“On the other hand, the fruitage of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faith, mildness, self-control.” —Galatians 5:22, 23

👉 Read in the New World Translation

The hallway was quiet except for the rhythmic ticking of the old clock on the wall and the hum of fluorescent lights overhead. In the small hospital room, a brother sat beside his aging father’s bed, Bible open on his lap. The machines beeped steadily—marking time in a space where time seemed to stretch long and thin. His father, once a strong elder, now barely stirred beneath the blankets.

The son’s eyes, tired but warm, drifted from the IV line back to the verse he had just read aloud. “Love, joy, peace…” He paused, voice nearly a whisper, “…patience, kindness, goodness…” A gentle exhale followed as he added silently, mildness, self-control.

This was not a moment of triumph. No one was watching. No one applauding. And yet it was here—in the quiet surrender to caregiving, in the tireless effort to show dignity to the weak—that spiritual maturity revealed its radiant strength.

In his letter to the Galatians, the apostle Paul did not describe the fruitage of the spirit as a burst of fireworks or a dazzling display of abilities. He described it in the language of character. And he began, deliberately, with love. Love as the primary expression—the root from which every other trait blossoms.

But Paul didn’t stop with love. The full fruitage includes patience that stays calm through waiting, mildness that refuses to retaliate, and self-control that whispers no to selfish impulses. These are not always easy to cultivate. They grow slowly—often watered by tears, pruned by hardship, and nourished by humility.

Take the mature Christian, for example, who doesn’t simply know Bible principles—but searches them out. He’s not content to skim the surface. When facing difficulty, he digs deep, testing his decisions against Jehovah’s standards, not his own.

He consults his Bible-trained conscience, listens carefully, and walks humbly. He resists the temptation to react impulsively or defensively. And though disappointment may batter his heart, he doesn’t let it drown his hope.

This kind of maturity is not measured in years of service—but in the quality of Christlike reflection. A mature brother or sister could be young or old, well-known or barely noticed. What defines them is their steady, Spirit-guided walk—one that leads to unity, peace, and spiritual growth in the congregation.

So what about us?

Each of us faces moments—some loud, others quietly painful—where we are tempted to snap, to give up, to act on impulse. Maybe it’s in caregiving that seems never-ending. Maybe it’s in the face of misunderstanding or discouragement. Maybe it’s just the daily stress that wears thin our inner peace.

But Galatians 5:22, 23 calls us to ask: What is growing in me? Am I reflecting the qualities that spring from Jehovah’s spirit? Am I cultivating not just love—but patience, mildness, and self-control when they’re hardest to show?

And just as important: Am I still progressing? Am I drawing closer to the pattern of Jesus, even in private moments when no one sees?

Paul began with love, but the fruitage doesn’t end there. It branches outward, covering every corner of our life. And its presence is not for our benefit alone—it brings refreshment to others. It builds unity. It dignifies the discouraged.

So even if your service feels quiet… even if your growth seems slow… do not discount the beauty Jehovah sees in it.

“The fruitage of the spirit is love.” And it is visible to the One who searches the heart.

He sees your effort. He honors your progress. He walks beside you, pruning, strengthening, nourishing.

—Based on The Watchtower, September 15, 2015, Study Edition, pages 1–2.