Reflection: Where We See Only Stumps, God Sees Life

Fr. Eseese 'Ace' Tui • December 2, 2025

Tuesday of the First Week of Advent


REFLECTION:

There are seasons in life when we come face to face with something that feels cut down. We look at a part of our life—our work, a relationship, a dream, even our own spirit—and it feels like it has been reduced to a stump. Something that once grew tall and strong now seems lifeless, barren, or broken. We stand before it and wonder how anything good could possibly come from this place again.


Israel knew this feeling well. In Isaiah’s time, the mighty house of David had fallen into decline. The spiritual life of the nation was weak. Their political hopes were collapsing. The proud tree of David’s royal line had been cut down. All that remained was a stump—dry, forgotten, seemingly useless. From a human perspective, the story was over.

But Isaiah invites us to see as God sees. Into this hopeless landscape, he proclaims a promise that defies logic: “A shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse.” New life will rise from what appeared dead. A fresh beginning will emerge from what looked finished. God can bring growth out of ground we have given up on. This is the heart of Isaiah’s message and the heart of our faith: God brings life where we see only stumps.


What makes this prophecy even more profound is that it acknowledges something honest about the spiritual life. Sometimes, growth requires letting something go. Sometimes something has to be cut down or pruned so that new life has space to emerge. A branch that once bore fruit may now hinder the tree. A pattern, a fear, a resentment, a plan, or even an old identity may need to fall away so that God can create something better. Letting go can feel like loss, but in God’s hands, it becomes preparation. The stump that remains is not a symbol of failure—it is the soil of transformation.


God can work with what is left. He can take what looks useless or beyond repair and shape it into something new. A heart that feels tired can learn to hope again. A spirit that feels discouraged can experience renewal. A community that has endured hardship can discover unexpected unity and strength. God does not need a perfect tree to begin His work; He needs only a stump, something humble and honest, something willing to be His.


This is why the coming of the Messiah is described not as a full-grown tree but as a small shoot. God’s greatest work begins in what the world considers small, weak, or insignificant. Jesus is born not in a palace but in a stable. Salvation rises not from a throne but from a cross. Resurrection bursts forth from a tomb—a place that should have been the end. Again and again, God reminds us: what looks dead to us is never dead to Him.


So today, if you find yourself looking at an area of your life that feels cut down, do not lose heart. The stump is not the end of the story. It may be the very place where God is preparing to do something new, something quiet but powerful, something small but full of promise. Trust the God who brings life from stumps, who turns endings into beginnings, who works miracles in hidden soil.



Where we see only stumps, God sees a garden waiting to grow.