I’ve had some comment about the name of the blog and questions about this “elevator to Heaven”, so I thought I’d spend a little time and explain where the idea came from. The name was suggested by a friend of mine, Sister Kate, who knows of my love of St. Therese.

This is the quote that inspired the title of the blog. Its one of my favorites from Therese.

‘The good God would not inspire unattainable desires; I can, then, in spite of my littleness, aspire to sanctity. For me to become greater is impossible; I must put up with myself just as I am with all my imperfections. But I wish to find the way to go to Heaven by a very straight, short, completely new little way. We are in a century of inventions; now one does not even have to take the trouble to climb the steps of a stairway; in the homes of the rich an elevator replaces them nicely. I, too, would like to find an elevator to lift me up to Jesus, for I am too little to climb the rough stairway of perfection.

So I have looked in the books of the saints for a sign of the elevator I long for, and I have read these words proceeding from the mount of eternal Wisdom: “He that is a little one, let him turn to me.” So I came, knowing that I had found what I was seeking and wanting to know, O my God, what you would do with the little one who would answer Your call, and this is what I found:

“As one whom the mother caresses, so will I comfort you. You shall be carried at the breasts and upon the knees they shall caress you.” Never have more tender words come to make my soul rejoice. The elevator which must raise me to the heavens is Your arms, O Jesus! For that I do not need to grow; on the contrary, I must necessarily remail small, become smaller. O my God, You have surpassed what I expected, and I want to sing Your mercies.’

St. Therese and her Little Way are inspiring to me as a wife and mother. Perhaps that seems strange as Therese spent her life in a convent, but let me explain. Therese lived a quiet life, a little life, but it was one of childlike faith and trust in all of the “littleness” the ordinary moments of her life. She thought of Him, she prayed to Him, she trusted Him at every junction, big or small. She lived a hidden life. In fact it wasn’t until after she died that her great faith was known. I aspire to this. I aspire to run to His arms and allow Him to do great things through me in my littleness. I too live a quiet life. Quitting my job was the right thing for our family, and I am beyond grateful for the opportunity to be with my little girl and my grandmother each day, but the sphere of my life did shrink with the decision. We have quiet, wonderful, days at home, and I cherish the opportunity to care for my family. Even so, there’s still a part of me that longs to go on mission, to teach, to travel and evangelize.  In the moments when I read a blog from friends who are missionaries in Haiti or Mexico, for the times I am envious when hearing former colleagues speak about the new school year and its promises, in the times I desire to be out and about in the world, St. Therese reminds me to be joyous in the ordinary of my life, that I can be a saint exactly where I am. There is such freedom in realizing that! All I need is to be where God has called me. For Therese it was the convent, for me it is this home in Grosse Pointe Park, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.  I am oh so grateful for it, grateful to be where God has called me, grateful for the witness of St. Therese and the completely new, and very straight way to Heaven she has shown me.