The Fine Print: Part 4 — Rooted in Hope

Aug 25
5 min read

Isaiah 11:6–10 — “The wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat… and a little child will lead them.”

Hey friend!

Welcome to the final week of our Rooted series. I pray by now, that your roots have grown deeper. Not just in understanding, but in awareness of what it means to live a life planted in the soil of God's truth.

Let’s briefly trace our steps:

In Week One, we saw that even a stump isn’t the end when God is in the story. From what looked dead, a shoot appeared. A promise was born.
In Week Two, we explored the power of the Holy Spirit that rested on Jesus—and now rests on us.
In Week Three, we looked at the righteousness of the Branch—that Jesus doesn’t lead by appearance, but by what is true and just.

And now in Week Four, we arrive at the fruit of it all: Hope.

A Picture of Hope and Wholeness

“The wolf will live with the lamb…”

Let’s be real—this isn’t normal. In the wild, a wolf would kill a lamb. So what is Isaiah saying here? Predator and prey... peacefully coexisting? It sounds strange—almost impossible.

If you’re like me, your first thought might’ve been: “Wait, what?” You’re not alone. This verse stirs curiosity.

It forces us to pause and ask: What kind of world is this?

Isaiah is giving us a glimpse of the world as it should be under the rule of the true King. It’s a messianic prophecy—one that shows what it looks like when peace (shalom) reigns.

Not just the absence of conflict…

But the presence of complete harmony.

A world where aggressive systems, people, and even spirits are transformed.

Context Matters: Why This Vision Was Needed

Isaiah wrote this in a time of national upheaval. The kingdom had split in two—Israel in the north and Judah in the south. The people were divided. Corruption was rampant. Injustice was rising. And God's people had drifted from His ways.

The spiritual climate? Drought.

The political landscape? Shaky.

The moral compass? Off course.

Sound familiar?

And so, God—through Isaiah—paints this breathtaking picture of what’s to come.

He’s saying:

“I know things look dark now… but a day is coming when everything will be made right. Stay rooted. Don’t lose hope.”

Rooted Hope Comes from a Righteous Root

“In that day, the Root of Jesse will stand as a banner for the peoples…” —Isaiah 11:10

This “Root” isn’t just anyone. It’s Jesus—born through Jesse’s line, but also the source of Jesse himself. He is both Root and Branch. Alpha and Omega. Let that sink in.

This kind of hope isn’t vague. It isn’t “I hope things get better one day.”

Friend, please hear me—we cannot get casual with the message of Jesus.

Let’s raise our understanding: Hope is not wishful thinking. It’s anchored. It’s rooted in the unshakable, proven faithfulness of God.

When you’re rooted in Christ:

Your hope isn’t swayed by headlines.
Your joy isn’t controlled by circumstances.
Your peace isn’t dependent on people.

Because your roots aren’t in this world. They’re in Him—the One who reigns now and is coming again.

Living in the Tension of Now and Not Yet

We live in the space between promise and fulfillment. The already—but not yet.

Jesus has come. And He is coming again. This blog isn’t just reflection—it’s revival. It’s a reminder that our King is coming back for His Bride.

Wake up, Church. Shake off complacency. And until that final restoration, we live in the tension.

But we don’t live without hope.

To be Rooted in Hope means:

It means waking up some days and feeling the weight of everything that’s gone wrong—in your life, in your family, in the world—and still whispering, “God, I trust You.”

It means looking at the brokenness around you—relationships that didn’t heal, diagnoses that didn’t change, prayers that haven’t been answered yet—and refusing to let that break you. Not because you’re strong, but because your roots go deeper than the surface pain.

It means sitting in the middle of grief—real, gut-wrenching grief—the kind that makes you question what you thought you knew about joy, and choosing not to numb it or escape it, but to carry it to the feet of a Savior who wept too.

It means knowing the ache of this world intimately—feeling the loneliness in a crowded room, the discouragement that follows another “no” or “not yet”—and still believing that God isn’t distant.

It’s believing the Healer is near—even when you don’t feel Him. Even when the healing hasn’t manifested but knowing your healing was established 2000 years ago.

Rooted hope isn’t blind optimism. It’s a holy defiance. A decision to plant your feet when everything says run. A refusal to be moved by what shakes everyone else. A quiet kind of strength that grows in the dirt of disappointment—because it knows who planted the seed. Period.

Just like the soil feeds the tree, hope nourishes the soul. It anchors us in the middle of what hasn’t changed—and still calls us to believe that God is working beneath the surface.

That kind of hope doesn’t come from wishing. It comes from being planted!

Planted in truth.

Planted in Christ.

Planted in the assurance that even if the world is shaking—He is not.

So when we talk about being Rooted in Hope, we’re not just talking about someday—we’re talking about now.

Because Jesus didn’t just promise a coming Kingdom..

He told us to pray: “Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

So what does that look like—here?

It looks like peace in the middle of pressure.

Joy that doesn’t make sense.

Love that doesn’t quit.

Forgiveness that breaks cycles.

It looks like people who are rooted in Heaven while standing on earth—living, breathing evidence that the King has come…and is coming again.

Full Circle: How Hope Connects the Roots

Let’s bring it home:

Rooted in Promise reminds us God never forgets.
Rooted in Power reminds us we are not alone.
Rooted in Righteousness reminds us God leads with truth and justice.
And Rooted in Hope assures us that none of this—none of our waiting, none of our weeping—is wasted.

And the end?

Looks like wolves and lambs sharing fields.
Leopards and goats resting in peace.
A world not just surviving—but restored.

That’s where this story is going.

That’s the Kingdom we’re rooted in.

That’s the King we’re waiting for.

Prayer

Lord, Thank You, Jesus! There is no other God like You. Thank You that my hope can be rooted in You. Forgive me, Father, for the times I’ve grown complacent in my relationship with You. Strengthen my roots in Your hope. Remind me that I am in this world—but not of it. Help me stand firm and fix my eyes on You. Uproot anything that contaminates my roots. I don’t want to live from a place of selfishness, but from surrender. I trust you as thee Author of my story. Let our roots in You grow deeper so our lives can bear fruit, even in the tension.

Your Word will never return void. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Talk to you next week!

Restoration Is Coming

So friend, don’t give up. Don’t let what you see shake what you know!