Striving to be little ‘s’ saints

I recently finished a book study with my Carmelite community. We read “God, the Joy of my Life,” a biography of St. Teresa of the Andes. We learned that during the canonization process (Vatican officials) reviewed certain parts of her life.  The committee highlighted a time when she was in grade school and threw candy on the floor in disgust because it wasn’t the biggest piece that she thought she deserved. 

Y’all, this was what was worthy of scrutiny on the road to sainthood for this precious soul. Oh, cher, I’m in trouble. My babies are in trouble. My dude is in trouble. I was both in awe of St. Teresa’s holiness at such a young age on one hand and in wonder on the other as to how far I am from that level of sanctification. 

My rascals throw more than candy to the ground. They are versed in throwing each other, fits, things down the stairs, their hands, etc. As for us as parents, we are very practiced in throwing around our agitation and our raised voices and the two of us are highly experienced in tossing sarcasm back and forth.  

Her story spoke to how gentle and patient her mother and aunts were in modeling the faith in her early years.  Books about saints are very near the top of my interests but sometimes I can compare myself instead of seeing their example as one to learn from. I’ll sit and ponder about “how much purgatory I have accrued” (back of da line my mamaw would say) or if our parenting is getting the kids closer to the gates. 

I know the Lord does not want us to measure.  We all have a role, and we are all blessed with our own paths and gifts to reach salvation. I am grateful for my husband’s wisdom in situations like this.  When talking to him about the book he reminded me, “Don’t forget about St. Mary Magdalen or St. Paul, Ellen.  Their start wasn’t so hot.” 

It’s in those suggestions and in the moments of grace that I remember the Lord’s hand in it all. We may not be called to be a big “S” saint but when he is with us through muddy waters it shows he is with us in the struggle so we can reach our little “s” and live in eternity with him. Oh, how I appreciate that he is never tired of redirection. 

At times when I think I am an inadequate mom to our oldest son, Jesus uses his mother in my life to fill in the gaps. She shows up and confirms that my son is consecrated to her and it very much edifies me. ‘Tis the season for being sick and he caught a wicked virus last month. He ran a high fever for several days. Typically late in the afternoon, the fever would spike and he would be so out of sorts that it alarmed me until I witnessed her work. 

In and out of alertness he would pray the Hail Mary. He would stir from under his blanket and I’d hear, “blessed are you among women,” then he would turn over and ball up. Twenty minutes later, again, “mother of God, pray for us …” and then back to sleep. 

I asked him after he recovered if he remembered praying through Mary and he had no recollection of it. In instances of need he called out to his heavenly mother and she pulled us both through. 

There was another love tap at our church’s fall fest the next week. The kids were encouraged to dress up as saints and there would be a contest. My youngest daughter chose St. Francis of Assisi. “Oh, ok little girl,” I thought.  Her middle name is Frances but after Blessed Seelos. I decided to go with it. We even bought a stocking cap to put her hair up and a little bird with a clip to sit on her shoulder. She didn’t win, which would typically queue in her normal world a very spirit-crushed reaction to the point of bringing everyone down in a spiraling blaze of self-pity. She barely teared up, swallowed hard and moved on. 

The Franciscan (St. Francis) must have interceded.  I observed her for a bit but then our baby St. Maximilian Kolbe stole my attention for the rest of the night. 

We had been there a while, most people were leaving and the food was being picked up. I felt a tug and there was a little, raggedy bearded girl. She handed me a Frito pie and said “Here mom, I made you this before it was all gone.”  Oh sweet Lord, you are so good. This time I was in a blaze, and it was from humility and gratitude.

If those giant and bright signal graces were not enough it was again made clear to me that the Lord cannot be outdone in his affection.  He poured more warmth upon me so I could truly understand, “ask and you shall receive” (Lk 11:9). 

Our oldest will be a teenager in a few days and we are seeing the shift in seasons. It’s not huge. There is more awareness of appearance. She is more cognizant of others’ opinions and “all the things.” She isn’t as tolerant of her younger siblings. 

I have been praying about how to walk this next chapter with her and the big man settled my heart before vigil Mass one afternoon. I was in my bathroom getting ready and my daughter snuck in behind me and said, “How does this look, mom?” I turned and my heart burst. She put together a wonderful outfit but she had also pinned on her old chapel veil. “I’ve been thinking about wearing it again for a while now,” she sweetly replied. My “too cool,” “smarty pants,” “ugh mom, stop” big girl discerned what was on her heart and acted
upon it. 

Ok, Lord. I feel you. I thank you. I glorify you. He doesn’t expect me to be just like St. Teresa’s mom nor does he want me to line up my kids’ behavior to a saint’s. He wants us to continue to seek him and he will continue to provide. 

I will always look to the saints as exemplary Christians but I will be more conscious of not weighing our lives with theirs so precisely. I’ll pray that we all can come to know how much the Lord loves us individually. 

Eldridge is a Catholic mom living in the Diocese of Baton Rouge facing the same challenges all families face.