In the middle of my busy days I find my mind adrift. I daydream about the big things while I do the little things. I see myself writing and speaking, connecting with women of faith and helping others tell their own stories. I imagine myself on grand pilgrimages or exotic mission fields. I wonder sometimes how I’ll get to where God has placed my desires. Or why he seemingly set them far away while I spend my days in the cloister of family life. I wonder how I can make a difference when I often feel so small and out of touch.
As I vacuum the crumbs off of the floor of the family room (again!) a Saintly friend calls out to me from the book on my coffee table. It’s the Mona Lisa smile of a regular intercessor, St. Therese of Lisieux. The knowing twinkle in her eye reminds me that despite her eternal status as a woman Doctor of the Church, she never left Carmel. Though like me, she wanted to choose all, she focused on the vocation God had given her.
Though she wished to do many great things, her adventurous spirit never led her to despair. She wrote: “I don’t want to be a saint by halves; I choose all that you will!” Instead of wasting time pining for more, she lived the life she had with as much intention and love as possible.
As far as Saints go, her journey seemed unremarkable. She had few supernatural experiences and grappled with spiritual dryness but she allowed Jesus to be her everything. She embraced the simple, making it sacred and leaned into a quiet self mastery she named the Little Way.
Though many of her fellow Carmelites didn’t see her as a Saint, her writings revealed her vibrant inner life and heroic virtue. One story that inspired me as a mom of little children was a particular difficulty Therese experienced during mental prayer. Each day as she meditated she endured an incessant, quiet clicking sound coming from the sister behind her. She became so distracted by the sound, which seemed to only get louder and only bother her, that she fought to bring her thoughts back to Jesus and to prayer.
Her flesh wanted to shoot the offending nun a dirty look but, sweet Therese chose charity. Instead of letting the small annoyance stop her prayers or steal her peace, she embraced it praying, “Infant Jesus, I know children enjoy music. Here is a little symphony for you, a symphony of a bride of Christ at prayer. Let us listen to it together.”
This holy example inspires me to do small things with great love while I work and pray in the little Carmel of my home. Therese reminds me that quiet faith in action can say more than mere words can express. That despite the mess and stress of family life, a little prayer can make a big difference. That a morning offering over pancakes is still holy, a loud family rosary still makes eternal blooms and a Mass wrangling children still covers us in grace. If we invite Jesus into the place he’s willed for us, and allow him to be our everything, we can hope to become saints ourselves as we lead our families to heaven.
