St. Thérèse, the Little Way, and our Woundedness

“The sufferings that we share with Thérèse are universal—physical pain, anxiety, anger, sadness, depression, loneliness, doubts of faith, to name a few. These sufferings are the context of holiness.” — Fr. Marc Foley, The Context of Holiness: Psychological and Spiritual Reflections on the Life of St. Thérèse of Lisieux

“There are many situations in life that trigger the deep-seated fears of childhood. I have come to see that this is a normal part of daily life. I have also come to understand that our childhood wounds are not obstacles to our spiritual growth but are in some mysterious manner the path on which we find our way back to God. The deep-seated fears of my life have forced me to abandon my self-sufficiency and to rely upon the grace of God.”— St. Thérèse of Lisieux, Story of a Soul: The Autobiography of St. Thérèse of Lisieux

Devotees of St. Thérèse of Lisieux know her Little Way well. The heart of her spirituality is defined by a child-like approach to faith that expects God to provide and care for us with the same sort of confidence that a child has in her parents.

For a long time, I distilled this Little Way spirituality far too simply. I considered it a sweet, cheerful approach to holiness. However, recent reflections have led me to believe that Thérèse’s understanding of the path to holiness and her Little Way spirituality are rooted in an emotional maturity that comes from a deep understanding of suffering and woundedness — particularly, woundness developed in childhood.

I’ve read more than one commentary that describes Thérèse as selfish. She even references an immaturity in herself that compelled her to push against her immediate reactions to moments and events in her life toward the small acts of love by which her spirituality is defined. Yet, the more I get to know Thérèse and the more I get to know myself, the more I understand just how difficult small acts of love can actually be in our daily lives.

I’ve come to believe that Thérèse’s Little Way spirituality is not just a catch-all for the simple moments — it’s actually a tool for us to use when our own fears and wounds lead us to want to turn inward instead of leaning into the life of grace and love we’re being invited to. To understand this, we must understand Thérèse’s childhood wounds.

Thérèse likely developed what we’d now call an “attachment injury,” beginning with a separation from her mother as an infant due to failure to nurse well. To survive, she bonded with her nursemaid, Rose, and when she visited her mother and even was returned permanently to her, she struggled to find security there — either preferring the affection of her mother’s workers in her lace-making company, who resembled Rose or clinging to Zelie for fear she’d be separated from her again. Then, Zelie’s death when Thérèse was four caused another devastating separation, this one not able to be repaired over time. Thérèse declared Pauline to be her “new mother,” — an obvious bid for the maternal connection she desperately craved and needed. Once again, that maternal connection was broken when Pauline entered Carmel.

It’s no wonder Thérèse preferred to understand herself as a little child in God’s eyes — it was the only place she had continuous security and safety as a child.

Thérèse, at a young age, was well aware of her need for reassurance, her anxiety, depression, and her consistent desire for affection from a mother-like figure. And the Little Way she developed and adopted gave her the courage to face moments of life before her, even into adulthood, that might have otherwise paralyzed her anxiety-ridden mind.

As Fr. Marc Foley explains in his book The Context of Holiness: Psychological and Spiritual Reflections on the Life of Saint Thérèse of Lisieux

Becoming an adult does not mean that the deep emotional wounds of childhood disappear. Rather, being an adult means choosing to make courageous decisions in the face of powerful emotions. We have an example of this when Thérèse was appointed novice mistress. “When I was given the office of entering into the sanctuary of souls, I saw immediately that the task was beyond my strength. I threw myself into the arms of God as a little child and, hiding my face in His hair, I said: ‘Lord, I am too little to nourish Your children; if You wish to give through me what is suitable for each, fill my little hand and without leaving Your arms or turning my head, I shall give Your treasures to the soul who will come and ask for nourishment’” (S 237–38).

Thérèse’s reaction is all too human. When she was assigned a job that she thought was too much for her to handle, she felt overwhelmed, incompetent, unqualified, and inadequate. Thérèse felt like a frightened child clinging to her father, the same feelings she had experienced when she clung to her mother and her family. However, Thérèse does not apologize for her fears. She does not berate herself for feeling like a child; rather her fears and insecurities are the context within which she places her trust in God.

And there is the simple but also invariably difficult lesson for us to follow: The things that being us anxiety, fear, or uncertainty are not barriers to fulfilling God’s will or reasons to shy away from this action or that action. Instead, they are the very opportunities that God wants to use for His will. They are the reality where God wants to meet us with His peace and security, which transcends all understanding. (Philippians 4:6-7).

For Thérèse, this place of peace and security can only be found when we become like children again. She writes: “Jesus points out to me the only way which leads to Love’s furnace – that way is self-surrender – it is the confidence of the little child who sleeps without fear in its father’s arms.”

With this reality in mind, may we come to know ourselves and, particularly, the deep-seated wounds from our pasts that threaten to hold us back from following the Way of Love. May we choose to face the fears, insecurities, anxieties, or doubts certain moments cause us, trusting that God is our Father, ready to hold us securely and fill the gaps of our inadequacies. And in choosing to live this Little Way, like Thérèse, may we hide our face in His hair, relying on Him as securely as a very young child relies on their parents — for it is there in God’s arms that we will find all that we need, and more.

“I’m not relying on my own merits, as I have none, but I put my hope in Him who is goodness and holiness Himself.” — St. Thérèse of Lisieux

“I am certain that even if I had on my conscience every imaginable crime, I should lose nothing of my confidence; rather, I would hurry, with a heart broken with sorrow, to throw myself into the Arms of my Jesus.” — St. Thérèse of Lisieux