The Danger of Disconnectedness

Grace and peace, church family. I pray this finds you well and reflecting on another holiday season that has come and gone.

One of the final tasks of the Christmas season in our home is taking down the tree. This year, as I dragged our once-beautiful live Christmas tree out of our front door and toward the curb, I found myself reflecting more than usual.

For as long as I’ve known her, my wife, Nycki, has always loved a live tree for Christmas. And for almost as long, I’ve made a compelling (or so I think) case for artificial trees: they look live, don’t shed needles and don’t require daily watering. Yet, for her 33rd year in a row, she won the live tree discussion. Just around Thanksgiving, we found our latest tree, and it truly was a beauty.

Full. Green. Alive.

At the beginning, we watered it faithfully. But as the weeks went on, we thought about watering it less. Christmas came and went. What we were left with after the holidays was, well, a very not-live tree.

Here’s what struck me as I dragged the tree from our living room, out of the front door and to the curb: The tree didn’t die because we ignored it completely at the end of the holiday season. It died because it was no longer connected to its source of life.

Scripture reminds us how vital that connection is.

Jesus says, “I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:5). Paul echoes this when he urges believers to be “rooted and built up in Him” (Colossians 2:7). And Psalm 1 paints the picture beautifully — a life rooted in God is like a tree planted by streams of water, yielding fruit in season.

Friends, faith doesn’t wither from a single moment of neglect. It fades when connection slowly gives way to distance. My prayer for us as we begin a new year together is simple: May we stay rooted. Abiding. Connected to the Word and the presence of Christ. Because here is the good news — that is the life that truly lasts.

See you Sunday,

— Mark