The Hour Has Come — Lose to Gain
“The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. Anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.”
— John 12:23–25 (NIV)
We often hear that following Christ requires us to “die to ourselves.” The phrase is familiar, but what does it really mean?
It sounds simple enough — surrender more, dig deeper into trust, choose forgiveness over bitterness, silence over retaliation. It feels like a recipe for Christ-like living. Easy - in theory. We can mind map all the right decisions, but our hearts aren’t always so cooperative. A wounded heart tends to fold its arms, tilt its head, and stubbornly resist.
For me, bitterness took root when I chose forgiveness disingenuously. I said the right words without allowing God to touch the pain.
In May of 2021, my family visited Redwood National Park in California. My husband was thrilled to see the Redwoods. I, a Colorado native who had seen plenty of trees, didn’t share his enthusiasm … until we arrived. Standing among those giants, I began to understand.
Coast Redwoods, some of the tallest trees in the world, can live up to 2,000 years. Yet the seeds that carry their future are no bigger than a grain of rice. The mission of the tree is not to last forever, but to live long enough to make room for rebirth.
I also learned about the Giant Sequoias, whose cones hold seeds sealed by resin. Only fire, the intense, consuming heat, can melt that resin and release what has been trapped inside. What appears destructive can also be essential. Without the fire, the seed never fulfills its purpose.
God has woven this truth into creation itself.
Fire is uncomfortable; it can leave scars, and when we look back, all looks destroyed. Bitterness often grows when we deny the hurt, we pretend we are good because we think faith demands it.
I clung to the resin of bitterness because I believed it would protect me. I thought the fires in my life were punishments, results of my own failures, and that God was letting me burn as a reminder of my shame. I wondered how God could ever use me again. I told myself it was too late.
But dying to self is not merely trying harder or behaving better; it is allowing old thought patterns, misplaced beliefs, and self-protective lies to die.
Sometimes, the fire isn’t meant to destroy us; it’s meant to release us.
If God designed trees to survive fire and emerge renewed, why would He not do the same with us?
- What “resin” are you clinging to because you think it keeps you safe?
- What seed has God placed in you that cannot be released until you let go?
Dying to self may not look heroic or holy in the moment. However, it could be inviting God into the places we’ve tried to seal shut.
If this encouraged you, check out more articles from our Flatirons Spiritual Formation Team for practical tools, encouragement, and ways to grow in your faith and leadership. Click here.