"Not Over Yet" - Sermon for Easter, April 20, 2025

 

Not Over Yet

Isaiah 65:17-25; Luke 24:1-12

First in the series “Rise Up”

View Contemporary service

View Traditional service

The spring before I started seminary, I thought I had it all lined up.

I had polished my resume, submitted it through the seminary’s process, prayed, and waited — hoping for a student pastor position that would give me a place to serve and help cover the cost of school.

But appointment season came and went… and nothing happened. No phone calls. No inquiries. No interviews.

Even after my pastor personally handed my resume to the District Superintendent and said, "You need to call him," — still nothing.

Meanwhile, I had already resigned from my full-time teaching job. The countdown to the new school year was ticking, and without a position, I had no income — just the looming prospect of $30,000 to $40,000 in student loan debt.

One evening after work, the District Superintendent finally called.

He offered me two churches.

One didn’t feel like a good fit.
The other was knee-deep in conflict and turmoil.

With a heavy heart, I said no to both.

And after I hung up the phone, the anxiety rushed in like a flood.

I felt disappointed, sad, and full of second-guessing.
"Maybe I should’ve just taken something. Maybe I’ll never get another chance. I don’t know what I’m going to do."

It felt like the story was over before it even really began.

I didn’t know it at the time, but that feeling — that heavy, heart-sinking fear that the future had slipped away — isn’t just my story.

It’s something we all face at some point.

Whether you're 8 years old or 88, life gives us moments that feel like dead ends.

Maybe for you, it wasn’t a job or a calling — maybe it was the news from the doctor’s office, or the child who drifted away, or the dream you poured your heart into that didn’t turn out the way you prayed it would.

Seniors among us know the feeling — watching the world change so fast and wondering if you’re still needed.

Parents know it too — worrying about your kids in a world that feels more chaotic and uncertain every year.

Maybe you’ve lived through the moment when hope felt like it died.

Maybe you’re living through it right now.

And if you are, you’re not alone.

We all know what it’s like to feel like the story is over.

But today — Easter reminds us that even when it feels like the end... even when it feels like everything you hoped for is sealed behind a stone...

God is not finished.

It’s not over yet.

In Isaiah’s day, the people of Israel had finally come home from exile.

For seventy years they had dreamed about it.
They imagined rebuilding their lives, their homes, their temple, their future.

But when they returned, the reality was crushing:

·                Jerusalem was still in ruins.

·                The temple — once magnificent — was gone.

·                Their economy was shattered.

·                Foreign rulers still controlled their fate.

·                Other people lived on their ancestral land.

Instead of triumph, they found rubble.
Instead of joy, they faced discouragement.

Some of the older generation wept aloud when they saw the new temple foundation — because it was so much smaller than what they remembered (Ezra 3:12–13).

It felt like the best days were behind them.

Into that disappointment, God spoke through Isaiah:

"See, I am creating new heavens and a new earth. The former things will not be remembered, nor will they come to mind." (Isaiah 65:17)

God wasn’t offering a repair job.

God was promising a new creation — a future so full of joy and life that the past wounds would be forgotten.

When your story feels finished, God says, "I'm just getting started."

Fast forward to that first Easter morning.

Imagine the women walking to the tomb:

·                Their hearts broken.

·                Their dreams buried with Jesus.

·                Their hope sealed behind a stone.

They had watched Jesus arrested like a criminal.
They had stood helpless at the cross.
They had seen His body sealed behind the stone in the grave.

In their culture, crucifixion wasn’t just execution — it was total humiliation and erasure.

To them, it didn’t just look like Jesus had died. It looked like hope itself had died.

They came to the tomb that morning not to find a miracle — but to honor a corpse.

But when they arrived, the stone was rolled away.

And the angel asked: "Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen!" (Luke 24:5–6)

The first-century expectation was resurrection at the end of time — not here, not now, not for one man. And yet, that’s what it was – resurrection! Jesus’ resurrection was God’s future crashing into the present. New creation had already begun — starting with the resurrected Jesus.

Just like that — life can rise out of loss.

Just ask Bethany Hamilton.

Bethany was just 13 years old, a rising surfing star in Hawaii, when her life changed forever.

One morning, while surfing with friends, a 14-foot tiger shark attacked her — and in a matter of moments, Bethany lost her left arm.

Doctors told her she was lucky to be alive. Others said her surfing career was surely over.

The recovery was slow and painful — learning how to balance, how to paddle, how to do everyday things most of us take for granted.

But Bethany never gave up. Her deep faith in Jesus Christ gave her strength when her own strength ran out. She has said that her relationship with God was the anchor that held her together when everything else was torn apart.

Just one month after the attack, Bethany was back in the water — learning a new way to surf. Within two years, she was competing professionally.

Today, she shares her story around the world — not just as a champion surfer, but as a living witness that faith, perseverance, and hope are stronger than anything life can throw at us.[i]

Bethany's story reminds us: With Christ, no loss has the final word. It’s not over yet.

The Resurrection is God's declaration that endings are never final when God is involved. New life isn’t just possible — it’s already breaking in.

But this resurrection hope isn’t just a story from ancient times. It’s still happening today.

Take Jorge Valdés.

By his twenties, Jorge had everything the world promises would satisfy—mansions, yachts, millions of dollars. As head of U.S. operations for Colombia’s Medellín drug cartel, he had power, wealth, and influence beyond most people's dreams.

But underneath the surface, Jorge was miserable. Empty. Lost. He later described his life as a constant state of fear, loneliness, and regret.

It would’ve been easy to assume his story was over—trapped by choices too terrible to undo.

But God had another plan.

Through the persistent love and prayers of a Christian friend, Jorge encountered Jesus Christ—and everything changed.

He left the cartel behind.

He served time in prison, yes—but there he began studying the Bible, eventually earning a Ph.D. in New Testament studies. Today, he shares his story around the world, helping others find freedom through faith.

Jorge’s life reminds us: no past is too broken, no heart is too hard, and no story is too finished for God.

If God can raise a drug lord into a disciple, what could God do with your story?

Whether it's tragic loss like Bethany’s, or the brokenness of bad choices like Jorge’s, the resurrection message is still the same:
It’s not over yet.

And sometimes, even when we think our best days are long behind us, God reminds us otherwise.

Let me tell you about Fred Stobaugh...

Fred was 96 years old when he entered a songwriting contest — even though he wasn’t a musician.

Fred had recently lost Lorraine, his beloved wife of 73 years. The grief was heavy. He missed her smile, her laughter, their daily life together.

So, Fred sat down and did the only thing he could think to do:
He wrote a love song for her — by hand — titled "Oh Sweet Lorraine."

He mailed it in with a simple letter, not expecting anything. But the producers were so moved by his words that they professionally recorded his song. It went viral.           

Fred — at 96 years old — became the oldest person ever to appear on the Billboard Hot 100. [ii]

His dream wasn’t dead.
His love wasn’t forgotten.
His story wasn’t over yet.

Fred reminds us: If you’re still breathing, God’s still working. It’s not over yet.

The Resurrection is God's declaration that endings are never final when God is involved. New life isn’t just possible — it’s already breaking in.

Here are four action steps you can take this week to live into Easter hope:

1. Rise Up with Christ by Committing or Recommitting Your Life to Him. Pray and trust Jesus with your life and your future.

2. Create a "Not Over Yet" List. Write down three areas where you feel stuck — and one hopeful step you could take for each.

3. Take One Bold Step Toward a Dormant Dream. Restart something you once hoped for: sign up, reach out, begin again.

4. Invest Your Time in Someone Else’s Rising. Volunteer, encourage, serve someone else who needs hope.

Easter isn't just news to hear.

It’s an invitation to answer.

If you are ready today to move from despair to hope, from regret to renewal, from death to life — Jesus is calling your name.

You don't have to clean yourself up first.
You don't have to fix everything first.

Just come.

Come to the empty tomb.

Come to the risen Savior.

Today is the perfect day to rise up with Him.

Will you say yes?

If today you want to step into the new life Jesus offers — for the first time, or as a way of recommitting yourself — I invite you to pray along with me, in your heart or out loud.

Let’s pray.

God of life and hope,

Today I hear you calling me.

I bring you the places in my life that feel stuck, broken, or finished.
I bring you my regrets, my disappointments, my fears.

And I dare to believe — because of Jesus — that it’s not over yet.

Jesus, I trust You.
I believe You are alive.
I believe You can bring new life to me, too.

Forgive me.
Raise me up.
Lead me forward.

Today, I rise up with You.
Today, I begin again in You.

Thank You for the hope that nothing — not even death — can defeat.

In Your risen name I pray,
Amen
.



[i] Hamilton, Bethany. Soul Surfer: A True Story of Faith, Family, and Fighting to Get Back on the Board, 2004

[ii] NPR, "Fred Stobaugh and 'Oh Sweet Lorraine': The Man Behind the Song", 2013

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

"Purchase with a Purpose": Rummage Sale, Bake Sale, Lunch - June 6 & 7, 2025

Daily Devotion - Monday, July 7, 2025 - "Jesus at the Lake" - John 21:1-14

"Love beyond Limits" - Message for 5/18/2025