In the book of Genesis, we encounter a curious chronological detail in the life of the Patriarch Jacob. To marry Rachel, the woman he loves, he agrees to serve her father Laban for seven years. Scripture tells us these years “seemed to him but a few days because of the love he had for her” (Genesis 29:20). Yet, through deception, he is first given Leah and must labour another seven years to fully secure his life with Rachel.
Fourteen years. Two distinct cycles of seven. On the surface, this is a story of ancient courtship and familial trickery. But spiritually, it offers a profound map of the soul’s journey into maturity.
The number seven in Scripture often signifies completeness and spiritual fullness. Jacob’s two seven-year periods of labour suggest that the formation of the human heart requires two distinct phases of purification before we can fully possess the “love of our life”—true intimacy with God.
The First Seven Years: The Labour of the Will
Many of us begin our serious spiritual journey grappling with specific weaknesses or vices. We struggle, we fight, and we labour. This corresponds to the first seven years—what the spiritual tradition might call the “Purgative Way.” We are labouring to overcome the habits that bind us. It is hard work, often marked by the sweat of active discipline. We persevere because we have a goal in mind.
The Second Seven Years: The Labour of the Heart
Often, however, once the victory over a major weakness is won, we do not immediately enter into bliss. Instead, we may face a period of spiritual dryness or aridity. We have done the right things, but the feelings of consolation vanish. Prayer becomes difficult. The “fruit” of our initial labour seems to be withheld, much as Jacob was given Leah when he expected Rachel.
This second period is critical. It is where our motives are purified. Do we pray only for the good feelings (the consolation), or do we pray for God Himself? St. John of the Cross describes this as a “dark night” where God weans us from our dependency on sensory satisfaction. It is a time of waiting, of trusting, and of simply showing up when the heart feels dry.
I have found in my own walk that these two periods are not punishments, but preparations. There is a shift that happens only after we refuse to give up during the dry years. Slowly, imperceptibly, the burden lifts.
The routine of prayer—specifically the silence of adoration—transforms. It ceases to be a duty we perform for God and becomes a gift we receive from Him. It becomes, in the words of Exodus, “fresh manna”—sustenance gathered daily, tasted anew every morning (see Exodus 16:21). The dryness gives way—not to emotional fireworks, but to a deep, abiding rest in God’s presence.
If you are currently in the midst of the “second seven years”—if you have fought the good fight against sin but now find yourself battling the silence—do not lose heart. You are not lost; you are labouring for the love of your life. The aridity is digging a well in your soul that will eventually be filled with a water that does not run dry. Wait for it. The morning is coming—and with it, the quiet, steady joy of resting in the One you have loved all along.
Fr. Anil Prakash D’Souza, O.P., is a Dominican priest, theologian, and academic specialising in dogmatic theology. Born in Mangalore, India, he was ordained to the priesthood in 2009. He holds a Master of Theology (M.Th.), Licentiate in Sacred Theology (STL), and Doctorate in Sacred Theology (STD) from the University of Fribourg, Switzerland. Fr. Anil currently serves as Professor of Dogmatic Theology at St. Charles Seminary, Nagpur, India; Master of Dominican Students at St. Dominic Ashram, Nagpur, India; and Editor-in-Chief of the quarterly periodical Dominican Ashram. His forthcoming book is: Christian Salvation and the Religions: The Missional Soteriology of Charles Journet (Steubenville, OH: Emmaus Academic Press).