Fruity Fridays: Slow, Soft, Seeing Gentleness

(A series about the Fruit of the Spirit, Galatians 5)

post by Eric Vorhies 

When I think of gentleness, the first image that comes to mind is a new parent holding their child. Or maybe, gentleness is the appropriate amount of pressure to a car’s gas pedal when a teen is behind the wheel. It’s the spy in the movie handling the bomb, it’s a team of nurses in the hospital transferring a patient from a stretcher to a bed, and it’s the way one picks up the pieces of broken glass. Gentleness is slow in the way it moves. It understands the importance of a situation and is aware of the consequences of hurriedness. Gentleness is soft in the way it touches. It is reserved for handling the most delicate and fragile of all items. Gentleness sees in the way eyes cannot. Gentleness is guided, not by the present situation, but by the possibilities of many situations that are yet to come. 

Everyone understands the consequences of not being gentle when holding a baby. You could drop them… which apparently isn’t funny to even joke about. But what about the consequences of handling a relationship? Like luggage at an airport — most of the damage is on the inside and goes unseen by the person who handled it poorly. How messed up will someone be on the inside if they are not handled with gentleness? 

I need you to understand something — I haven’t been able to write this post because I have been distracted with life. Work has been unpleasantly slow, and I have been primarily a stay-at-home parent (which I am not good at) of three boys under 5yo (who I love dearly) that are, by default, very dependent on me. Then today, I learned that some very expensive equipment of mine can’t be fixed, I ordered the wrong rental to use this weekend in place of my broken equipment, and everything was frustratingly avoidable. I haven’t wanted to write this because gentleness has been absent from my life. 

And it makes me think…

The level of gentleness that God must possess…It seems unfathomable. Think about it — I am broken with sin, you are broken with sin…everyone is broken. We are metaphorically like fractured and cracked pieces of glass or jars of clay, and God is carrying us to our destination, slowly, softly, and seeing everything that could go wrong. My eyes well up thinking about how differently He has Fathered me than I would have fathered myself. 

The thing that has been weighing heavily on me is the thought that I might somehow be contributing to the brokenness of those around me because I am not being gentle. Is my sin damaging the fragile parts of the people I care most about? I have been short when I should have been patient. I have projected frustration when I should have projected insightfulness. I have been rash when I should have been calming. I have shaken the relational foundations with others to cope with my own feelings.

Maybe you are like me in some way…not applying gentleness to situations that resemble a bomb that is about to explode or to relationships that so are damaged they need to be treated like an ER patient.

Well, that’s why James writes, “Be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry.”

Be Slow when you react to people. It will give you time to find the right words to say, if anything needs to be said at all.

Be Soft in the way you deal with them. It is not about the amount of pressure that is applied, but how and where and when that pressure is applied that can break something…or someone.

And See the potential consequences of how not being gentle will play out. Because deep down, we are vulnerable and susceptible to being damaged because of the baggage we carry.

What’s God Missing?

Seasons. Life has them. That includes nature. That also includes humans.

God doesn’t have seasons. He is constant, the same yesterday, today, forever. So when we go through a season that doesn’t include him or creates distance between us, what does that mean for him?

What brings us into such a season? 

  • It may be a season where time management is a challenge, and one of the things that suffers is our alone time with God. 
  • It may be a season where you are transitioning into a new job, a new city, a new family dynamic, and it hasn’t dawned on you to figure out where your time with God fits into the new. 
  • It may be a season where you are simply dry, and time alone with God feels even more dry. 

Whatever brought on this season, all you know is that you miss your time with God. You know what you miss, and you’re trying to recapture it. To recapture it, maybe even enter a season yet to be experienced, what if you answered this question: What is God missing?

If you’re missing whatever you used to get out of the relationship, what is he missing that he used to get out of it? Is he missing…

  • …the opportunity to embrace you?
  • …the chance to guide you?
  • …the time to refresh you?
  • …the avenue to encourage you?
  • …the method to challenge you?
  • …the space for you to worship?
  • …the channel to inspire you?

One thing I’ve experienced is the truth to the promise God made that if we seek him we will find him. Give seeking him a shot by asking him this question. I’m guessing he can’t wait to tell you what he’s been missing.

Leaving the Circus Well

Maybe you’ve heard this saying, “Not my circus. Not my monkeys.” If not, you probably get the meaning. Basically, I know what and where my circus is, and that, right there, isn’t part of it.

The circus reference could apply to many areas of life: business, family, neighborhood, church, relationships. Some of these we choose to join, and some we don’t get that choice. But we all get the same choice about how long we stay in the circus.

What is interesting to watch is how people react after they’ve chosen to leave a certain circus of life. Some leave quite well; others seem to not really understand what they actually chose when they decided to leave the circus. Reality takes time to set in, and unfortunately, for some, it never does. These thoughts are for those who haven’t left well, who are struggling with their new circus.

When you choose to leave a circus…

  • …accept that the next circus is going to have monkeys also.
  • …you no longer get the popcorn and cotton candy from that circus.
  • …the acts of your new circus aren’t interested in how things ran in your last circus.
  • …over time, the acts of the old circus won’t call to see how you’re doing…and they don’t owe you that unless you actually mutually committed to it.
  • …you have to own your choice. Odds are, you made it, so own it.
  • …respect your old ringmaster’s commitment to the acts still with him. You’re not his monkey any more.
  • …embrace your new ringmaster and the other acts, monkeys and all.

Choose wisely. When it’s time to leave, leave. And leave well.

Book Review: The Power of the Other

I just finished reading Dr. Henry Cloud’s latest book, The Power of the Other, and I’ve already given it away.

That might sound like I didn’t like it. Not the case. I passed it on to someone else because it needs to be read.

  • It should be read by anyone who tends to isolate themselves.
  • It should be read by anyone who is drawn to bad relationships.
  • It should be read by anyone who doesn’t deal well with reality.
  • It should be read by anyone seeking to establish healthy, honest, trustworthy, supportive and deep relationships.

Here are some teasers to see if you agree:

Good, caring people can be perceived wrongly by others simply because a connection has not been made. 

Rarely invest in or with someone who can’t listen. 

Character is much more than whether or not someone is going to lie, cheat, or steal. 

Healthy cultures embrace people where they are but they also nudge them and sometimes even push them to get better. 

When we are in a negative critical state, the brain, the mind, the spirit, and the soul are all in a downturn. 

The Listening Life (Book Review)


I’ve taken a month to read this book. No, it wasn’t laboriously or begrudgingly. I’m a “read-every-word” kind of reader, and this book demands that every word be chewed on and not just skimmed. If that already turns your head, then you probably don’t need to rush to buy it. On the other hand, maybe you do.

Why? Read the subtitle. See why now?

If you agree attentiveness is hard work these days because of our ever increasing distracting world, then Adam McHugh is talking your language.

“…the fact that we pay millions of dollars annually for people to listen to us indicates our poverty in this arena.”

 “The voices we want to hear are not always the same as the voices we need to hear.” (Chapter 1)

McHugh does an excellent in the first five chapters establishing that this attentive life is grounded in our relationship with God, his Word, and Creation.

“God has absolutely no obligation to pay attention to anyone or anything…The Lord astonishes us and completely flips power on its ear by entering into listening relationships with people.”

“It seems that God’s ear is inclined toward those who themselves are listeners.”

“The Bible should never close us to hearing God’s voice in other venues; rather it ought to open us to recognize it wherever we hear it.”

In the final four chapters McHugh addresses the listening life between humans, those in pain, and listening to your life.

“Trying to fix, judge, rescue or change others are all subtle ways of exerting power over other people.”

“Good listening starts with the scandalous premise that this conversation is not about you.”

“How many conflicts and disagreements start because we think we already understand each other?”

“Listening experts say that only 7% of a person’s meaning is conveyed in the actual words they speak.”

“AHEN: Anger comes from a Hurt, which comes from an Expectation, which comes from a Need”

As a person who has been told many times over the years that I listen well, this book revealed many areas where I need growth. If you know you do also, take the time to read every word in this book. You and everyone in your life will thank you. I’m guessing even God will thank you. Well, most likely you’ll thank him. 

Enjoy your growth.

Random Statements Re: Identity

At your core, you are who God says you are.

Your job title is what you do not who you are.

Your bank account balance is what you have not who you are nor what you’re worth.

Your relationship status and history reveal your choices based on who you believe you are.

Anytime you identify yourself different from God’s identity of you, you may face hardship, confusion or regret.

When you wake up to a misplaced identity crisis, correction is as close as a prayer.