Abide this Summer: A Time for Spiritual Growth

Some years ago, in a fast-paced season of ministry, I found myself preaching in one location at 8:00 and 9:15 a.m., driving 18 miles to another campus, leading worship again at 11:00 a.m., and then returning to a leadership meeting—all before dinner. On paper, things looked fruitful. The schedule was full. The ministries were expanding. But if I’m honest, I was withering inside. I was leading for Jesus but not living with Him. My calendar was full of people, but my soul was empty of presence.

That season taught me something I’ve never forgotten: leadership that is not rooted in abiding will eventually collapse under the weight of its own activity. We were never meant to bear the yoke of leadership alone! Paul Tripp’s book Dangerous Calling fleshes that reality out better than I can in this article.

I have learned the hard way to believe that Jesus' words in John 15:5 are not only for the apostles but for every church leader, every pastor, every parent, and every follower of Christ: “I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit—for apart from me you can do nothing.”

Let that sink in for a moment. Not less fruit. Not slower growth. Nothing. If what is not done for God’s glory is burned up in judgment like hay, wood, and stubble, then, “false fruit” or “hollow fruit” will not qualify for growth.

It’s not that we stop leading when we fail to abide. It’s that the fruit becomes hollow—driven by pressure instead of presence. But abiding is more than a mystical ideal. It’s the quiet, daily practice of staying connected to the Source—Jesus Christ. And summer, with its slower rhythms and longer days, gives us an open invitation to refocus.

These days, I’ve built five daily anchors into my calendar—simple practices that help me stay grounded in Christ while leading others. I start with Scripture reading, not as a task for preparing messages or planning for teaching, but as a conversation with the One who knows my heart. I spend time in prayer, not to prepare for ministry, but to be present with the Shepherd of my soul. I try to exercise, not just for physical health, but to remind myself that my body belongs to the Lord. I make a point to talk with a friend about things that matter, because ministry was never meant to be solitary. And I intentionally enjoy music or God’s creation, because beauty slows me down and draws me back to wonder. These aren’t extravagant. But they are essential. They re-align me each day—not around productivity, but around Jesus Christ’s presence. Here’s a summary of my daily anchors:

Scripture reading

Prayer (based on the Scripture reading)

Exercise (simple, but routine)

Fellowship/conversation (talking about life, not necessarily work)

Music and creation (opening the window to our creative God for joy, peace, and wonder)

And as we talk about presence, we must remember the purpose of our presence in this world. Abiding isn’t withdrawal. It’s preparation. The goal of spiritual formation isn’t to feel spiritually refreshed for our own sake—it’s to glorify God and to bear lasting fruit in the lives of others. Jesus said, “You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit—and that your fruit should abide” (John 15:16).

This is the heartbeat of the Great Commission. We are called not just to attend church but to make disciples—real people, with real lives, walking toward Christ together in community. Small groups are often where this happens best. It’s where abiding becomes contagious. It’s where truth meets trust, and formation deepens through friendship. Summer is a great time to either find your place in a small group or prayerfully consider leading one in the fall. Don’t underestimate the quiet power of discipleship in a living room, around a table, or over coffee.

So here’s my invitation to you: don’t waste the slowness of summer. Let it help you find space to grow spiritually. Let it inspire you to abide again. Not by adding burdens but by rediscovering the blessing of simply being with Jesus. Reorder your mornings. Reclaim your quiet time with God. Put your phone down long enough to listen for the still, small voice that doesn’t always compete for your attention, but waits for it.

Abiding isn’t a break from real leadership or life—it’s the beginning of it (or should be). And your greatest impact will not come from how much you do for Christ, but from how deeply you walk with Him.

So, whether you’re a pastor preparing for the fall, a teacher catching your breath, a mom balancing camp schedules and other activities with the kids, or a retiree with time to reflect and invest in your community—let this be a season not just of rest, but of renewal. Make space to abide in your Savior. And from that abiding, trust that God will bear fruit—in you and through you—that will last for an eternity.

With sincere gratitude,

Christopher (Chris) W. Crain, MBA, M.Div., D.Min.

Executive Director