A Good Tree Brings Forth Good Fruit

A Good Tree Brings Forth Good Fruit

The one test you can’t fake

The African Insight That Echoed Jesus’ Words

Back in the 1940s, missionary Derek Prince spent five years teaching among the Maragoli people in Kenya. One revelation stopped him cold: In their Luragooli language, the same word means both "heart" and "voice."

He chuckled at first. "How do you tell them apart?"

The locals shrugged—why separate what’s inseparable?

The voice always betrays the heart.

No coincidence, then, that this tribe grasped the essence of Matthew 12 long before any Bible arrived: What’s inside spills out, unfiltered.

Jesus Didn’t Mince Words

Jesus laid it bare in Matthew 12:35:

"A good person out of the good treasure of the heart brings forth good, and an evil person out of evil treasure brings forth evil."

Good. Good. Good.

Evil. Evil. Evil.

He hammered it three times, no rush.

Then He sharpened the point with trees in Matthew 7:17-18:

"Every good tree bears good fruit, but a bad tree bears bad fruit.

A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a bad tree bear good fruit."

Thornbushes don’t yield oranges.

Grace-starved hearts don’t spill grace.

It’s that stark.

Your Words: The Unmasking of Your Soul

We fake plenty—Sunday smiles, curated feeds, polite Southern "bless your hearts."

But let words fly unchecked for five minutes, and the true roots surface, raw and undeniable.

• Gossip? Signals a bitter tangle below.

• Complaining? Roots in unbelief, eroding trust.

• Sarcasm? Pride’s sharp thorns, cutting deep.

• Encouragement? Springs from a Jesus-nourished core.

Fruit doesn’t fib. It exposes the tree—every time.

The Jarring Moments I’ve Witnessed

I’ve seen it unfold, heart-sinking: A deacon belts out a flawless prayer in church, voice like honey. Minutes later, in the diner lot, he snaps at the server—venom dripping.

Same man. Same roots.

The contrast hit me like whiplash: How could sweetness and spite share the same soil?

It forced a mirror to my own slips, where words betrayed hidden rot I’d ignored.

The Root-Level Transformation

Band-aids won’t do—don’t just polish the fruit.

Invite the Holy Spirit to uproot and replant:

Fertile soil yields strong roots, bringing true fruit—and words that heal, not harm.

No hacks, no quick fixes. Just surrender, letting grace rework the core.

A Prayer for Rooted Words

Lord,

Search my depths; expose the thorns I’ve let linger.

By Your Spirit, cultivate a heart that overflows good—words that build, not break.

Enable me to pause, lift my eyes to You, and echo Your voice alone.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

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