Showing posts with label Trotter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Trotter. Show all posts

Monday, April 28, 2014

measuring life by loss

Loss of friendship.
Loss of community.
Loss of reputation.
Loss of momentum.
Loss of peace.
Loss of focus.
Loss of position.
Loss of weight.
Loss of dreams.

This year has been marked by profound loss. In the wake of all this, any little loss, like a broken dish, perhaps, swells in significance. Yet I'm challenged by others who have suffered deeply and found grace in that very place of loss. Lilias Trotter turned her back on a promising career in art in order to pour out her life in the deserts of North Africa. She writes boldly:

From the art and writings of Lilias Trotter in A Blossom in the Desert, page 27.
Also available freely online here.
By her definition, this has been a rich year, storing up treasures of faith and discovering the true source of worth in Christ. On the back side of every loss is a gain. We only need eyes to see it that way.

Pottery by Rebecca Ito. Photo by Carmen Imes.
Gain of empathy.
Gain of understanding.
Gain of dependence.
Gain of humility.
Gain of gratitude.
Gain of re-focus.
Gain of correction.
Gain of solitude.
Gain of identification with Christ.

I dare say the sting of loss is blunted when we discover we have not lost and cannot lose what is most precious—our Savior's deep love for us.


Friday, April 25, 2014

a note to my happy friends

I've had a lot to say over the past year about suffering. But perhaps you are in a season of celebration. If so, I rejoice with you. Lilias Trotter has a timely word for souls in springtime:

From Lilias Trotter's Travel Journal, 1900
"You are right to be glad in His April days while He gives them. Every stage of the heavenly growth in us is lovely to Him; He is the God of the daisies and the lambs and the merry child hearts! It may be that no such path of loss lies before you; there are people like the lands where spring and summer weave the year between them, and the autumn processes are hardly noticed as they come and go. The one thing is to keep obedient in spirit, then you will be ready to let the flower-time pass if He bids you, when the sun of His love has worked some more ripening. You will feel by then that to try to keep the withering blossoms would be to cramp and ruin your soul. It is loss to keep when God says 'give.'" (A Blossom in the Desert, 111, emphasis mine)

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

deep waters

Another gem from Lilias Trotter:

"'I am come into deep waters' took on a new meaning this morning. It started with perplexing matters concerning the future. Then it dawned that shallow waters were a place where you can neither sink nor swim, but in deep waters it is one or the other: 'waters to swim in'—not to float in. Swimming is the intense, most strenuous form of motion—all of you is involved in it—and every inch of you is in abandonment of rest upon the water that bears you up." (A Blossom in the Desert, 57)

Painting by Lilias Trotter, A Blossom in the Desert, page 37.
For all my dear readers who are in deep waters, listen to this assurance from the One who rescues you:
"But now, O Jacob, listen to the LORD who created you. O Israel, the one who formed you says, 'Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you. I have called you by name; you are mine. When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you. For I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior." Isaiah 43:1–3a

Thursday, April 10, 2014

seeing both sides of holiness

Thanks to the recommendation of a dear friend, I've been reading A Blossom in the Desert: Reflections of Faith in the Art and Writings of Lilias Trotter. Lilias was a British missionary in the late 1800's in Algeria, North Africa, and the founder of what eventually became part of Arab World Ministries. Her explorations of faith amidst suffering are profound. I'll share a few vignettes in days to come. Today, in light of my most recent post on Christian maturity, I thought I'd share a snippet of what she says about sanctification. It's much more than the absence of sin ...

"Holiness, not safety, is the end of our calling. Separation from all known sin is the starting-point for sanctification, not the goal: it is only the negative side of holiness; it is only reaching the place where God can develop His ideal in us unhindered. It is when the death of winter has done its work that the sun can draw out in each plant its own individuality, and make its existence full and fragrant. Holiness means something more than the sweeping away of the old leaves of sin: it means the life of Jesus developed in us." (125, emphasis mine)
Watercolor by Lilias Trotter from A Blossom in the Desert, page 219.