The first time I heard the name Lillias Trotter was in a message
that Dr. Euler preached one Sunday morning years ago, and I remember the
fascination I felt learning about a missionary whom I hadnot heard of before.
Lillias was born into a wealthy family in 1850s London. As part of the upper
class, she rubbed shoulders with authors and artists of the day; writer Anthony
Trollope was her next-door neighbor at one point, whose guests included Robert
Browning and Mark Twain.
Lillias had a gift for art, and the famous art teacher and critic
John Ruskin admired her work, befriended her, and became her mentor. Lillias
saw beauty all around her in nature and had a great talent for capturing the
beauty in her drawings and watercolors. In one of her visits to Ruskin’s home,
he told her that if she devoted herself to art, she could become the most
well-known artist of the day whose works would become immortal.
Fame lay before her along with the ability to pursue her passion
and joy in this extraordinary gift she had.Yet Lillias also had great faith in
God and devoted much of her time to serving others, especially at Welbeck
Street Institute, a hostel for young women who worked in London. There she
taught Bible classes, helped meet the women’s needs, and assisted as secretary
in the administration of running this
home that later became part of the YWCA. She was passionate about
the Lord and her walk with Him, often attending conferences with the aim of
growing in her faith. What she learned she would then pass on to others. She
once wrote, “A flower that stops short of its flowering misses its purpose. We
were created for more than our own spiritual development; reproduction, not
mere development, is the goal of matured being – reproduction in the lives of
others.”
So now, at age 26, Lillias had a choice to make: devote herself
fully to art as Ruskin was encouraging her to do or let art just become a hobby on the side
so that she could more fully devote herself to service. The choice weighed on
her; she prayed much over it, seeking what the Lord would have her to do. And
she came to a conclusion that would direct the rest of her life. She would not
devoteher time to perfecting her art; instead, she would devote her time to
serving, possibly knowing that the circles in which she would serve might cost
her social standing as well as the opportunity for marriage.
In her book Parables of the
Cross, she would one day write the following: “Have we learned the buttercup’s
lesson yet? Are our hands off the very blossom of our life? Are all things –
even the treasuresthat [God] has sanctified – held loosely, ready to be parted
with, without a struggle, when He asks for them?” Lillias also declared that,
“It is loss to keep when God says ‘give’.” And, having made her choice, she
felt “the liberty of those who have nothing to lose because they have nothing
to keep.” Lillias eventually moved to the Muslim country of Algiers, where she
served forty years, sharing Christ with the people there.
So, how does this strike me, living over 150 years after this
sister in Christ? As I read her biography, I am challenged by a life that truly understood what it
means to seek first God’s kingdom. I am so prone to getting caught up in the
trivial day-to-day! I am prone to lose sight of what really matters. I am prone
to finding excuses to satisfy my desires, to take the comfortable route rather
than the path that must die to self. I struggle with the day-to-day choices:
getting up in the morning early enough to spend time with the Lord, not getting
caught up in the petty arguments of the day, choosing to reach out to others or show hospitality when I’d rather sit on my couch and
read a book. What would it look like to truly understand, as we heard this
morning in the message at church, that “to live is Christ” (Phil. 1:21), not
“to live is to enjoy myself and be comfortable”? How would we live differently
if we really believed that our calling is to be “a living sacrifice” (Romans
12:2)? I believe Lillias Trotter understood these things; my prayer is that I,
and you, would as well.
“Look at the expression of abandonment about this wildrose calyx
as time goes on, and it begins to grow towards the end for which is has had to
count all things but loss: the look of dumb emptiness has gone – it has flung
back joyously now, for simultaneous with the new dying a richer life has begun
to work at its heart.” (Lillias Trotter, Parables
of the Cross)
-- Amy O’Rear
(All quotes and information about Lillias Trotter is taken from
the biography A Passion for the Impossible by Miriam Huffman Rockness.)
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