The Little Way

It is becoming more and more clear that God has led me, not only to this practice of spiritual disciplines, but also to the order in which to practice them.

As I've come to this aching brokenness, so aware of what I have tried to hide from God, I can finally see this simple truth - he must become more; i must become less.

How do you strangle selfishness?

I guess by choosing a life of selflessness.

How do you shift your inner gaze away from self loathing?

By eating the Word of God - consuming it until it nourishes every cell, every atom of your existence.

How do you replace an idol of self?

By stepping aside so God can take his rightful place on the throne of your life.

He must become more. I must become less.

And this week I've started the practice of The Little Way. If you have never heard of St Therese of Lisieux, now is the time to find her.

Her short life was startlingly, boldly small. She chose the way of a child in everything she did.

She chose to be less, to take The Little Way.

She chose Jesus before her own comfort or desire.

And she lived free, with an immense sense of the great grace of God. She was determined that she would have been just as consumed by his saturating grace if she had ever fallen into a horrible sin and been rescued from it.

She knew God as a father.

She chose his way. Always his way.

I choose my own way more often than not.

And my flesh is chafing at this sudden change. God's way is stretched out before me, requiring everything. Everything.

I am choosing his way. I don't want to be mastered by my bondage anymore. I don't want to give in to behavior that keeps me spiraling into self loathing.

I want to eat some damn food without seeing it's effect in my body. I want to see my passing reflection without cringing. I want to put my husband's addictions outside of what defines me. I want to be free. Free. So free.

Abundantly free.

Jesus, take me on the Little Way.

Make me small. Make me less.

May freedom explode all around me, blazing with sunlight, filling my lungs with clean air.

Knead out every toxin, everything that contaminates me. Do the work.

And as *Much Afraid said, "Bind me to the altar. I don't want to be found struggling against the work of my Shepherd."


*Hind's Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard