New Life in God
POST AUTHOR | POST PUBLISH DATE
Two Forms of New Life

While on Retreat with my church, we were encouraged to find a place of solitude and be still in the presence of God. As I found my space, I noticed a tree stump nearby. There was nothing left of it to show any resemblance of the tree that once stood, yet it had new growth coming out of one side and flowers on the verge of blooming.
During a time when Israel was experiencing destruction and exile because of their rebellion and disobedience, God still brought a message of hope in the form of a tree stump.
Isaiah 6:13 (TPT) says “Yet if even a tenth remains there, it will be burned again. It will be like a fallen oak or terebinth tree when it is felled; the stump still lives to grow again. Now the stump is the holy seed.”
The oak and terebinth trees are both known to be able to produce new shoots even after they’ve been cut down to a stump. Isaiah is describing the stump as “the seed of holiness,” meaning it’s not the end but a new beginning.
As you read through this, I encourage you to identify how it may relate to your life and the season you’re in.
New Life in God
“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”
Isaiah 43:19 NIV
“I am doing something brand new, something unheard of.
Even now it sprouts and grows and matures. Don’t you perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness and open up flowing streams in the desert.”
Isaiah 43:19 TPT
As I sit amongst the trees, I can’t help but notice how much life is springing up through the remnants of death left behind by the harsh winter or storms that have passed.
There are countless trees that have fallen, telling stories of faltered strength, shallow roots, or death that consumed them from inside. The ground is littered with branches that disconnected from their tree of life. No longer able to withstand the storm, their legacy is all that remains.
With every step taken, the crisp crunch of the fallen leaves fills the air. There are thousands of them who once clothed the trees with their beauty and danced as the wind whispered their name. They now cover the ground, just a memory of the life they once reflected.
As I look up, there are still a few clinging to the branch that gave them life. They’ll remain there until that final gust of wind comes and carries them away for good, no longer able to hold on.
Yet, in that same moment, there is life springing up all around me. It is in the white blooming dogwood, a stark contrast to the browns and greys surrounding them. You can see it in the bright green leaves as new growth appears on the trees that endured the harsh winter. You can even hear it as the birds cry out and frogs and crickets sing.
As I soak in the beauty around me, I notice something that causes me to pause; there are two forms of new life emerging. The first is the same life being reborn. This is found in the flowers and leaves emerging on the trees that sustain them.
The other is a new, different form of life springing up from the death that was left behind. This can be seen in the moss growing on the bark of a fallen tree and in the little purple flowers emerging from the dead leaves scattered across the ground.
As I pause and silently reflect, I hear God whisper, “Sometimes the new life is a resurrection of things that appear to have died. Other times, something entirely new springs forth from the remnants of what death left behind. Don’t be afraid if the new life springing up inside you looks different. It might be my way of redeeming what brought death to your life and using it for good and my Glory.”