Kindness in the Bible: When Kindness Runs Dry

You said something today you didn’t mean to say.

Or maybe you didn’t say anything at all. You just went quiet in a way that had edges to it, the kind of quiet that lands on the people around you like a closed door.

And afterward, perhaps much later, you thought, That is not who I want to be.

You know you are supposed to be kind. You want to be kind. You may have spent years being the person who notices what people need, who shows up, who remembers, who gives.

But lately, something feels different.

You are tired in a way that sleep doesn’t always fix. Your patience is thinner. Your warmth feels harder to access. Things that once rolled off your back suddenly get under your skin.

And then comes the shame.

Why am I like this?

Maybe the problem isn’t that you’ve become unkind.

Maybe you’re depleted.

Sometimes, understanding kindness in the Bible begins with understanding what kindness is not.

Kindness in the Bible: More Than Being Nice

We often think of kindness as something that comes from our own character. Be nicer. Be more patient. Choose your words carefully. Try harder.

And there is certainly a place for choosing kindness.

But Scripture describes something deeper.

Kindness is fruit.

Fruit isn’t manufactured by the branch. It grows because the branch is connected to a living source.

That distinction matters when you’re exhausted.

Because if you’ve been trying to produce kindness entirely from your own reserves, eventually you’re going to discover that your reserves are not endless.

You were never designed to be the source.

You were designed for connection.

The kindness of God

One of the Hebrew words we encounter in Scripture for God’s steadfast kindness is chesed. It is a beautiful, weighty word that carries ideas of steadfast love, mercy, faithfulness, and covenant love.

It is not simply the feeling of being fond of someone.

It is love that shows up.

Love that remains.

Love that is not dependent upon whether circumstances are convenient or whether the person receiving it has earned it.

Psalm 136 repeats the same truth again and again:

“His steadfast love endures forever.”

Perhaps we need the repetition.

Because we live in a world that constantly reminds us that our own strength has limits.

Our energy runs out.

Our patience runs out.

Our ability to keep giving runs out.

But His steadfast love does not.

And that changes the question.

Instead of asking, How can I somehow find more kindness in myself today?

Perhaps we can begin asking,

Have I allowed myself to receive the kindness of God?

You cannot give what you have never received

There is something humbling about realizing that sometimes the most spiritual thing we can do is admit that we are empty.

Not fix the emptiness.

Not disguise it.

Not push ourselves until we can perform kindness convincingly again.

Just bring the empty vessel to God.

I have nothing left.

I need You.

That kind of prayer may not feel particularly impressive.

But it is honest.

And honesty is often where connection begins.

The kindness God produces in us is not meant to be another burden we carry. It is the visible fruit of a life connected to Him.

So if your patience has been thin lately, if your words have been sharper than you intended, if you’ve found yourself wondering where your warmth went, perhaps you don’t need another lecture about becoming a kinder person.

Perhaps you need to sit for a while with the One whose steadfast love endures forever.

There is more to this kind of kindness than simply being nice.

There is a Hebrew word.

There is a Greek word.

There is a flower that has something surprisingly beautiful to teach us about generosity.

And there is a question I think many of us need to ask:

What happens when the woman who is always giving finally learns how to receive?

That is where I want to take you in this week’s episode of At Forests Edge.

Come sit with me at the forest’s edge.

Listen to Episode Thirteen, “Kindness: The Dahlia,” wherever you listen to podcasts, and discover what the Holy Spirit’s fruit of kindness might look like when it flows from a source that never runs dry.

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A little something to carry with you

Before you move on with your day, pause for a moment and ask yourself:

Where have I been trying to produce from my own strength what God is inviting me to receive from Him?

You don’t have to have the answer yet.

Sometimes the question is enough to begin walking.