Hope Still Wins
Tammy Trent
September 15, 2025
Each year around this time, I step away to celebrate the life Trent is living in heaven and to thank the Lord for all He’s
What began as a simple story about a tree ended up stirring something deeper in me. If you’ve ever walked through a hard season, felt the weight of unanswered prayers, or wondered if God was still working behind the scenes… I think this might speak to you too.
It’s a little reminder of the quiet ways He brings new life—even when we least expect it.
I bought this tree and had it planted three years ago in my front yard after having to remove an old one. It was a beautiful Autumn Blaze maple, already a good size when it arrived. I envisioned it growing tall, providing shade, and becoming something strong and lasting.
I’ve been watching it the way some people watch a miracle. Not all at once—but slowly. Quietly. Prayerfully.
It’s about 15 feet tall now. Strong, bold, and beautiful.
But last year… I wasn’t sure it would survive.
The signs of Verticillium wilt showed up everywhere. Branches thinning. Leaves curling and falling. All the experts told me it wouldn’t make it—as I watched death try to take hold.
I prayed over that tree more times than I can count—asking God to let it live. Not because it’s just a tree… but because it had come to represent something much deeper.
I’ve known loss.
I’ve prayed for miracles.
I’ve felt the ache of life.
I’ve walked through grief that stripped things bare.
I’ve stood in the silence of unanswered questions—watching hope fade in something you cared deeply about.
So when I saw signs of disease in that tree, it felt personal. Like another thing slipping away—something I had been carefully tending.
But then came this year.
After a long winter and a slow start to spring… the branches began to push.
New shoots. New leaves. New life.
Even on branches that had shown signs of dying last year—bright red leaves emerged at the tips. Two feet of fresh, bold growth where disease had once settled in. I had to cut off one small dead section, yes—but the rest? It’s thriving. The tree is looking strong so far. And for now, it’s winning the battle.
But with each leaf that falls too soon, I’ll keep praying that life keeps pushing through those branches.
And I’ll keep praising God through it all.
Because what He’s doing in that tree right now is a reminder of what He’s constantly doing in us, too.
He continues to bring new life in every season.
It might look different than what we expected, but new life is still happening.
Sometimes we just have to slow down and look for it.
He’s quietly resurrecting things we thought we might have to bury.
It’s a tree. But it’s also a testimony.
Because sometimes, God doesn’t move all at once—He moves season by season.
And if we look closely enough, we’ll see that healing and hope don’t always shout…
Sometimes, they whisper through leaves.
So today, I’m thanking Him for the tree that’s alive.
And the parts of us that are still alive—living, breathing, growing, and thriving, even after what we’ve been through.
If you’re in a hard season…
If something you love feels uncertain or broken…
If you’re waiting…
If life feels silent…
Let this be a gentle reminder: God still breathes life into what looks hopeless.
He sees what’s hurting.
He knows what’s healing.
And He can handle every question, every tear, every doubt.
No prayer is too small.
No heart is too heavy.
He hears. He sees. And He cares deeply—because He cares so much about you.
God doesn’t disappear when it gets dark.
He draws near.
Not always with answers—but always with His presence.
And somehow, even here… He’s still good.
So let’s keep watering the soil.
Keep watching the sky.
Keep trusting Jesus.
Because resurrection and redemption might already be pushing through…
October 1, 2025 – Private Event
October 24-25, 2025 – Lubbock, TX
November 14-15, 2025 – Craig, CO
December 3-5, 2025 – Holland, MI
Each year around this time, I step away to celebrate the life Trent is living in heaven and to thank the Lord for all He’s