The Stump That Wouldn’t Give Up: An Easter Reflection

 

Last year, we made the difficult decision to cut down the tree in our front yard. It wasn’t something we wanted to do, but the heart of the tree had died. The trunk was hollowing out from the inside, and we grew concerned that it might eventually topple in a storm — possibly onto the road, the driveway, or even the my uncle’s house. For the safety of our family and anyone passing by, we did what we felt we had to do.

I remember watching as the saw cut through that trunk. It felt so final. The tree that had once provided shade, beauty, and even a home for birds and squirrels was reduced to a stump. I thought the story of that tree was over.

But nature has a way of surprising us.

As time went on, when I glanced toward where the stump still sits, I noticed something unexpected. Not one, not two, but three strong shoots had sprouted from the base of what looked like a dead and finished tree. In just one winter, these shoots had shot up over six feet tall, standing straight and strong, as if to declare, “We are not done yet!”

And as I stood there looking at them, the symbolism struck me — especially this time of year, so close to Easter.

The number three is significant in so many ways, but in this moment it reminded me of the Trinity: God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. Three distinct, yet one in essence, just like these shoots — separate in form, but rooted in the same source.

What I thought was dead was not dead at all. Beneath the surface, the roots had held on to life. When the visible part of the tree had been cut away, the unseen part had quietly been preparing for new growth.

Isn’t that the message of Easter?

When Jesus was crucified, the world thought it was finished. His friends and followers watched Him suffer and die on the cross, and then saw His body laid in a tomb. “Then Jesus, calling out with a loud voice, said, ‘Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!’ And having said this he breathed his last.” (Luke 23:46, ESV). Darkness and silence followed. From every human perspective, the story was over.

But God was not finished.

On the third day, the women came to the tomb and found the stone rolled away. An angel declared, “Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen.” (Luke 24:5-6, ESV). Jesus rose from the dead, conquering sin and death, and offering new life to all who would believe. As Paul wrote, “We know that Christ, being raised from the dead, will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him.” (Romans 6:9, ESV). What looked like an ending was actually the greatest beginning the world has ever known. And Jesus Himself assures us, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live.” (John 11:25, ESV).

This truth is echoed in nature, and even in the stump of a tree.

The Apostle Paul writes in Romans 8:11:

“If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you,
he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who lives in you.”

And Jesus Himself said in John 12:24:

“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.”

Sometimes in life we face seasons where it feels like everything has been cut down — hopes dashed, dreams lost, relationships broken, and futures uncertain. It’s easy to look at the “stumps” in our lives and think the story is over.

But Easter teaches us something else entirely. The story is never over when God is involved. Resurrection is at the heart of who He is. The same power that raised Christ from the grave is alive and working in the lives of His people.

And just like that tree in my front yard — rooted deeply, quietly persistent, and powerfully connected — our lives are held securely in God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Three in one, working together to breathe new life into what looks lifeless.

This Easter season, as you see signs of spring and new growth emerging from the earth, I invite you to reflect on the truth that hope is never really gone. God is always at work, even beneath the surface, and new life is His specialty.

Let the three shoots of that old tree stump remind you:
When the world says, “It’s over,” God says, “I’m just getting started.”

Sunday is here....

 

Garden Tomb 2022

I've undergone the biopsy, and now I find myself in the anxious waiting period for the results. It's a time when your mind can't help but run through all the possible scenarios, leading you down countless rabbit holes of what-ifs. As I lay awake, unable to sleep—a departure from my usual nature—I confess openly: I tend to be a bit of a control freak. It's one of my many shortcomings, a sin, if you will. I refuse to be caught off guard by unexpected twists of fate; I strive to be prepared for anything. Over the years, I've learned that keeping my thoughts in check and staying occupied is one way to manage this anxiety. So, I turn to Mr. Google and Miss YouTube, seeking to understand fully the potential diagnoses, treatment options, and outcomes that may lie ahead.

But amidst the flurry of information-seeking, I find myself drawn to a more fundamental practice: prayer. Sometimes, I'm at a loss for words, though my health naturally weighs heavy on my mind. There's only so much one can discuss with God on that front. So, I broaden my focus, praying for all the people in my life who need support: those in need of protection, those who are lost or struggling, those facing health challenges, the unemployed, the discouraged, the oppressed. Theologically, I understand that God is in control of everything. Yet, in my heart, I struggle to relinquish a semblance of that control, a desire which borders on sinful.

I recognize that sin runs deeper than mere external actions; it resides in the innermost recesses of our hearts, shaping our motivations, desires, and ultimately, our actions. Our hearts reflect who we are, and what's within them inevitably spills out into our words and deeds. Therefore, it's crucial to guard our hearts diligently, for they are the wellspring of life.

Without Christ, our hearts turn inward, consumed by self-worship and driven by selfish desires. But in the essence of Christmas lies the hope of Easter—a hope that transforms our lives and offers us a new birth into the fullness of who we were created to be. We were fashioned to worship and commune with a Creator who knows us intimately, who has already planned our futures before we even took our first steps.

In moments of uncertainty, like being told we may have cancer, we can find solace in the arms of a loving Father and the support of a caring community. We can trust that God has already taken care of every detail; our task is simply to turn to Him in faith, relying on His grace and mercy. In doing so, we find freedom from the internal battles that rage within us.

For now, I've received good news, but regardless of the outcome, I'm comforted by the knowledge that my future is secure in the hands of a faithful Father. My focus shifts from myself to Him, trusting in His provision and guidance. For this is the reason for Easter. It is a reminder Jesus came to restore our relationship with our Father and Creator.

As in water face reflects face, so the heart of man reflects the man. Proverbs 27:19

Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life. Proverbs 4:23.