit me. Flourishing is about depth.
We live in a culture that celebrates being seen, but the most powerful growth often happens underground.
In the dark.
Where no one claps.
Where no one notices. And yet, it’s the depth of your roots that determines the health of your fruit.
Flourishing might look like quiet obedience. Showing up in seasons of waiting. Staying faithful when no one’s watching. Healing behind the scenes. Saying no to what looks good so you can say yes to what is of God.
I wonder how many of us have settled for survival when God is inviting us to grow? How many of us are doing just enough to keep going, but not enough to actually thrive?
I’ve been there. Just trying to make it. Saying, “Lord, I’m fine,” when in reality I was running on empty. But the invitation to flourish is still there. It’s not about pretending to hold it all together. It’s about staying. Staying connected. Staying planted. Staying surrendered.
So if you’ve been measuring your flourishing by the metrics of success or spotlight, pause for a moment. Ask yourself: Am I rooted?Am I remaining in Him?Have I confused survival for fruitfulness?
Flourishing isn’t about doing more. It’s about going deeper.
And the good news is God is the Master Gardener. He knows exactly what to prune, what to water, and what to plant. You don’t have to figure it all out. You just have to stay connected. The fruit will come. The growth will happen. In season. In time.
So today, I’m choosing to redefine what it means to flourish. Not by how visible my life looks, but by how deeply rooted I am in Him.
Emotions are not a design flaw. They are part of God’s good creation. They are not sinful in themselves, even when they feel intense or inconvenient. Jesus, fully God and fully man, felt the full range. Luke tells us He rejoiced in the Holy Spirit with joy that overflowed. John records the shortest verse in Scripture, “Jesus wept” (John 11:35), reminding us that sorrow has a place in holy ground. Mark shows us His righteous anger as He looked around at hardened hearts with grief mixed in (Mark 3:5). Matthew lets us overhear His deep distress in Gethsemane when He said, “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death” (Matthew 26:38). Over and over again, we see compassion move Him toward people, not away from them. If Jesus felt emotions without sinning, we need to stop labeling emotions themselves as the problem.
To be unhindered is not to have a flawless plan or a perfectly curated life. It is to clear away the distractions that keep us from being faithful right where we are. It is to remember that our identity is in Christ, not in comparison, not in productivity, not in striving. And because God is our source, we are not dependent on systems that exhaust us. We lean into the Holy Spirit who sustains us. Steward It Well
And as we sit here in 2026, I think many of us aren’t tangled up in obvious sin and rebellion. We’re actually exhausted by accumulation. Expectations. Distractions. Comparisons. The pressure to do more and be more, even when God hasn’t asked us to.
That’s why the Word of the Year, Unhindered, is so timely and fitting.
We’ve got to get more honest about what we’re carrying. We often assume that spiritual growth and maturity are tied to adding more and increase, but here in Hebrews, we see the opposite. We see release. Casting things off. Laying things aside. Surrender.
It’s an invitation to reflection. What has slowly attached itself to us? What fills our days and dulls our discernment? What keeps us busy, but lacking real fruit?
To wait well is to lean in when we want to pull back. It’s to light our lamps with trust and faithfulness. It’s to keep our hearts open, our hands obedient, and our eyes on the horizon.
So if you’re in a waiting season right now, whether it’s for healing, direction, provision, or just a sense of peace, take heart.
