Behind Our Wall
by Lilias Trotter

The voice of my beloved! Behold he comes; he stands behind our wall; he looks in at the windows showing himself through the lattice.... It is our wall, that barrier of things visible that separates us, he on the radiant side, us on the dark side; and the breaches that come through sorrow and loss are the windows through which the light of his love shines, windows to look out by, not doors as yet.  Then, through them, we see his face looking in on us. All the breaks that give us an outlet from the seen to the unseen are infinitely worthwhile for those passing visions of the Son of God on the other side.


There has been a vivid realisation these days of the two distinct foci of life, the one nourished by earthly food and the other by the Tree of Life. This seems specially true at night when the lower springs sink so low that it seems as though only the upper springs hold on. I wonder if we shall discover later on, that the two have been more linked than we guessed.

It has come with fresh light today, during those 'hours of the cross' that it was our natural life that was crucified with Christ and that when we assent to this, it sinks out of the way. Then the Spirit of God indwelling our spirits can act unhindered on the body, in the quickening power that he promised, making it, whether in weakness or strength, the instrument for whatever he needs done... The patience of Christ has been the uppermost word today and his binding hand and foot in those first hours at Bethlehem; the nail-held hands and feet during the last hours at Calvary and between the two we have a glimpse of the fight for the field of patience; patience with physical exhaustion - patience for the hour of our deliverance - willingly taking up the yoke and finding rest... we may know the hour when we really take his yoke upon us; it is the hour when we find rest to our souls.


It has come to me freshly how every bit of weakness, ignorance and insufficiency can come full of blessedness if we unite it with the death of Christ. Each bit of it sinks down into his grave, touches the spring of resurrection, like the man who was let down into Elisha's grave of old.  We just need the faith to let it go down and down until it finds Christ. 'He went down and touched' (2 Kings 13:21) and in the touch of death, life thrilled... There it lies; that quiet, blessed grave of Jesus, a refuge from the oppression of the enemy. To 'go down and touch'. That is the secret.

Parables in Nature

Index of Lilias Trotter's Writings and Artwork