The Jesse Tree: Day 20
WHITE LILY
If you’ve ever walked past a white lily in bloom, you know it has a way of making you stop. It’s simple, almost understated, but you can’t help but notice. It doesn’t scream for attention like a neon billboard or the latest viral TikTok dance. Instead, it radiates quiet elegance and life. In the story we find in Luke, Mary herself is a kind of white lily: humble, radiant with God’s promise, and moving into the world in obedience and faith.
Mary, just visited by the angel Gabriel, gets up immediately and travels from the north of Israel down to the hill country of Judah. That’s a journey of at least two days on foot, through rough terrain, likely with sandals and a bundle of uncertainty tucked under her arm. She’s carrying news that would shake the world: her child is part of God’s promise of salvation. And she’s going to deliver it to Elizabeth, her older relative, who is herself in the late stages of a miraculous pregnancy.
Mary arrives, and something extraordinary happens. Elizabeth, filled with the Spirit, recognizes Mary’s news before she even speaks it. And even her unborn child reacts; leaping in joy, sensing what Mary carries in her womb.
This is where the white lily comes in. In Christian symbolism, the lily represents purity, hope, and new life. It’s not flashy, not over-the-top, not demanding attention, but it quietly changes the space it occupies. Mary is like that lily. She doesn’t announce herself with grandeur; she doesn’t march in with a banner saying, “Look, God has chosen me!” She simply moves in faith, carrying grace.
There’s a lesson here for Advent. This season is about anticipation, yes, but also about movement. Mary moves toward Elizabeth, toward connection, toward confirmation of God’s work in both their lives. Grace is relational, it flows from one life to another. It’s not meant to be hoarded. Think about it: lilies don’t hide their fragrance. They release it freely into the air for anyone willing to notice.
Now, here’s where it gets personal. We’re often hesitant to share our faith, worried that we’re too ordinary, too unprepared, or too out of step with the culture around us. But Mary shows us that the ordinary, when surrendered to God, can become extraordinary. She’s a reminder that you don’t need a throne or a pulpit to be part of God’s story. You just need to move when He calls.
Mary, just visited by the angel Gabriel, gets up immediately and travels from the north of Israel down to the hill country of Judah. That’s a journey of at least two days on foot, through rough terrain, likely with sandals and a bundle of uncertainty tucked under her arm. She’s carrying news that would shake the world: her child is part of God’s promise of salvation. And she’s going to deliver it to Elizabeth, her older relative, who is herself in the late stages of a miraculous pregnancy.
Mary arrives, and something extraordinary happens. Elizabeth, filled with the Spirit, recognizes Mary’s news before she even speaks it. And even her unborn child reacts; leaping in joy, sensing what Mary carries in her womb.
This is where the white lily comes in. In Christian symbolism, the lily represents purity, hope, and new life. It’s not flashy, not over-the-top, not demanding attention, but it quietly changes the space it occupies. Mary is like that lily. She doesn’t announce herself with grandeur; she doesn’t march in with a banner saying, “Look, God has chosen me!” She simply moves in faith, carrying grace.
There’s a lesson here for Advent. This season is about anticipation, yes, but also about movement. Mary moves toward Elizabeth, toward connection, toward confirmation of God’s work in both their lives. Grace is relational, it flows from one life to another. It’s not meant to be hoarded. Think about it: lilies don’t hide their fragrance. They release it freely into the air for anyone willing to notice.
Now, here’s where it gets personal. We’re often hesitant to share our faith, worried that we’re too ordinary, too unprepared, or too out of step with the culture around us. But Mary shows us that the ordinary, when surrendered to God, can become extraordinary. She’s a reminder that you don’t need a throne or a pulpit to be part of God’s story. You just need to move when He calls.
Pause to reflect
Where might God be calling you to carry His presence into someone else’s life this Advent season?
How can you better order your life around the privilege of sharing Christ with your friends, neighbors, and colleagues?
How can you better order your life around the privilege of sharing Christ with your friends, neighbors, and colleagues?
Lord, help us to bloom like the white lily this Advent: humble, faithful, and radiant with Your presence. Give us courage to move, to carry Your grace into the lives of those around us, and to recognize Your work in the ordinary moments. Teach us to share Christ freely, joyfully, and without hesitation. Amen.
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