The Elm That Wouldn't Die

In downtown Oklahoma City, an American Elm stands in the northwest corner of the National Memorial. Before April 19, 1995, nobody paid it much attention — just a parking lot shade tree. Then Timothy McVeigh's bomb tore through the Murrah Federal Building, killing 168 people. The blast scorched the elm black, drove shrapnel into its trunk, and snapped its branches. Investigators used it to hang evidence bags. Everyone assumed it was dead.

But the following spring, the charred elm pushed out green leaves.

Today they call it the Survivor Tree. Every year, the memorial collects its seeds and grows saplings, then sends them to communities that have endured their own tragedies — to Newtown, to Boston, to Joplin. Each sapling carries a small tag: "This tree was grown from seeds of the Survivor Tree in Oklahoma City. It is a symbol of the strength and resilience of those who survived, and the hope for a meaningful tomorrow."

That is what God did in Genesis 9. After the floodwaters receded and the earth smelled of devastation, the Almighty looked at Noah's small, shaken family and made an unconditional promise — not "if you behave," but simply "never again." Then He set the rainbow in the sky, a living sign rooted in the very atmosphere, so that every generation after destruction could look up and see proof that God remembers His covenant. The rainbow is heaven's Survivor Tree — not a reward for our faithfulness, but a testament to His.