Lesson From The Daylilies
How Sin Can Lie Dormant
If you happened to drive past my house last summer, you probably couldn’t miss the daylilies lining my front porch. They were hard to overlook. Daylilies are such unassuming plants when you think about it. They begin as bulky, unattractive root bulbs—nothing about them hints at what’s to come. Yet one thing I’ve learned about daylilies is just how resilient they are. They can take a beating and still thrive.
Fueled by the summer warmth, trumpet-shaped blooms rose high into the air on stalks that often stretched taller than my porch rails. The result was a breathtaking display of color—one of those sights that makes you pause and smile. All summer long, and well into the fall, those daylilies faithfully showed up, turning my porch into a living picture of beauty and endurance.
This winter has brought with it some unusually cold days. A few mornings have greeted us with temperatures in the teens, and we’ve endured several nights hovering around twenty degrees. I’m sure those up North are rolling their eyes—maybe even laughing—because to them, this probably feels like a mild preview of spring. But to a South Georgia peach like me, this is freezing—the kind of cold that makes cities slow down and people stay put.
The daylilies in my yard certainly felt it. They didn’t take kindly to the cold at all. Their once-vibrant stalks, full of beautiful blooms, collapsed and withered away. For weeks, they looked completely done—nothing more than a distant memory of what once was. Or so I thought.
Just the other day, I noticed a small green sprout pushing its way through the soil. A daylily. After weeks of appearing dead, life was still there, quietly waiting. It’s amazing how something that looks lifeless on the surface can still be very much alive underneath—and that realization stirred a deeper reflection in me.
It makes me think about the nature of sin in our own lives. Have you ever been delivered from something, only to find yourself running right back to it—this time with even more passion than before? I know I have. That’s likely why Scripture urges us to renew our minds daily (Romans 12:2). Each day calls for intentional surrender—an emptying of self. Our prayer should continually be, “Less of me and more of You, Lord.”
But here’s where we often miss it, and usually without realizing it. We work hard to rid ourselves of pride, jealousy, anger, and other ungodly traits, yet we fail to invite God to refill those emptied spaces. When we don’t allow Him to replace what we’ve removed, those areas remain vulnerable. Sin may seem gone, but it’s often just lying dormant, waiting for the right moment to resurface—much like daylilies that spring back up at the first sign of opportunity.
Scripture tells us to lay aside every weight and the sin that so easily entangles us (Hebrews 12:1), but it doesn’t stop there. Emptying alone is not enough—we must replace. When you lay aside laziness, pick up productivity. When you’re tempted to give up, refill yourself with endurance. Release doubt, and cling tightly to faith. True transformation happens not just when we let go, but when we allow God to fill us with what only He can give.
And that’s the lesson the daylilies quietly preached to me. What appeared to be dead wasn’t destroyed—it was only dormant. Beneath the soil, life was still present, waiting for the right conditions to rise again. In the same way, sin we believe we’ve dealt with can remain hidden beneath the surface if we’re not intentional. When we empty ourselves but fail to let God refill us, we leave room for old habits, old mindsets, and old struggles to resurface when the opportunity presents itself.
God never intended for us to live partially emptied lives. He calls us to lay things down and pick something up in their place. If we don’t replace what we’ve surrendered with His truth, His strength, and His Spirit, the very thing we thought was gone can spring back up—sometimes stronger than before. Just like the daylily, sin thrives when conditions allow it.
So, the call is clear: don’t just uproot—replace. Don’t just surrender—submit. Allow God to not only remove what doesn’t belong, but to fill every space with what does. Because when He fills us, there’s no room left for dormant sin to take root again. And that’s where true freedom—and lasting growth—begins.
I truly pray today’s message has encouraged your heart and given you something meaningful to reflect on. It is always a joy to share these devotional moments with you—many drawn from my own life and lessons God continues to teach me. Thank you for reading, for your continued support, and for being part of this community.
If this Word spoke to you, I invite you to share it with someone who may need a little encouragement today. You can also stay connected with A Well-Fed Soul on Facebook and Instagram (A_Wellfed_Soul) and visit us anytime at www.awellfedsoul.com for more faith-filled inspiration.
Until next time, know that you are loved. Remember—a blessed soul is A Well-Fed Soul.
Cynthia