Paying Attention to the Fruit
When I was growing up, one of those lovely sayings I heard my mom say over and over again was this:
There are two sides to every story.
Most of the time, she was saying it because my brother and I had vastly different recollections of exactly how things went down between us.
As I got a little bit older and a little bit wiser, though, I heard a different rendition of this adage that went like this:
There are three sides to every story. His side. Her side. And the truth that’s somewhere in the middle.
I think the first time I heard this was when some friends were going through a divorce. The more conflict I’ve survived in life, though, the more I’ve come to realize this simple saying holds a ton of wisdom and truth.
If you grew up in the church like I did, you might have been raised to believe most things are black and white, that there is an absolute truth, and everything else is simply a lie.
If I’m being honest, I have to admit life would be so much easier if that were, in fact, our reality. The older I’ve become and the more life I’ve lived, though, the more I’ve started to understand that the majority of life is not at all black and white. Most of it falls somewhere on a grayscale, and that grayscale changes with individuals.
It’s much more difficult to live with an awareness of the grayscale than it is to go through life believing all things are black and white.
Seeing Different Stories
This became glaringly true to me when I was in therapy. I was chatting with my therapist about some absurd “truths” an individual in my life was spouting off about. I couldn’t wrap my head around how we could be in the same place witnessing the same events, and yet have such different explanations of what happened. My therapist lovingly explained to me that with certain personality types, you could literally show them video footage of someone breaking into your house, and they would argue that no one broke into your house.
Even when there is clear, factual evidence pointing to one truth, these individuals refuse to believe it and will continue to spread the truth as they see it.
I’d love to tell you the church is exempt from these types of phenomena, but the sad reality is that they can, at times, be some of the worst perpetrators.
This can be especially true when church hurt, spiritual abuse, and religious trauma are involved.
Many of us here have left tables we were once comfortable at. We’ve had tables we once loved become completely decimated. We’ve sifted through the rubble, and we are trying to find where we belong now. The reality for most of us is that we still have friends and family members sitting at those tables that damaged us.
Some of them have no idea the damage even happened.
Some of them can’t understand the damage that happened.
And still, some of them might even be unwittingly contributing to the damage.
The question for us, then, becomes: How do we navigate the people who are still comfortable at our old table?
The People Who Stayed
I’ve lived through some extremely damaging experiences in churches—one involved spiritual abuse resulting in religious trauma and the other involved severe church hurt involving pastoral leadership.
I have very little contact with the folks still sitting at that first table, but I desperately want to heal and grow in my relationships with the folks still sitting in the rubble of the second table.
Here’s what’s interesting: my relationship with the folks sitting at these two different tables was very similar. While the people were different, my relationship to them was the same. So, what makes me want to heal one set of relationships while severing the others?
I wish there was an easy way to answer this question. I wish I could point to some Scripture or some example of Jesus to explain it, but there isn’t a one-size-fits-all answer here.
For me, though, it all goes back to that altered adage and that one important conversation with my therapist.
See, I can’t control the people at these tables.
What I can do is watch them respond and take note because I’ve learned this important lesson in life: when people show you who they are, you pay attention.
Are they listening?
Are they seeking truth?
Are they responding in love?
Are they seeking accountability for those who damaged others?
Or...
Are they being manipulated by lies?
Are they being convinced of narratives even when the facts and evidence say otherwise?
Are they responding in hate?
Are they more concerned about sweeping damage under the rug than they are with holding folks accountable?
Those are the questions I find myself asking before I seek growth and healing with the people still sitting at the table that damaged me.
The older I get, the less interested I am in whether someone agrees with my version of events. What I watch for now is whether they’re willing to pursue truth—even if it costs them. Are they curious? Can they admit when they don’t know? Can they hold space for someone else’s pain without immediately defending the institution, the leader, or the narrative they’ve always believed?
A Lens for Discernment
I wish I could point to a verse that told us exactly which relationships to restore and which ones to leave behind. Scripture doesn’t give us a checklist for every relationship. Instead, it gives us wisdom. Again and again, Jesus calls us to pay attention—not merely to what people say, but to the fruit their lives produce. The New Testament consistently points us toward humility, repentance, accountability, truth, and love. Those become the lenses through which we discern whether a relationship can heal.
And for those of us who are sitting in the rubble of tables we once felt were home, those are the lenses we need to consider when we decide how—or whether—to move forward with these relationships.
Matthew records Jesus’s teaching on fruit in chapter 7:
Constantly be on your guard against phony prophets. They come disguised as lambs, appearing to be genuine, but on the inside they are like wild, ravenous wolves! You can spot them by their actions, for the fruits of their character will be obvious. You won’t find sweet grapes hanging on a thorn bush, and you’ll never pick good fruit from a tumbleweed. So if the tree is good, it will produce good fruit; but if the tree is bad, it will bear only rotten fruit and deserves to be cut down and burned. You’ll know them by the obvious fruit of their lives and ministries. (15-20 TPT)
The fruit of their character will be obvious.
If the tree is good, it will produce good fruit.
If the tree is bad, it will bear only rotten fruit.
When you look at the people still sitting at the table, what does their fruit look like?
Is it good fruit?
Or is it rotten fruit?
Are they seeking truth and accountability?
Or are they turning a blind eye and sweeping it under the rug?
Are they truly genuine?
Or are they just appearing to be genuine?
Jesus doesn’t tell us we’ll know them by:
Their theology.
Their positions.
Their titles.
Their certainty.
Their church attendance.
Their personality.
Their tithes.
It’s their fruit we’re supposed to notice—what is consistently growing out of their lives. Jesus never told us to ignore what people consistently produce. He told us to pay attention.
“You will know them by their fruit.”
Not by what they claim.
Not by what they believe about themselves.
By the patterns their lives produce.
This isn’t about becoming the fruit inspector for everyone around you. It’s about learning to pay attention where your own healing is concerned. Jesus gives us this wisdom not so we can become more judgmental, but so we can become more discerning. There is a difference.
The truth is, paying attention to the fruit isn’t always easy. Sometimes it confirms what your heart has been hoping all along. Other times it forces you to accept a reality you’ve been trying desperately not to see. Discernment rarely gives us the answer we want. Instead, it gives us the clarity we need.
Building a Healthier Table
The hardest part of leaving a damaged table isn’t always leaving the institution. Sometimes it’s realizing that people you deeply love are still sitting there. Some of them may eventually recognize what happened. Some may never see it. Some may choose comfort over truth because truth costs too much. None of those choices are yours to control.
Your responsibility isn’t to convince everyone else. Your responsibility is to pay attention to the fruit, protect your own healing, and leave room for people to surprise you—whether that’s through genuine repentance or by confirming they aren’t yet safe enough to invite back into your life.
Not everyone who stayed at your old table will belong at your new one.
Some people will surprise you with humility, curiosity, and courage. They will climb into the rubble beside you instead of asking you to pretend it never happened. Those relationships are worth tending.
Others will keep defending the table, even as it continues to hurt the people sitting around it.
Jesus never asked us to ignore the fruit.
He asked us to pay attention.
This paying attention is exactly what allows us to build a healthier table the next time.
Reflection Questions
As you think about the people still sitting at the table you left, what fruit have you consistently seen in their lives? Is it fruit that invites trust, or fruit that calls for caution?
Have you been spending more energy trying to convince people to understand your experience than paying attention to how they are responding? What might change if you shifted your focus from changing their minds to discerning their fruit?
Is there someone who has surprised you with humility, curiosity, accountability, or genuine love? Is there someone whose fruit has consistently shown they are not yet safe? Ask God for the wisdom to recognize the difference and the courage to respond accordingly.
I write in two spaces. A Seat at the Table is where I explore faith, healing, and making room for honesty after it’s been made complicated. Ink & Intention is for writers who want to show up with clarity, discernment, and integrity—especially online.
I’m also the author of Breathing Again and several guided journals, and I work with writers who want thoughtful, grounded support as they find their voice and shape what comes next.
If you’re a writer looking for thoughtful encouragement, practical strategy, and honest conversations about the writing life, you’re also welcome to join us inside The Visible Author Facebook Community.
If something here resonated, you’re welcome to explore more at your own pace. You can find everything in one place at KristenNeighbarger.com.
