Abiding Is Not Passive

Choosing Presence Over Productivity

Let’s start with an honest admission: I’m a recovering doer.  I like to get things done. I like checking boxes. Honestly, I’ve been known to make a list just so I could check things off.  I love the feeling of being productive, of making things happen. And for a long time, I thought it was a strength of mine.  

But over time, the Lord began to nudge my heart. Something just felt off. I knew how to do a lot for Jesus, but I didn’t always know how to actually be with Him.  I used to think, “If I can just get these things done first, then my mind will be clear to spend time with Jesus.”  But I had it all backwards. I came to realize that abiding doesn’t come after everything else gets done. It must come first.

I came to realize that abiding doesn’t come after everything else gets done. It must come first.

I keep coming back to Luke 10:38-42.  I’ve always resonated with Martha. Everything she was carrying felt important.  Necessary, even. It wasn’t just the tasks… but the weight of it all.  And if I’m honest, I see myself in that. 

Mary is sitting at Jesus’ feet, and I know that’s where I want to be.  I don’t want to live distracted. And Jesus doesn’t want that for me either. I’ve had to learn to slow down. To sit. To stay. To abide. This shift, from doing to abiding, changed how I saw everything, especially the difference between output and fruit. 

Output and fruit aren’t the same thing.  Output is activity, results, productivity. It’s the stuff I can measure, track, or point to. Fruit looks like love, joy, peace. It’s transformation inside of me, not something that I can produce on the outside. I can build a life full of output and still be lacking the very thing Jesus wants from me.  

That tension is exactly why John 15 matters so much to me. It confronts the very struggle I wrestled with. Jesus doesn’t say, “work harder.”  He doesn’t say, “Do more” or “Be more productive.”  He says, “Abide in me.” The word abide means to remain, to stay or to make your home in. 

And then He says something that should make us stop: “Apart from me, you can do nothing.”  Nothing.  We can do nothing apart from Him.  Not a little, not less, just nothing. Which means it’s entirely possible for me to do a lot of things that look meaningful but that amount to nothing in the Kingdom. 

And that’s where it gets tricky. We can lead without abiding. We can serve. We can build systems, plan events, help people… all without really being connected to Him.  If we’re not abiding, what we are producing isn’t fruit, it’s just output. Output might impress people, but fruit is what actually transforms them.  Fruit isn’t something we can manufacture. It grows out of connection, out of time spent with the Father.

So the real question isn’t, “What am I accomplishing?” but “Am I actually abiding?” 

I remember sitting in silence one morning, and within seconds I reached for my phone. Not because I needed anything, but because the quiet felt uncomfortable. That moment exposed something in me I hadn’t really paid attention to before. I needed to fill the space. The stillness felt so unnatural. I felt the Lord gently pressing in: Why is it so hard for you to stay? To just be with Me? 

I felt the Lord gently pressing in: Why is it so hard for you to stay? To just be with Me? 

That question stayed with me.

It helped me realize that abiding isn’t just about making time. It’s about what happens when everything else is stripped away and it’s just me and Him. It gets at something deeper. It’s not easy to sit with. For someone who is a doer, abiding feels costly.  It means stopping when you want to keep moving. Sitting when you could be accomplishing something. Leaving space unfilled. Not measuring your worth by what got done that day.  At the core, it means facing this reality: I am not the source.  Doing may make me feel useful, but abiding reminds me I’m dependent.  

Jesus is clear: If I don’t remain in Him, I wither. I might still look active and effective, but underneath it, something is off. And eventually, it shows. 

Abiding isn’t passive. It’s choosing to sit when everything in you wants to move. It’s choosing His presence over the pull of productivity.  It’s choosing connection to Him instead of trying to stay in control.  It’s choosing to be with Him before doing anything for Him.  

Abiding is intentional. 

What if the goal isn’t to produce more… but to remain more? 

What would you actually have to stop doing to remain with Him?