You Can’t Microwave Spirituality: Slow-Cooked Faith That Lasts
- Gary L Ellis
- Sep 27
- 3 min read
Here’s a fact: Most of us love microwaves. Pop in leftovers, push a button, and in 90 seconds we’ve got dinner. Convenience is king in almost every corner of modern life. Except one.
You can’t microwave spiritual maturity.
You can’t “zap” your way into patience, hope, or deep trust in God. You can’t binge-watch a sermon series, highlight half your Bible in neon yellow, and expect to be transformed overnight.
God’s Kingdom doesn’t work on fast food speed — it moves like
a seed pushing through soil,
sourdough rising on the counter,
old wine aging in the dark.
Or, one of my favorites: good Mexican Mole.
And here’s the reality: the very slowness we resist is the gift that actually changes us.
The Kingdom Moves at the Speed of Seed
Jesus made this plain: “The Kingdom of Heaven is like a mustard seed” (Matthew 13:31). Not a firecracker, not a microwave burrito — a seed.
Seeds don’t care about our timelines. They grow underground where nobody’s clapping for them. Roots deepen before shoots rise.
Spiritual maturity grows the same way — slow, hidden, sometimes frustrating. But necessary. Paul told the Galatians, “Do not be deceived: God is not mocked. For whatever one sows, that will he also reap” (Galatians 6:7). Seeds in, fruit out. No shortcuts.
Rachel Held Evans once wrote, “Faith isn’t about having all the right answers; it’s about staying in the story.” Seeds require staying. Waiting. Trusting the dark is not the end but the beginning.
Why We Crave Shortcuts
I get it. We live in an Amazon Prime culture. Two days? Try two hours. We expect sermons to “fix” us, devotionals to “inspire” us, and church programs to “grow” us instantly.
But James, the brother of Jesus, didn’t say, “Count it all joy when you have a quick fix.” He said, “Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything” (James 1:4).
Perseverance doesn’t come from microwave moments; it comes from crockpot seasons — the long, slow simmer of everyday faithfulness.
Brian McLaren put it bluntly: “The great spiritual challenge is not to fast-forward through life’s struggles, but to stay awake in them long enough to be transformed.”
Slow is Not Failure
Some of us feel like we’re behind. We look at Instagram-perfect Christians and think, “Why am I not there yet?” But Jesus never said, “Follow me and you’ll arrive in three easy steps.”
He said, “Take up your cross daily” (Luke 9:23). Daily isn’t glamorous. Daily doesn’t trend. Daily is dishes and prayers whispered on the drive to work. Daily is forgiving again, showing up again, choosing love again.
And yet — daily is where roots sink deep.
Barbara Brown Taylor wrote, “Wisdom is not acquired in a day, or even a decade. It ripens slowly, and only in the company of suffering and grace.” That’s not failure. That’s the holy slowness of a God who is not in a hurry but is endlessly faithful.
When We Try to Rush the Process
Ever eaten bread pulled out of the oven too soon? Doughy in the middle, disappointing. That’s what happens when we try to rush the Spirit’s work. We get half-baked faith — loud on the outside but hollow within.
The psalmist knew the better way: “Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him” (Psalm 37:7).
Patience is not passive — it’s active trust. It’s saying, “God, you know the pace. You know the process. I’ll stay in the oven as long as it takes.”
So How Do We Live This Out?
Choose slowness on purpose. Put down the phone. Sit with Scripture like you would a friend. Don’t rush to “finish.”
Trust the hidden work. Just because you don’t see fruit today doesn’t mean roots aren’t growing.
Celebrate small faithfulness. Every prayer, every act of love, every choice to forgive — these are the slow bricks that build maturity.
Richard Rohr said it best: “The most countercultural thing we can do is embrace the ordinary and let it transform us.”
Final Thought
Microwaves are great for leftovers. But if you want a feast, you need time, heat, and patience. The same goes for your soul. Spiritual maturity is a slow-cooked miracle, not a fast-food promise.
The question isn’t, “How fast can I get there?” The real question is, “Am I willing to stay long enough for love to do its deep work in me?”
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