The Importance of Abiding

Blog by Gem Fadling

The year 1990 was a momentous and tragic one for me. Sadly, it was the year my dad passed away. His death was traumatic and life-altering. I was just 26 years old.

Unfortunately, my dad’s death was only the beginning of a five-year season of loss. So much to experience by one so young.

I’d like to share the bullet point version of our losses:

• My dad was diagnosed with cancer and passed away.
• I suffered my second miscarriage in the midst of an infertility journey.
• When I finally got pregnant with our firstborn, I was put on bedrest due to severe complications.
• Alan was unexpectedly laid off from his position at a church.
• We lost our home to foreclosure due to the Northridge earthquake.
• My mother passed away from complications of heart surgery.

Condensing these losses to a bulleted list in no way minimizes them. Each carried its own weight and suffering, and it would be too much to unpack each one in this brief email. Suffice it to say, this was a very difficult season. To lose parents, unborn children, livelihood, and home all in a short span felt very Job-like.

All of this occurred between the ages of 26 to 31. At the time, I didn’t realize how young I was. I was simply living it. But now, looking back 30 years later, my heart goes out to that version of me. And I am thankful that my younger self found a way to persevere.

But God gave me a rich gift at the very beginning of 1990. Before my dad was diagnosed and we moved into the second half of that horrible year, God met me in one of the most powerful ways of my entire life.

In late 1989, Alan had met a group of men who were on a mission to turn leaders’ hearts toward Jesus. They wanted to ensure ministry leaders understood that abiding in Jesus is the center of ministry and that lasting fruit emerges only from our connection to the Vine. (Sound familiar?)

That was when I was introduced to John 15 for the first time. I may have read it before, but it didn’t click until Chuck Miller read and taught from it.

The only way I can describe it is that a light bulb (or maybe a searchlight) went off inside me. My world shifted and a paradigm for life emerged.

“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.” (John 15:5)

My soul has been humming this song since the day I heard it. “Apart from me you can do nothing.” Remain…remain…remain.

Ever since then, I’ve sought to orient my life around the teachings of Jesus. I’ve tried my best to follow the Jesus Way. Imperfectly, yes. Inconsistently, of course. But I have clung to these words for over 30 years.

Many years ago, as I was reflecting on those five years of loss, I realized that God gave me John 15, and profoundly met me in it, right before it all came crashing down. I’ve come to think of this gift as a pillow of sorts. A soft place to rest in the midst of yearly loss.

I know it would be easy to move to questioning:

• Why did God allow all that suffering?
• Why didn’t God fix anything?
• How could God let all that happen to someone so young?

And I have spent some time hovering around those questions (after the fact). But here’s the thing: it was an early lesson in what abiding really means.

• God is with me in all things.
• I am in God in all things.
• Christ is in me in all things.

We teach and preach this stuff, but it’s proven in the way we make our way through the circumstances of our lives.

Another important gift during that five-year season was that I sensed God’s presence through the community around us. People were constantly praying to keep us going in the midst of it all.

You’ve had your own seasons of trial and loss. You know what I mean.

Abiding (or remaining) in the Vine is one of the most central invitations we have as Christian leaders. Jesus said it: “Remain in me, as I also remain in you” (John 15:4).

This past summer Alan and I stayed at a monastery in Vina, California. In addition to praying around the clock, the monks there grow walnuts and grapes and create award-winning wine. I spent part of a morning walking among the grapevines, and I created a three-minute video describing the connection between the vine, the branches, and the fruit.

I invite you to CLICK HERE to watch the video. Take in the visual of the vine and the branch connecting…remaining. And take special note in the section on “thinning.”

Abiding doesn’t remove our problems. Abiding gives us a loving, solid place to stand, sit, or lie down in the midst of them.

Reflection 

• What does abiding/remaining look like for you these days?
• What do Jesus’ words “apart from me you can do nothing” mean to you?
• What visual from the video meant the most to you?