In The Old Orchard: Putting In The Seed

A pot of oregano and my seasonal candle choice for late spring, early summer, Garden Herbs. I love to have seasonal scents for my family to enjoy.

The sun rises early now. I awake with daylight pouring between the wooden slats of our window blinds. My dog lays on the ground by my side of the bed and waits patiently for me to sit up. I walk quietly past my kids rooms. With school days over for a few months, the diligent and busy early mornings are now quiet and still as teenagers sleep in just a while longer. My chocolate lab, Charlie Joy Buttercup, shakes her body and the clinking of her dog tag is the only noise in the house. I let her outside onto the kitchen patio and start the espresso machine. I light my candle, gather my books and pens, and reaching for the softest blanket, I set my steaming hot black coffee on the side table and continue in my Bible reading plan. I just finished Leviticus. Its beautiful, its mysterious, its strange to the modern man or woman, and yet it feeds me somehow. I don’t claim to understand every passage. But the more I read it, the more I need to read it. 

Marilla, Henrietta, Poppy & Daisy

I like to see my chickens in their coop from my chair and watch from afar through our bear den windows. There is one apple tree on our property, perhaps leftover from an old orchard of another time and era as most of the properties around us were at one time orchards. I pruned some branches the other day as I couldn’t quite see as much of the coop as I wanted. I was startled to find many little green apples forming on the branches! Most eventually will fall to the ground from the weight, then we throw those to the chickens. But many are salvageable for apple sauce and pies. 

I close my Bible and put on my shoes. Its time to check out what Marilla, Henrietta, Poppy, and Daisy are up to. Charlie-girl comes with me, most of the time. As soon as I come round the side of the house, the hens often see me and run to their chicken gate. I dodge the sprinklers that are still on, and say good morning to my little ladies. I check their food and water levels, collect the eggs, check the perimeter to make sure no small animals are digging holes to get into the chicken run. I place rocks to block the holes that have been dug. Then I grab some grass or their favorite weeds and throw them in the run. I sing the Doxology as they “eye” me with curiosity, and off I go to water the garden. 

Last year, I dug up a square section of grass about 8 feet by 10 feet, and created a blueberry patch with a couple of old barrel planters I had found on the property five years ago. My goal is to establish blueberry bushes for my future grandchildren to enjoy when they come to visit! We can gather the blueberries together for a sweet treat and then read the picture book, Blueberries for Sal. 

My lavender bush is mighty this year! It is such a glorious bush! I also planted a hibiscus plant and a hellebore plant from a friend. My fairy garden is thriving with Lamb’s Ear seeds from a friend at church, prairie lilies which are a must-have for anywhere I live, a very meaningful plant to me. Chrysanthemum and a dahlia also adorn my fairy garden. Florence, our tooth fairy, has now retired from her duties and sits silently pensive among the flowers towering above her. 

Onto the garden boxes where a strawberry patch is in full swing with tendrils extending to multiply its delicious sweet goodness! One day, it will be a thriving box of only strawberries, but until then there is space, so this year I have paired the berries with jalapenos, onions, and marigolds. Raspberries are in another box, and though it will one day be solely a raspberry box, again, it still has room, so in go the tomato plants from a friend at church, volunteer mint is returning, and again some onion seeds to fill up the space. Lord willing, it will be crowded with food later this summer. I can’t wait to share a photo here of the abundant garden I’m envisioning. I’ve also planted cucumber, pumpkin, winter squash, dahlias, climatis, and of course, sunflowers. 

On Sunday, the heat of summer arrived as we were also hosting an evangelism class and meal together for our church. There was no wind this time, so we set out the picnic table, the canopy, the chairs, all under the shade of the apple tree. The shadow lengthened giving relief from the sun, and we gathered with members of our church to discuss the very important work of welcoming others into our church community, to share with them the most important message of all, and to grow in our ability to share well our hope in Christ. 

Though we have only one apple tree, and though I’m still trying to figure out how to care for it each year, it has its own stories and memories throughout its lifetime. How old is it, I wonder? How many birds and cats and children have come to seek shelter or a hide-and-seek place to play in its branches? How many piñatas have we strung up for birthday parties in the past 5 years? How many pies have been made? Who are the families who have worked hard to prune it, harvest from it, and find shade on hot summer days?

Well, this is the first post in a new series of blog posts, In The Old Orchard, where I share about my gardening journey and perhaps other little tidbits of life as I plant, cultivate, harvest, and delight in my garden. To leave you, I will offer a bit of inspiration, a garden poem by Edward J. O’Brien:

“The Whisper of the Earth
by Edward J. O’Brien

In the misty hollow, shyly greening branches
Soften to the south wind, bending to the rain.
From the moistened earthland flutter little whispers,
Breathing hidden beauty, innocent of stain.
Little Plucking fingers tremble through the grasses,
Little silent voices sigh the dawn of spring,
Little burning earth-flames break the awful stillness,
Little crying wind-sounds come before the King.
Powers, dominations urge the budding of the crocus,
Cherubim are singing in the moist cool stone,
Seraphim are calling through the channels of the lily,
God has heard the earth-cry and journeys to His throne.”

— Favorite Poems for the Garden

A Quiet Note & A Song

I am writing today from what I call my little bear den. It is a cold day in the highlands of central Washington state, frigidly cold to the bones. We are trying to stay warm these days with many blankets, hot water bottles or warm baths before bed. The chicken water is frozen every day, so I make sure to bring fresh water daily to our four hens. The Americana hen has just started laying her blue-green eggs, just in time to give me a glimpse of spring joys in the dry dead of winter. Oh there are reminders everywhere of that resurrection season about to dawn upon us. But first, Lent.

A book that I plan to use for personal devotions this year is titled Bread & Wine: Readings for Lent & Easter. They are short reflections written by a variety of Christian authors such as Saint Augustine, Martin Luther, G.K. Chesterton, Christina Rossetti, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Amy Carmichael, and even, Wendell Berry. It is also time to start pondering which art piece I will feature in our family room above the mantel place. Art for the liturgical seasons brings a focal point to our family times, a reminder that we are living the Christian year, the story of our faith through time. My husband and I find that celebrating the church year is a rich tool the Christian church can use in discipleship, teaching and training our children to love and know Jesus, our Savior, to remember the events of our salvation, and to hold them before us throughout our lifetime as signposts of what God has accomplished.

I remember as a teenager a song that would play on the radio that became my theme song, Knowing You Jesus by British worship singer and songwriter, Graham Kendrick. This song was the cry of my heart… and every word was and is my desire. You can know Jesus.

Read these precious and powerful words from Scripture:

“But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith— that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead.”

— Philippians 3:7-11 English Standard Version, The Holy Bible

As the music from my teenage years plays, little flecks of snow swirl playfully on the wind, as if they are enjoying their light-hearted descent to the frozen ground of our backyard. I have cushioned the henhouse with extra pine shavings, brought them a treat of dried worms, and am about to start some dinner prep for my family. I hope you are keeping warm in your part of the world, filling your home with good music and joyful song, and making preparations for your heart this upcoming Lenten season, and for the hearts of those in your care. Let them know the most important thing in their life, that they can know their Creator and receive adoption into God’s family by faith in Jesus.

“Knowing you, Jesus, Knowing you, there is no greater thing... you’re my joy, my righteousness, and I love you, Lord.”

— Graham Kendrick

Jesus is My Only Refuge - Biography of Ann Judson

She called herself one of the “happiest creatures on earth.” Ann, the youngest of five children, was born in 1789 in Bradford, New England to John and Rebecca Hasseltine. At the age of thirteen, she searched for happiness in the clothing she wore, the parties she attended, and the “wild and volatile” friends she indulged. Though she had no concern for her own soul, God did, and He was about to turn her world upside down to not only save her and grant her true happiness, but to reach across the seas and bring the gospel to the far away land of Burma.

The Holy Spirit began to work in Ann’s heart and a desire to grow in her knowledge of God blossomed. Although Ann still struggled to understand the Bible, the Word of God became dear to her and one day she would translate it into the language of a people she did not know. In time, she experienced the peace of knowing she belonged to Christ and that she was forgiven of her sins based on Christ’s merit alone.

“Felt a willingness to give myself away to Christ, to be disposed of as he pleases. Here I find safety and comfort. Jesus is my only refuge…” Sharon James, Ann Judson: A Missionary Life for Burma, p. 33

In the summer of 1810, the Hasseltine family hosted a lunch for missionaries, including a young man named Adoniram Judson. Upon meeting Ann, Adoniram immediately noticed her beauty, personality, and winsome ways. On February 5th, 1812, Ann and Adoniram were married and a farewell service followed. They intended to leave immediately with their friends before the war between Britain and America would restrict them from sea travel. 

After arriving in Calcutta, finding a place to set up a mission proved challenging. Many countries were closed to the spread of the gospel and political conditions were uncertain. The British East India Company opposed all foreign missionaries. One of the locations that was open to them was the Isle of France. Fellow missionaries, Samuel and Harriet Newell, left on the first ship to Isle of France as the Judsons would join them on a later ship. When the Judsons arrived, Ann received the devastating news that her friend, Harriet, had died on ship after giving birth to her daughter, who died shortly after. Through many difficult attempts at settling into a mission work on the Isle of France, they realized that their work would not be permitted among the slave population, and that the slave owners had such control over the island that they would have to look elsewhere to begin their work. As they looked toward Burma, the land of the Golden Shore, they saw an immense opportunity for translation work and evangelism. Through all this, Ann was beginning to face the realities of the life she had been called to for the cause of Christ. And yet her hope was firmly planted in the sovereignty of God and his step-by-step direction. 

In Burma, where Buddhism was the main religion, seventeen million people had no Bible and no hope. Ann and Adoniram longed to see these people come to know the redeeming love of God. Their mission was to go and make disciples; this land of pagodas would become their mission field. Over the next several years, Ann learned both the languages of Burmese and Siamese. She began discipling women, started a school for girls, and wrote and translated a catechism for children into Burmese.

In September 1815, Ann gave birth to a son, Roger Williams. Their joy was immense as they watched their baby grow healthy and strong until at nearly eight months of age, fever and violent coughing fits overtook his health and he passed away silently in the night. Their grief came in waves like the current of the Arah-wah-tee. The ebb and flow of bereavement and hope wound its way to the sea of God’s unfailing love. Returning to study and work was their source of distraction, and trusting in God’s will was their source of comfort.  

Ann’s health continued to suffer and she had to leave Burma for cooler climates in England, and then America. When she finally returned two and a half years later, not only was she reunited with her husband, but a small Christian church was growing its roots deeper into the Burman soil and her husband had completed the first translation of the New Testament. The long awaited harvest had begun, and they began to see the fruit of all their labors. 

A week after her return, Adoniram and Ann traveled by boat up the Arah-wah-tee to move to the capital city of Ava, on invitation from the King. They felt it necessary to secure a mission post there. As they traveled, passing war boats and soldiers, they could not help but put their trust in God’s care. Ann wrote in her journal: “Not a hair of our head can be injured, but with the permission of Him whose precious name we would make known…” Sharon James, Ann Judson: A Missionary Life for Burma, p.172

Several months went by and the Judsons received news that Rangoon had been captured by the British. All foreigners were now suspected as spies. It wasn’t long before Adoniram and a friend were thrown into prison. His faithful wife spent the next year and a half advocating for his release, his comfort and for better prison conditions. She kept him alive by bringing food almost daily and mats to sleep on. At one point, she brought him a pillow and secretly tucked inside was the only copy of the translated New Testament. There inside the destitute prison, a light was shining into the darkness. It was a light that would never be extinguished. It was the light for which they had sacrificed and suffered so much.

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” John 1:5

During Adoniram’s prison stay, Ann gave birth to a baby girl named Maria. She brought her everywhere including into the prison for Adoniram to meet their little girl. Soon, Adoniram was transferred to another prison. To this place of wretchedness, Ann followed. Meanwhile, the conditions in which she lived further exacerbated her own health, including an outbreak of small pox, a trip to Ava to retrieve her medicine chest, and the onset of a fatal illness. It was a miracle she survived any of these trials. 

News finally came that Burma had ceded to the English. When Adoniram was finally allowed to return to his family, he could barely recognize his dear wife, sick as she was. In February 1826, the Judsons were freed to find refuge at the English camp where they were nurtured back to health.

After the war, the Judsons moved to Tennasserim where they could enjoy religious freedom. Ann was content with their new surroundings, their large and spacious home provided much comfort, and she looked forward to a happy existence continuing their work for the foreseeable future. You might say that she thought herself one of the “happiest creatures on earth” and truly she was, because her happiness was not dependent on her outside circumstances, but on the sovereign and secure love of God. While Adoniram was away to the capital, Ann came down with a violent fever. Her body worn from years of illness, she passed away into that eternal happiness that was purchased for her at the cross.

Ann Judson accomplished much in her short life of thirty-seven years. With a courage that can only come from God, she followed His call to go and make disciples. All the while, she and her husband knew that they were working to lay a foundation that would benefit future missionaries to Burma. Two hundred years after the Judsons began their work, in 2017, the Jesus Storybook Bible has been translated and published into the Burmese language by modern missionaries to Burma whom I had the privilege of meeting in person. The light of God’s Word continues to shine in Burma with the unfailing love of Christ. You can follow current gospel work of missionaries, Jim and Breanna Randall, in Burma through their blog here: https://burmachronicle.com/

“…a little sacrifice for the cause of Christ is not worth naming; and I feel it a privilege, of which I am entirely undeserving, to have had it in my power to sacrifice my all for him who hesitated not to lay down his life for sinners.” Sharon James, Ann Judson: A Missionary Life for Burma, p.120

This biographical essay was originally written for and published by Wildflowers Girls Magazine for the Fall 2018 issue. Researching and writing about Ann was an encouragement to me as our family had moved several times through the years. In 2018, my husband graduated from seminary, and at this time we were waiting on the Lord for direction of where to plant a church while also accepting a two year church planting residency to prepare to plant the church. Something fun about all of this was that I got to briefly connect with the author of the original English edition of the Jesus Storybook Bible, Sally Lloyd Jones, on Instagram many years ago while walking through a grocery store to get the weekly groceries for my family. So many fun connections! Praise to Jesus!

Still the Light Grows...

The Nativity, Gwen Raverat, 1916

I gathered the candy and the graham crackers from our local neighborhood corner store. My son whipped up a batch of frosting for the gingerbread houses, and when the kids finally sat down to do our annual gingerbread creations, I told them the good news of great joy that I would clean the kitchen and they didn’t have to do dinner dishes that night! I happily went into the kitchen to do the mighty work of putting the kitchen back in order for another day. Little did I know what was happening in the other room…

I overheard words here and there, and giggles of course, but when I came out to check on the kids, I had seemed to forget that their current year’s studies in Humanities might highly influence their creativity. No, there were no graham cracker cottages with lightly placed frosting in the form of icicles and carefully crafted rooftops with patterns of colored candy lights. No gummy bear to greet pilgrim gummy bears on their way to the Candycane Forest. No, this year, my kids were creating World War 2 battle scenes.

Gummy bears were stationed on battlements, others were galvanized for winter fighting amidst the powder sugar snow, and toothpicks were thrust through gummy bear soldiers. Thankfully, I did not have any red food coloring on hand!

The traveling is done, the presents have been opened, the food feasted upon. And, on the 6th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me our 18th wedding anniversary! Today, we celebrate New Year’s Eve and the conclusion of a very full and good year. My heart is full, snow is dusting the hills to the west, and we will eat steak and gnocchi tonight. As we are still in Christmastide, I want to share with you one of the most beautiful art pieces for Christmas that I have ever seen. This is our Christmastide art I will put up every year, henceforth, as we celebrate the Twelve Days of Christmas.

As the pages of this year close, as the light continues to grow in the darkness of winter’s beginnings, and as a new year unfolds with beautiful possibilities, may your hope be in Jesus, your anchor in His Word, and your peace be secure as you rest in union with Christ. And may you remember, no matter what this year holds, that still the light grows…

Thanks for reading!

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Sight and Sound: Art For Advent

Mary and Eve, Sister Grace Remington, 2005

This weekend, a gift arrived in the mail from a dear older friend. I was speechless with delightful surprise, wonder, and reverence. Handcrafted in Arizona, my friend created a beautiful wooden nativity scene in a crescent moon. It now sits on our mantlepiece in our “bear den” family room where we most frequently gather, and where our church’s mom ministry gathers once a month, and where piano students sit to wait for their lesson turn. I want this art piece to bless all who enter our home. This piece of art was lovingly crafted by my dear friend, Martha, a true artisan, and a woman after God’s heart, as she took material from His creation, wood from a tree, and fashioned it into something very beautiful with skill and precision.

Nativity, by Martha Copeland, wood engraving

Art is a gift that evokes deep emotional responses and can reach into a person’s heart and mind to add understanding and draw out wonder. I have been curating art lately and let me tell you what I’ve found!

First, how is your Advent going? Although Advent is a time in the church calendar that signifies a theme of waiting, for our family, it has been a very full season. As the children get older, and taller (our 3rd child just passed me in height), we have more activities, fuller schedules, studying for final exams, school projects to complete, “ugly christmas sweaters” to pull out of the closet, christmas parties to attend, secret Santa gifts to purchase for classmates, music recitals, concerts and advent parties to attend. Our Advent is full and bustling as we are hustling. It hasn’t been very quiet or still! However, I’ve been taking a few extra naps, taking quiet moments as they come, however brief, and evening coffee has been a more frequent treat as we gather together with cozy blankets in the den after the early setting sun has disappeared behind Mt Adams.

One thing that I’ve been focusing on this year is gathering a couple of art pieces for our den. One is an Advent piece titled, “Mary and Eve” drawn by Sister Grace Remington, crayon and pencil, 2005. In an interview with Plough Magazine, Sister Grace explains deeper layers of meaning in her art piece:

“One of the things I was pondering as I drew this picture was the question of why Eve said “no” to God and Mary said “yes.” I started to think about how Eve had no idea what it would mean to live in a fallen world, to be separated from God. Whatever purity of soul Mary had, Eve had in her creation too. And yet, whatever innocence Mary had, she was not spared the experience of living in a fallen world. First-century Palestine was no Garden of Eden. I wondered whether Mary was able to give her yes precisely because she knew the pain of life. She knew how desperately we needed God. Her eyes were open. This was part of what I see as her compassion for Eve in this picture. She is not standing with folded hands on a pedestal above Eve: she is standing with Eve, touching Eve, seeing her deeply. She knows the gift she is carrying is for Eve as much as it is for herself. She doesn’t need Eve to get herself together, or to even drop the apple before inviting her in. I also hope the picture communicates the way Christ is present in our encounters even when we cannot see Him. The picture is of Mary and Eve, but Jesus is there too. He is, in fact, at the very center.” https://www.plough.com/en/topics/culture/holidays/christmas-readings/mary-consoles-eve

This first time I encountered this artwork was likely in Advent of 2009, in our little town of Bellingham where we lived and served a church for three and a half years. This beautiful art piece was on the cover of the bulletin. It struck me with meaning as the image plunged itself into my heart and spoke to me in a language of symbols, divine kindness, and consolation. Just like the gift from my friend this weekend, this art piece delighted me with surprise at such an image, wonder at Mary reaching out with consolation to let Eve know that her promised Redeemer has come, and reverence for this is a sacred moment on which all of history pivots. The Kingdom of God has come, the King has arrived.

As I vascillated back and forth on which art print I would order, I finally decided on this one. It is interwoven into our story with meaning and memory. And so, every year from here on, as December rolls around, we will bring it out as a part of living out the church year in our home.

As my sense of sight has been delighted by art and beauty of the season, so too, my ears have been hearing good news of great joy through song. Here are some beautiful ones:

Wendell Kimbrough, Advent

In the Bleak Midwinter, John Van Deusen

Brightest and Best, The Gettys & Ricky Skaggs

Sarah Sparks, Advent Pt. One - 400 Years

Elizabeth, Keith & Kristyn Getty & Ellie Holcomb

May your heart be nestled this Advent in the reality of God with us, God with you.

This photo was taken on our hike through the forest to chop down this year’s Christmas tree!

Lilias Trotter: The Life & Work of a Soul in Blossom

(This essay was originally published in the print magazine, Deeply Rooted Magazine, Issue 12, The Calling.)

When the Lord calls a soul to Himself, there is an unmistakable dying that occurs at the same time as there is a supernatural giving of life into union with Christ. At this point of receiving that resurrection life and power, the new child of God begins a life-long journey of hearing the continuous call in God’s Word, through the Holy Spirit, to die daily to sin and live to righteousness (1 Peter 2:24). That call of God demands a response. The question then becomes, how will you respond to this Christ-life dwelling within you? This is an account of a young woman who responded to that call with great sacrifice and with a passion for the impossible.

“This dandelion has long ago surrendered its golden petals, and has reached its crowning stage of dying - the delicate seed-globe must break up now- it gives and gives till it has nothing left….There is no sense of wrenching: it stands ready, holding up its little life, not knowing when or where or how the wind that bloweth where it listeth may carry it away. It holds itself no longer for its own keeping, only as something to be given…” Lilias Trotter, Parables, 26-27

The young Lily became a woman with a way of seeing in regards to spiritual matters, the natural world, and human relationships. Much of this can be attributed to her mother and father, Isabella and Alexander Trotter. The Trotters were an influential and economically prosperous family in mid 19th century England. A dynamic couple, they each possessed a love of nature, adventure, travel and most importantly a love for Christ. In their travels, Lilias’ mother was known for her prayers and evangelism both in England and across the ocean in the New World of America. Their fascination with various subjects, peoples and cultures, prepared Lilias for her future ministry working with people who lived in very different circumstances and contexts than she was accustomed to.

Lilias grew up during an era of celebrated writers, theologians, poets, and artists including the likes of George MacDonald, Bishop Wilberforce, Christina Rossetti and famed art critic, John Ruskin. Perhaps the most spiritually influential of these voices were those of Dwight L. Moody and Hannah Whitall Smith whose writings, devotional material, and evangelistic meetings became for Lilias a source of discipleship that would develop the inward journey of her soul to a deep and abiding surrender to God, and propel her outward as she prepared for a life of serving others.

Nature was a classroom for Lilias. When she saw a dandelion, a sand lily in the desert, or a delicate bouquet of violets, she not only saw the beauty within the blossom, but saw beyond, into the miracles that took place to cause the flower to bloom, knowing that the full expression of the flower was merely the end of its life cycle as it prepared for reproduction. Through these observations in nature, she drew parallels in the spiritual life.

Early on, Lilias’ mother saw her bourgeoning talent as an artist. It was 1876 in Venice when an opportunity presented itself to show some of Lilias’ work to one of the greatest figures of the Victorian Age, art critic and social philosopher, John Ruskin. She sought an evaluation of her daughter’s work, though she had been mostly self-taught from childhood. Ruskin’s initial impressions were of astonishment, and this opportune meeting changed his ingrained beliefs that a woman was incapable of such creativity and beauty in art. This was a turning point in his personal life as he began to pursue Lilias as her teacher, and eventually, as a dear friend.

Ruskin spent much time tutoring Lilias and guiding the formation of her art, particularly her work in watercolors. At the same time as she was progressing in her talent, she was also beginning a work of compassion to prostitutes in London, rescuing and training them in employable skills. She opened the first public restaurant for women in England and also worked with the YWCA. Her parallel loves of art and mercy ministry would eventually come to a crossing, one in which she would need to cross, and one in which would break her and wound her while simultaneously giving her a new and determined passion, setting her on a course for a new land and a new mission.

Ruskin began to notice a change in Lilias’ art which he felt was being negatively impacted by her deepening involvement in her mission work. At the same time, her mother had lost a battle with a degenerative heart condition and passed away. The impact of losing her mother and the emotional and physical strength needed for her work with the poor brought a solemnity to her work as she was faced with much brokenness and constant need all around her.

It was at this time that Ruskin approached Lilias with a vision of what could be her future career in art if she were to give herself completely up to a life of study and honing her skills. He strongly urged her to leave her religious work, and completely immerse herself in her art alone so that she could develop her potential and make her mark as one of England’s finest artists.

This crossroads that Lilias came to was not a decision to abandon a talent, for all of God’s good gifts are given for us to steward and use for His Kingdom purposes. The crossroads was a realization that she would either wholeheartedly give herself over to developing a career of art, fame, and worldly acclaim, or give herself over to the missionary work that God was leading her to, which would involve the use of art, however, it would now become a tool in God’s work and not an end in itself.

“Take the very hardest thing in your life – the place of difficulty, outward or inward, and expect God to triumph gloriously in that very spot.  Just there He can bring your soul into blossom.”       Parables of the Cross, p.17

This was the heart-wrenching and complicated decision that Lilias had come to. As she wrestled with this decision, painstakingly weighing what this would mean for her, she came to the conclusion that it is the Christian’s duty to abandon one’s entire self to God’s purposes. Her willingness to part with all these things came swiftly and with joy, though not without a sense of grieving the loss of something that was so precious.

For the next forty years, Lilias worked in Northern Africa among the Arab peoples. She and two friends began the Algiers Mission Band, now known as Arab World Ministries. She was a contemporary of Amy Carmichael, missionary to orphans in Dohnavur, India, who became to her a dear and trusted friend through regular correspondence.

What became of this talent that Lilias so obediently gave up? The gift that had been given now became a gift to others. Her art became the tool which, not surprisingly, was the very instrument God would use to communicate His Word to the Arab people with whom she worked. Working with a printing company and the mission band, she produced a series of color leaflets and text cards featuring illustrations, Biblical texts, and questions with answers.

“Before us all dawned, I think a new horizon – of the glory of the task to which God has called us – a glory in its every hardness & in the sense that we are working for the future & its coming day.  ‘We were dreamers dreaming greatly.'”  23 October 1911

God’s pursuit of this young woman to walk in faithful obedience to His ways is the same call He gives to all His people. It is a call to lay down our entire lives and well laid plans at His feet, to let them go in full surrender, and follow Him in the divinely designed roles and vocations He has called each of us to for His glory and His Kingdom.

Lilias had a way of seeing, even to the end of her life when, as her body began to give way to death, she experienced a vision of a chariot and horses. A friend asked her if she was seeing beautiful things. Lilias responded, “Yes, many, many beautiful things.” (Pigott, Memoriam, 3).

“Turn full your soul's vision to Jesus, and look and look at Him, and a strange dimness will come over all that is apart from Him, and the Divine "attrait" by which God's saints are made, even in this 20th century, will lay hold of you. For "He is worthy" to have all there is to be had in the heart that He has died to win.” Trotter, Focussed: A Story and A Song

The following is a list of resources for further study on the life and work of Lilias Trotter:

Books & Film about Lilias Trotter:

A Passion for the Impossible: The Life of Lilias Trotter, by Miriam Huffman Rockness

https://ililiastrotter.wordpress.com

Miriam Rockness: Reflections on the Art and Writings of Lilias Trotter.

Many Beautiful Things: The Life and Vision of Lilias Trotter, film directed by Laura Waters Hinson

Lily: The Girl Who Could See, by Sally Oxley and Tim Ladwig with Miriam Huffman Rockness

Books by Lilias Trotter:

Parables of the Cross

Parables of the Christ-Life

(Lilias wrote many books, booklets, and story parables. Most are currently out of print but may be accessed at the Arab World Ministries UK Headquarters in England.)

A full list of works by Lilias Trotter can be found here:

https://ililiastrotter.wordpress.com/works-by-lilias-trotter/

Thanks for reading Every Morning New Mercies!

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Homemaking - The Ministry of Vacuuming

I was in my mid-twenties, single, holding a undergrad degree and frankly, not quite sure which direction my life was taking me. My dream jobs were not coming to fruition, and though the “world was my oyster,” I was pondering why this oyster was stuck shut and refusing to open and reveal to me its prized pearl! An oyster that refuses to open, whether by breaking your nails to force it open, throwing it against a rock, or stomping on it, can be quite a frustrating situation. So, like that oyster, I felt tossed aside, forgotten, thrown back into the ocean to settle amidst the silt and darkness of the ocean floor, only to grow algae and be passed over by mudsharks. I jest!

In those years before I met my husband, it was a determined effort to choose to trust God and practice contentment. It took a massive mental assent to make it my project to keep walking forward and ask the Lord to use me in his kingdom, even though my expectations for what my life would look like in that time stamp were not manifesting in reality. With one step forward, day by day, I found the joy and contentment of walking with Him and determining to joyfully and passionately walk with Him in every season the Lord granted me.

I was in between jobs, and I found myself with an opportunity to work at a beloved Christian ranch camp in my neck of the British Columbia woods. Living at my parent’s house at the time, I drove my little blue Toyota Echo down our mountain slopes and out into the countryside until the pavement met the gravel. A few more miles, and I was surrounded by horses at the foot of the mountains. I had taken a seasonal kitchen assistant job. One of the tasks our team had each day was to clean the dining hall after the 200+ campers left for their afternoon activities. As an introvert, this was my opportunity for some much desired quiet time. I volunteered nearly every day to vacuum. That is, until I got carpal tunnel syndrome from vacuuming… too much!

I love to vacuum. I know this is not the case for many people. But to see those little specks of dirt magically disappear and create a clean environment for all to enjoy is deeply satisfying for me. Could there truly be this much joy in the mundane work of vacuuming? For me, there is!

I remember as a kid, discovering the ability to create lines and patterns on the carpet with the vacuum, the realization that one could create dark and light on the carpet depending on which direction the vacuum moved, the determination to get those lines in order and parallel with one another with a slight diagonal to give way for the vacuum to shift and turn. Attention to detail, anyone?

As a newlywed, we didn’t have a good vacuum for our first rental place. My husband loves to search for well engineered products that will last for decades. He told me about a bagless vacuum with cyclonic technology, and though pricey, we decided to purchase one and try it out. It was a game changer. Even though I already took joy in a good vacuum session, now vacuuming became a hobby. Not only did this machine do an  impressive job unlike any other machine, I could also see the dirt it collected in the transparent plastic cannister! I needed more carpet in my life.

A simple definition of ministry is to serve people. To clean a space for the benefit of others is to serve them. The act of vacuuming is to prepare a healthy, clean, orderly space for others to feel at ease, to feel cared for, and to function in a healthy space. Its so sweet when I’ve done a deep-clean of my kids’ rooms and they haven’t been expecting it (because they are at an age to steward their spaces well). They knew I took time out of my day and schedule to help them out. The delight on their faces is so satisfying! Their hugs and thank yous are the reward I treasure in my heart. Knowing they feel loved and seen gives me greater joy. These little mundane tasks fill their hearts with tangible love and care. Each of us needs that from others.

As a Christian, I can pray for those who will benefit from a space being cleaned and vacuumed, whether it is my husband, my children, piano students, or guests. When I vacuum at our church building, I can pray for the families who sit in those pews, the students who come for chapel four days a week, the family who has lost their grandparent, the young couple who have just found out they are pregnant, the absent family who is away because of sickness, etc. Vacuuming brings beauty to a space, and  welcome to those in need of that healing space. Someone’s hands, made in the image of God’s hands, have served them and prepared a place for them. There is beauty and calm in the mundane and monotonous. We just have to choose it.