In our First Reading today, Isaiah gives us an image that kind of sticks with us. He tells us about a stump. Not a tree grown tall, lifting its branches toward the sky. Not a young sapling full of energy and a symbol of vitality. Nope, he talks about a stump. Something cut down. Something that looks finished. And then the Prophet dares to tell us that the Lord will use that stump to bring about new life.

That raises a question for us during this Advent season. What are the stumps in our lives? Where do we feel cut down, tired, or convinced that nothing new can happen? Where do we feel dead or lifeless?

For some, the stump might be a habit that we can’t seem to shake no matter what we try. For others, it might be a relationship that has become strained, a love that has grown cold. On the spiritual level, it might be a dryness in our relationship with the Lord that leaves us wondering if He even notices us at all. It could be disappointment, resentment, or a fear that keeps circling our minds and hearts. These are all places and circumstances that we so often try to avoid, the thing we stop praying about because we think this is just how it is and nothing is ever going to change.

And yet, these are the areas of our lives that Jesus desires to enter the most. They are the places God loves to bring His healing. Isaiah says a shoot will sprout. But he doesn’t say when or how. He simply tells us that God can bring life from what looks hopeless.

And notice something here…this is something I thought about as I was praying with this reading earlier this week. There is a beautiful irony in how this prophecy unfolds in the life of Jesus. What do I mean? Isaiah promises that the Messiah will sprout from a stump, the old lineage of Jesse which brought forth David as the King of Israel. Jesus is the fulfillment of that promise; He is the one who had come to bring us Eternal Life. But how did He do that?

Centuries after this prophecy was spoken, Jesus gives his life on a tree that had been cut down, a piece of wood shaped into a cross. And so, the Savior who springs from a stump ends his earthly life on another dead piece of wood. Yet that tree becomes the place where the entire world is offered that newness of life. The instrument of death and torture becomes the place where grace explodes into resurrection. The point is: God is always overturning expectations. He brings forth life from some place we never expect.

That is why Advent matters. Advent trains us to trust that in the Lord, to believe with all our heart that He is working in the unlikeliest of places; He doesn’t just act in those areas of our lives where we have everything together, those bright and polished spots. Growth and change often begin before we can even see it. Roots starts to form and take hold in the darkness of the earth long before anything breaks through the surface. The same is true for us. God faithfully works in the quiet, in the unseen, in the stillness.

That leads us back to the question I asked a few moments ago: where does God want to bring new growth in us? What parts of our lives look like a stump but is capable of becoming something more?

Don’t choose the comfortable answer, don’t choose to keep the status quo. Step into faith and courage. Choose the stump that really needs the attention, the one thing we know we need to change. The part of our hearts that feel tired or worn. The place where hope has faded. Take that stump to prayer and ask Jesus to bring new life there. Ask Him to let grace take root where there is hurt, to let strength grow where there is weakness, and to let hope rise where we have settled for less.

Because the God who brought a Savior from a stump and turned a cross into the tree of life can certainly bring newness of life into our hearts. He can make a shoot sprout in us as well…if we let Him.

Photo: Stump, by Patrick Stillhart. Used under Unsplash license.