"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”
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.
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