A lesson from the resurrection lily on the spiritual life

Dotting gardens and landscapes around Western North Carolina are resurrection lilies. They are so named because the leaves appear lush and green in February, resembling daffodils. Unlike daffodils and many other bulbs, the leaves of the resurrection lily die without blooming. It is not until September that a solitary shoot will emerge out of the barren ground and produce a spectacular bloom.  Hence the name, ‘resurrection lily’.

There are parallels between the life cycle of the resurrection lily and the cycle of consolations and desolations common in the spiritual life.  The springtime comes.  The leaves perk up filled with hope and promise after a long winter.  But there is no bloom.  The leaves wither and fade.  The vibrant spiritual life disappears. 

For the resurrection lily, dormancy was only a stage in its life cycle, not the end. The lily used the dormant time to store energy from the sun and nutrients from the soil. The lily was working hard in the dark, cold earth readying itself for a glorious reappearance.

Just as the resurrection lily uses the dormant times to store up what it needed to bloom; a person can use the time of spiritual dryness to store up graces.  Saint Ignatius says it this way: 

In desolation, it is helpful to insist on more prayer, meditation, and much examination, and by giving ourselves more in doing charitable works.  (see Spiritual Exercises, Rule 6)

In other words, when in desolation devote the same amount of time to prayer, meditation, and charity… and then add more!

My life this year followed a similar cycle as the Resurrection Lily.  In February, I started feeling it was time to leave my work and ministry at the Catholic Conference Center.  The Spring retreat season was ‘lush and green’, but I felt no bloom.  The Lord told me it was time to move on but was silent about the where and what.  

I went through what I called ‘tomb time’, buried and waiting in the dark for the stone to be rolled aside.  During this period of spiritual desolation, I followed the advice of Saint Ignatius.  I remained faithful to my prayers and even doubled down on some of my meditations and journaling practices. 

The graces stored up during this ‘tomb time’ are beginning to blossom.  The Font of Mercy is coming together nicely, and I’ve returned to some of the beloved ministries I had to abandon.  I sense a glorious bloom about to burst forth.  Deo Gratius. 

May you use your ‘tomb time’ wisely, and when you emerge, may God produce in you a magnificent bloom.