Have you ever looked at your life and quietly thought: “I really thought I’d be further along by now.”
Further along spiritually. Further along emotionally. Further along in your calling. Further along in healing. Further along in whatever you thought God would have done by now.
I have. And if I’m honest, sometimes what bothers me most isn’t that nothing is happening. It’s that it isn’t happening fast enough for me to feel like I’m progressing.
That’s when comparison gets dangerous.
Someone else seems to be moving quickly. Their opportunity came; their platform grew; their prayer got answered, or their life seems to be moving forward while yours feels painfully slow.
And before long, you start asking: Am I behind? Did I miss something? Why is this taking so long?
But lately, I’ve been wondering if maybe I’ve been using the wrong measurement. Maybe I’m measuring growth by speed while God is measuring depth.
We live in a world that celebrates fast. Fast results. Fast growth. Fast promotion. Fast transformation.
We like things we can measure. Numbers going up. Doors opening. Goals being checked off. Something visible that says: “See? I’m getting somewhere.”
And there’s nothing wrong with progress. But spiritual growth is not always easy to measure from the outside.
Sometimes the deepest work God is doing is happening where nobody can see it.
Colossians 2:6–7 says:
“And now, just as you accepted Christ Jesus as your Lord, you must continue to follow him. Let your roots grow down into him, and let your lives be built on him.”
Let your roots grow down into Him.
Roots are interesting because their most important work happens underground. Nobody applauds them. Nobody photographs them. Nobody even knows how deep they’ve gone.
But eventually, everything visible depends on them.
I’ve had seasons when I couldn’t see much changing and assumed that meant I wasn’t growing. I wanted evidence. Something measurable.
Something I could point to and say: “There. That proves this season is working.”
But some of the most important growth in my life has been much quieter.
Responding differently to something that used to trigger me. Needing less approval than I used to. Recovering faster after disappointment. Being able to hear correction without immediately becoming defensive. Choosing obedience even when nobody notices. Learning to trust God without knowing exactly how something will turn out.
Those things don’t always look impressive. But they are not small.
Sometimes the evidence of growth isn’t that your circumstances changed. It’s that you are no longer the same person standing in them.
A tree can grow tall quickly and still have shallow roots. And when the storm comes, height becomes far less impressive than stability.
I think the same can happen spiritually. We can become so focused on getting somewhere that we forget to ask whether we’re becoming someone who can remain faithful once we arrive.
God seems much more interested in that than I sometimes am.
Scripture is full of people whose formation took longer than they probably expected.
David was anointed king long before he sat on the throne.
Joseph carried a dream long before he understood what it would cost.
Moses spent years in the wilderness before returning to Egypt.
Their stories remind me that God does not seem nearly as nervous about long processes as we are.
We see delay. God may see roots.
We see inactivity. God may see preparation.
We see a season we want to hurry through. God may see something He refuses to rush.
This is the part that challenges me. Because I like fruit. I like seeing something happen. I like knowing that the work, prayer, obedience, or sacrifice produced something.
Jesus certainly cares about fruit too.
But in John 15, fruit comes from one very important place: remaining in Him.
Jesus says:
“Yes, I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit.”
—John 15:5 NLT
Remaining comes before producing.
Connection comes before visible results.
Depth comes before sustainable fruit.
And maybe that’s why God sometimes refuses to move at the speed I would choose. Because He is not only thinking about what He wants to do through me. He cares deeply about what He is building in me.
That thought has been freeing for me.
Maybe slow doesn’t automatically mean stuck. Maybe hidden doesn’t mean forgotten. Maybe a season without obvious progress isn’t a wasted season. And maybe I’m not behind simply because my life doesn’t look like somebody else’s timeline.
God has never asked me to keep pace with another person.
He has asked me to remain in Him. That changes the question.
Instead of constantly asking: “Why am I not further along?”
Maybe I need to ask: “Am I more deeply rooted in Jesus than I was before?”
Do I trust Him more? Am I becoming more secure in who He says I am? Do I respond with more grace? Am I more willing to surrender? Can I obey without needing immediate reward? Can I stay faithful when growth feels invisible?
Because if those things are happening, then I am growing. Even if the growth is underground.
I don’t want a life that only looks mature. I want one that can withstand storms.
I don’t want a calling my character can’t carry. I don’t want visible fruit attached to shallow roots. I want depth.
And depth rarely happens quickly.
So if you’ve been looking at your life thinking, “I should be further along by now,” maybe you aren’t as stuck as you think.
Maybe God is doing something beneath the surface that speed could never accomplish.
Keep remaining. Keep obeying. Keep letting your roots grow down into Him. Because God is not simply trying to get you somewhere fast.
He is building something in you that can last.
Let’s Tune In.
