In the morning, as they went along, they saw the fig tree withered from the roots. Peter remembered and said to Jesus, “Rabbi, look! The fig tree you cursed has withered!”
“Have faith in God,” Jesus answered. “Truly I tell you, if anyone says to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and does not doubt in their heart but believes that what they say will happen, it will be done for them. Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours. And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive them, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins.
Mark 11:20-26 NRSV
There’s something deeply human about the image in this passage: the disciples walking along a familiar road and suddenly noticing that the fig tree Jesus had spoken to was completely withered from the roots. What had once been full of life was now dry, brittle, and beyond recovery.
Peter points it out almost with surprise: “Rabbi, look! The fig tree you cursed has withered!”
And Jesus’ response feels almost unexpected. He doesn’t explain the tree. He doesn’t dwell on the miracle. Instead, He turns their attention to something much deeper: faith.
“Have faith in God.”
It’s such a simple sentence, but it carries enormous weight. Jesus isn’t talking about wishful thinking or forcing ourselves to believe something hard enough that it becomes true. He is talking about a deep, rooted trust… the kind that rests fully in God’s power, goodness, and timing.
I think many of us know what it feels like to have “withered places” in our lives. Places where hope has dried up. Relationships that feel strained or broken. Prayers that seem unanswered. Dreams that didn’t turn out the way we expected. We often walk past these areas quietly, trying not to look too closely.
But this passage reminds us that God is not afraid of what looks dead or beyond repair. In fact, Jesus uses this very moment to teach that faith can move what feels immovable. Even mountains.
And yet, what strikes me most is that Jesus doesn’t stop with faith alone. He immediately connects prayer with forgiveness.
“When you stand praying, forgive, if you hold anything against anyone.”
That connection can feel uncomfortable. It’s much easier to pray for change in our circumstances than to examine the grudges we might be carrying. But Jesus makes it clear: faith and forgiveness cannot be separated.
Holding onto bitterness is like gripping a weight that keeps our hearts tethered to the very pain we want God to heal. It hardens us. It quietly drains our spiritual vitality. In a way, unforgiveness creates its own kind of withering within us.
Forgiveness, however, is not about excusing harm or pretending hurt didn’t happen. It is about releasing the burden into God’s hands. It is choosing freedom over resentment. It is trusting that God sees, knows, and will ultimately bring justice and healing.
When we forgive, something remarkable happens: our hearts become open again. Open to peace, open to hope, open to the movement of God.
This passage invites us to ask some honest questions. Where in our lives do we feel like something has withered? Where do we struggle to trust God fully? And is there someone we need to forgive so that our hearts can be unburdened?
Jesus’ words remind us that faith is not about having everything together. It’s about turning toward God with whatever we have: our doubts, our wounds, our hopes.. and trusting God to do what only God can do.
Even in the most barren places, God can bring new life.
Rakel Engles is a wife and mom to three amazing kiddos, passionate about building connection, serving others, and strengthening her community.