Kindness That Blooms in Barren Seasons

Most of us are different women when the sun is shining. When the flowers are pushing up through the soil and the air smells like saltwater and springtime, life feels light. We love generously. In those moments, grace flows out, kindness comes easily, and patience doesn’t feel quite so costly. 

Then there are the seasons when the sky turns gray and grief settles in like a long stretch of overcast skies. When weariness and fatigue drain the color from everything around you, the desire to extend grace to others fades. 

On days like these, we tend to give ourselves a pass. When we’re hurting or depleted, our bodies and minds turn inward. We move into self-preservation mode, conserving what little emotional strength we have left. 

These are seasons when we especially need the kindness of others––meals from friends, cards of support, texts and calls offering comfort. As we experience the compassion of God’s people and rest in His presence, we begin to sense signs of life where the soil of our lives has been cold and barren. 

The truth is, even in seasons of deep need, we’re not disqualified from extending kindness to others. It often feels far easier to let exhaustion turn into irritability, to remain silent or emotionally closed off, or to let frustration and bitterness build. We may tell ourselves it’s understandable because of what we’re facing—especially when those responses spill out on those closest to us. 

But when we see women who continue to extend kindness in their hardest seasons—when grief clouds their days or heartache weighs heavily on their shoulders, and yet they still serve those around them—it catches our attention. I think of women I’ve known and witnessed up close: a friend who seems to remember everything happening in my life, taking time to send thoughtful emails to check in on me, even as she undergoes physically painful and mentally exhausting cancer treatment. Or Nancy DeMoss Wolgemuth, who, on the morning of her husband’s Homegoing service, sent the Revive Our Hearts team an encouraging note filled with gratitude. 

There’s something striking about that kind of kindness. A woman’s willingness to care for others when she herself is hurting is a glimpse of grace at work. Perhaps the reason her example moves us so deeply is because it reflects the character of Christ Himself. 

His example in the Gospels shows us that when we extend kindness isn’t based on our emotional reserves or dependent on if the weather of our lives feels right. Even in barren seasons, the kindness of God can still bloom. 

Serving Through Sorrow 

When we read the Gospel accounts, it’s tempting to look at moments when Jesus served others with compassion and think, Of course, that’s how He responded. He’s the Son of God. But while Jesus was fully divine, He was also fully human and felt the full weight of exhaustion, sorrow, and grief.

To us, the horrific account of John the Baptist’s beheading can read like a historical event—and it is. But to Jesus, it was a personal report about the death of John, his cousin who was just six months older than Him. When Jesus heard John’s name, what family memories came to His mind? What affection filled His heart? 

In Matthew 14, Herod had arrested John, chained him, and put him in prison. He later “sent orders and had John beheaded in the prison. His head was brought on a platter and given to the girl, who carried it to her mother. Then his disciples came, removed the corpse, buried it, and went and reported to Jesus” (Matt. 14:10–12).

The next verse says, “When Jesus heard about it, he withdrew from there by boat to a remote place to be alone.” But He wasn’t alone. “When the crowds heard this, they followed him on foot from the towns” (Matt. 14:13). Jesus could have responded with frustration. He could have withdrawn further or turned them away. Instead, verse 14 says, “When he went ashore, he saw a large crowd, had compassion on them, and healed their sick.” 

That evening, after what must have been an emotionally draining day, the disciples urged Jesus to send the crowds away to buy food for themselves. But instead, Jesus miraculously provided food for the five thousand (Matt. 14:13–21). In the wake of John the Baptist’s death, Jesus brought life to those around Him: healing the sick, feeding the hungry, and allowing the crowd to experience the nearness and care of God.

Then, “after dismissing the crowds, he went up on the mountain by himself to pray. Well into the night, he was there alone” (Matt. 14:23).

This was done privately; Matthew has two expressions, by himself and alone, so that he is emphasizing that what took place was between Jesus and his Father only; Matthew is not referring to any public expression of devotion. The day had been wearing; Jesus found solace in quietness with the Father.¹

Though we can only imagine what Jesus poured out to the Father that night, we can learn from His example. His compassion for others was sustained by communion with God. He didn’t draw from endless emotional reserves within Himself; He returned to the Father, His source of comfort and strength. 

Kindness at the Cross 

No other moment in Jesus’ life displays His kindness more profoundly than the way He cared for others while on the cross. In the final moments before His death, “standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother, his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene” (John 19:25). As He hung from the cross in unimaginable agony, “Jesus saw his mother and the disciple he loved standing there” (v. 26).

Here’s what Nancy DeMoss Wolgemuth wrote about this moment in her book Incomparable: 

Would [Mary] be safe? Would she be cared for? How would her daily, practical needs be met? What would everyday life look like for Mary once Jesus was gone?

Jesus was mindful of those questions. He cared about what she would face in the days ahead. He cared about her. And He showed His care in a practical way, by making loving, adequate provision for her through John, the beloved disciple, who was standing with Mary at the cross. . . .

In the midst of carrying out the most important work in the history of the world, Jesus did not overlook what others might have considered a relatively insignificant task—tending to the future needs of His mother.²

Even there, in the shadow of the cross and in the middle of unbearable anguish, Jesus cared for Mary in her own grief. His practical love for her ensured that she would be held and sustained after His death and resurrection. 

Love. Kindness. Gentleness. When Jesus was pierced, the fruit of the Spirit overflowed from His heart into tangible words and action. How different His example is from our own natural responses in times of pain or pressure. And yet, because Jesus responded with perfect kindness and compassion in every moment of testing—because He overcame sin, temptation, suffering, and even death itself—the same Spirit that produced that love and gentleness is now at work in us.

So when grief tightens its grip and your first instinct is to respond in ways that don’t reflect Him, you can turn to the Lord and confess honestly: Lord, I feel _____, and I don’t like how I’m responding. I’m tempted to _______, but I want to respond with the kindness of Christ. Will You work in my heart to produce Your patience and gentleness in me—especially now when I have none of my own to give?

Then, by His grace, you can begin to live it out, one moment at a time, in small, practical ways. 

Remember that kindness requires humility. Before trying to act on your own, ask the Lord for His help. Ask Him to soften your tone and make you more aware of the needs of the person in front of you than your own. This may look like choosing a gentle response when irritation rises or simply staying present when everything in you wants to withdraw. It may look like serving others in simple ways—even while your own heart is still tender and your circumstances feel gray. 

As you do, you may begin to notice that each simple act of kindness adds a bit of color back into what once felt barren, as the love of Christ brings life to the world around you. 

Spring Returns 

Have you ever wondered how those touched by Christ’s kindness went on to imitate Him?

After the resurrection, Jesus’ followers didn’t experience less hardship or grief. Yet in the midst of their difficult circumstances, they carried forward what they had received from Him—the mercy He gave, the compassion He showed, and the love He made visible in ordinary, everyday ways. 

And as they did, those small acts began to impact their world:

When we give mercy to one another––when we continue to pour out kindness and gospel love to each other instead of stinging words, bitterness, or hatred––the ground begins to rumble a little with the song of redemption. So, as spring returns to the soil, perhaps we should ask ourselves how we can usher in the goodness and kindness of God wherever we go in this cold world.³

Where can you show Christlike kindness in this season? Who needs a gentle word, a softened response, or even an apology? As the Spirit faithfully grows His fruit in you, may He cause the kindness of God to bloom—and bring new life through you.

¹ Leon Morris, The Gospel according to Matthew, The Pillar New Testament Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI; Leicester, England: W.B. Eerdmans; Inter-Varsity Press, 1992), 381.

² Nancy DeMoss Wolgemuth, Incomparable: 50 Days with Jesus (Chicago: Moody Publishers, 2018), 151.

³ Andrea Burke, A Bit of Earth: A Year in the Garden with God (Chicago: Moody Publishers, 2023), 105.