Many say that saints cannot intervene in a person’s life. How could they? They have died. Not so with St. Thérèse of Lisieux – still a very lively one who said before she died that she would send down a shower of roses from heaven. She said she wanted to spend her heaven doing good on earth. Yes, there are some “mushy” things herein, for which some readers may not be inclined to endure, but what love story is without them?
I want to tell you a story about this powerful “little” saint. She was born on January 2, 1873, and died on September 30, 1897, at the age of 24. In her Story of a Soul she wrote about the deep love for Jesus which made her do all things, even the smallest action, done out of love for him.
I will certainly write more about her life and writings in the future. But for now, I will focus on the role she has played in my life, and the life of my family. I must confess that early in my Catholicity, when I heard stories about this “little” saint, I found her to be a little too sentimental for me. I preferred the stories of the great martyrs and the theologians who wrote so eloquently about the mysteries of God. But this one herself tracked me down.
When I first came to Steubenville, the apartment I moved into had been dedicated to St. Thérèse of Lisieux by my landlord. An 8-by-11 image of St. Thérèse hung over the front door of the apartment. I saw her face every time I left the apartment, and she watched me come and go, biding her time.
Of course, everyone knows that when I came to school as a graduate student, I met my future wife at orientation. I fell in love with her instantly. All signs in my life had pointed to Natasha. So when I met her, I knew within weeks that my search for the woman had ended. It was either this one or no one at all. So after asking her out three times and several months of waiting for her to realize the attraction I knew she had for me in the first place, she finally agreed to date me. We went on our first date on February 25, 2006.
But the clock must be turned back briefly before moving ahead. Before I asked Natasha out for the final time, I had begun to discern priesthood. It had seemed that she was clearly the one, and it just wasn’t working out, so perhaps I was called to be a priest, I thought. When I was at the March for Life in Washington in January of that year, I had felt a very strong call when I was at the Mass for Life in the MCI Center in Washington. At the end of Mass, Cardinal Keeler asked if any young men in the audience thought that maybe, just maybe, God was calling them to the priesthood, and that they please stand. Having resisted this possibility all my life, I now found myself on my feet! As the French say, “Incroyable!” It was as something from within had compelled me. I made my friends swear not to tell my mother, because I thought this must have been for real.
I found this thought very frightening – not the chastity part, though. That would be easy. What would be hard would be to give up my lifelong desire for a wife and family. I have always wanted children, and priesthood seemed unthinkable until now. I admit that my desire to say Mass had been increasing, but I was too great a sinner to be a priest! Priests are to be holy. But it seemed that this is what God was calling me to.
So now with this stage set, I began to discern priesthood. Yet, three weeks later, I was in prayer on February 14 (the feast of Sts. Cyril and Methodius) praying about this before the Eucharist, and I heard very clearly in my heart, “Ask her out again.” (Atheists like to mock Christians who believe God talks to them in prayer. If they could hear the clarity with which I “heard” those words, they would no longer mock. A little voice in my head? Hardly. A loving and clear voice in my heart – and that is precisely “where” I “heard” it, or rather, Him.) I am convinced that St. Thérèse herself talked Our Lord into this scheme, and I think that will become clear later. But when I heard the Lord say this, I reminded him, “Lord, did you not hear? Where you not there?” (After I had asked Natasha out for the final time, I frustratedly told her, “Well, if you ever want to go out with me, you’re gonna have to ask me out yourself, because I’m not asking anymore.” Now I was gonna have to do it again! I am reminded of the time when Homer Simpson cried out to God and he responded in a way unforeseen. Homer said, “Why do you mock me, O Lord!” Oh, the gall of God, indeed! He thinks he’s sooo funny!) Presuming that she would reject me once again and this would be the detachment I needed in my soul, I wondered if I had not been purged enough of my need for human acceptance and needed further rejection for purification. Then I heard, “There is no pain that you can cause in her or she can cause in you that I can’t take care of myself.” These words filled me with both peace and joy and equipped me well for my new mission.
So the final time I asked Natasha out, I tried a different strategy, because the others weren’t working. We went to Mass together on Sunday, Feb. 19, like always. After lunch at Applebee’s I asked her out. “I’m asking you out again,” I said, “I want to take you swing-dancing on Saturday. But this time, I am not going to accept your ‘no’ until the weekend. Think about it, pray about it, and let me know.”
She didn’t say no instantly (a great victory!), and so we embarked upon a very interesting week. We hung out Monday, and I felt confident. We had class together on Tuesday, and I gave her a cheesy second-graderish note saying, “Do you like me? Circle one: yes, no, maybe so.” I even borrowed coloring pencils from our neighbors for effect. I still felt confident. Wednesday and Thursday, however, were unbearably long days. Before I put myself out of my misery on Thursday night by going to sleep early, Natasha called me to go to Eucharistic adoration together. Afterwards, she said, “What are you doing on Saturday?” Woohoo, a “yes”! She finally accepted! Friday, the day before our date, was a bit of a surprise, though. When I arrived at work, I noticed a miniature wine glass with a white baby rose in it at my desk sitting on top of a piece of paper. I thought it was for Christie, my co-worker (and Natasha’s future maid-of-honor). But no, Natasha had left it for me. The note was the one I had given her earlier in the week. In bright yellow highlighter, she had circled “maybe so.”
Since I had been shot down so many times already, I didn’t expect our “dating” to last very long. But when March 25 rolled around and we had been together a month, I knew I couldn’t waste this opportunity to commemorate the milestone. I knew that had I gotten her a rose, it would have easily scared her off. I also knew that I couldn’t just buy her something because that would be boring, and I couldn’t take her out on a date that night, because we had a commitment to be at some friends’ house for an event. But I had to do something. I couldn’t let such a grand date pass by. So, I thought to myself, “What is the most subtle but most meaningful thing I can do in this case?” Then I remembered the wine glass and the baby rose she had given me. The baby rose had been drying out and I needed to return the glass. “I know what I’ll do,” I thought. So I headed to the university bookstore. …
Meanwhile, seven years before, well, I guess I’ll let my wife take it from here …
Natasha: In the summer of 1999, after graduating high school, I was in a relationship with a person who, on paper seemed like the right one, but deep down I knew something was missing. And he had given me a promise ring, but in the depth of my heart I was unsettled and I thought that part of that unsettled feeling was because he didn’t have the same fervor for Christ as I did. So I asked him to go on a retreat with me. That summer, we went with a group of people from church. The entire retreat was really good and then the high point of the retreat was on Saturday night when the priest does a procession with the Eucharist. During this time I begged for light as to my current relationship situation. I begged for his conversion and I begged for peace in my own heart and then the Holy Spirit hit me. God told me not to be afraid, to let go of the relationship that I was in because he had better plans for me. I would meet my spouse in Steubenville after a period of deep trial and testing. But then I heard the evil one say that I couldn’t do it, and I felt that there was some truth to that. So I turned to St. Thérèse of Lisieux and sought her help. I told St. Thérèse that I needed affirmation that she heard my prayer and also that with regard to my vocation, I did not want a rose, I told her that I wanted anything other than that, but it needed to be clear that it was from her.
Kevin: I have to interject here: St. Thérèse has often been known to intervene in people’s lives by sending a rose from heaven as an answer to a novena (which is simply nine days of prayer for some intention). However, guys give roses all the time, so this could be a difficult task for St. Thérèse and a confusing sign to discern. Natasha did receive some of that affirmation from St. Thérèse at the conference. This is one of my favorite stories. She spoke before 5,000 youth at the conference and told them that perhaps they too were called to something better if those relationships they were in were not God’s best for them. On stage, she broke up with this boyfriend and confessed that perhaps she might be called to religious life. Walking off stage more alone than before, St. Thérèse would soon give Natasha a sign that she was with her. Moved by my future wife’s testimony, a woman came up to her the next day and gave her a necklace with three roses on it, saying, “you are called.” She knew St. Thérèse was listening and would send her help.
Natasha: Seven years later, after several attempts at doing the novena to St. Thérèse and no answer, I did it one last time. And on the 9th day, Kevin returned my miniature wine glass with holy water and a small prayer card of St. Thérèse the “Little Flower” sitting in the vase as if to indicate that she herself is the flower. I was blind to the sign and it wasn’t until the feast day of St. Thérèse nearly 7 months later after Kevin and I were engaged, after a great deal of difficulty, I looked back to that day and realized with most certainty that this was a match conceived in heaven.
Kevin: Yes, when I went to the bookstore to find something to commemorate our “one-month-anniversary” I had no idea that Natasha was in the final day of a novena to St. Thérèse. She hadn’t told anyone. I stood before the rack of prayer cards for something between 10 and 20 minutes trying to talk myself out of this idea and into simply going to Kroger’s and picking up a few roses for her, but the “Little Flower” (as St. Thérèse has been called by so many) would not let me. So I bought the prayer card, the best 50 cents I had ever spent, and proceeded with my idea. “She loves St. Thérèse,” I thought, “now this will help her pray to her more.” I put the card in the glass and filled it with holy water (after all, flowers need water, don’t they?) and showed up at her door hoping my idea (or rather, Thérèse’s idea) would not bomb.
Well, now we’re married. And we love St. Thérèse so much that we decided to name our firstborn after our beloved Little Flower in heaven.
I want to tell you a story about this powerful “little” saint. She was born on January 2, 1873, and died on September 30, 1897, at the age of 24. In her Story of a Soul she wrote about the deep love for Jesus which made her do all things, even the smallest action, done out of love for him.
I will certainly write more about her life and writings in the future. But for now, I will focus on the role she has played in my life, and the life of my family. I must confess that early in my Catholicity, when I heard stories about this “little” saint, I found her to be a little too sentimental for me. I preferred the stories of the great martyrs and the theologians who wrote so eloquently about the mysteries of God. But this one herself tracked me down.
When I first came to Steubenville, the apartment I moved into had been dedicated to St. Thérèse of Lisieux by my landlord. An 8-by-11 image of St. Thérèse hung over the front door of the apartment. I saw her face every time I left the apartment, and she watched me come and go, biding her time.
Of course, everyone knows that when I came to school as a graduate student, I met my future wife at orientation. I fell in love with her instantly. All signs in my life had pointed to Natasha. So when I met her, I knew within weeks that my search for the woman had ended. It was either this one or no one at all. So after asking her out three times and several months of waiting for her to realize the attraction I knew she had for me in the first place, she finally agreed to date me. We went on our first date on February 25, 2006.
But the clock must be turned back briefly before moving ahead. Before I asked Natasha out for the final time, I had begun to discern priesthood. It had seemed that she was clearly the one, and it just wasn’t working out, so perhaps I was called to be a priest, I thought. When I was at the March for Life in Washington in January of that year, I had felt a very strong call when I was at the Mass for Life in the MCI Center in Washington. At the end of Mass, Cardinal Keeler asked if any young men in the audience thought that maybe, just maybe, God was calling them to the priesthood, and that they please stand. Having resisted this possibility all my life, I now found myself on my feet! As the French say, “Incroyable!” It was as something from within had compelled me. I made my friends swear not to tell my mother, because I thought this must have been for real.
I found this thought very frightening – not the chastity part, though. That would be easy. What would be hard would be to give up my lifelong desire for a wife and family. I have always wanted children, and priesthood seemed unthinkable until now. I admit that my desire to say Mass had been increasing, but I was too great a sinner to be a priest! Priests are to be holy. But it seemed that this is what God was calling me to.
So now with this stage set, I began to discern priesthood. Yet, three weeks later, I was in prayer on February 14 (the feast of Sts. Cyril and Methodius) praying about this before the Eucharist, and I heard very clearly in my heart, “Ask her out again.” (Atheists like to mock Christians who believe God talks to them in prayer. If they could hear the clarity with which I “heard” those words, they would no longer mock. A little voice in my head? Hardly. A loving and clear voice in my heart – and that is precisely “where” I “heard” it, or rather, Him.) I am convinced that St. Thérèse herself talked Our Lord into this scheme, and I think that will become clear later. But when I heard the Lord say this, I reminded him, “Lord, did you not hear? Where you not there?” (After I had asked Natasha out for the final time, I frustratedly told her, “Well, if you ever want to go out with me, you’re gonna have to ask me out yourself, because I’m not asking anymore.” Now I was gonna have to do it again! I am reminded of the time when Homer Simpson cried out to God and he responded in a way unforeseen. Homer said, “Why do you mock me, O Lord!” Oh, the gall of God, indeed! He thinks he’s sooo funny!) Presuming that she would reject me once again and this would be the detachment I needed in my soul, I wondered if I had not been purged enough of my need for human acceptance and needed further rejection for purification. Then I heard, “There is no pain that you can cause in her or she can cause in you that I can’t take care of myself.” These words filled me with both peace and joy and equipped me well for my new mission.
So the final time I asked Natasha out, I tried a different strategy, because the others weren’t working. We went to Mass together on Sunday, Feb. 19, like always. After lunch at Applebee’s I asked her out. “I’m asking you out again,” I said, “I want to take you swing-dancing on Saturday. But this time, I am not going to accept your ‘no’ until the weekend. Think about it, pray about it, and let me know.”
She didn’t say no instantly (a great victory!), and so we embarked upon a very interesting week. We hung out Monday, and I felt confident. We had class together on Tuesday, and I gave her a cheesy second-graderish note saying, “Do you like me? Circle one: yes, no, maybe so.” I even borrowed coloring pencils from our neighbors for effect. I still felt confident. Wednesday and Thursday, however, were unbearably long days. Before I put myself out of my misery on Thursday night by going to sleep early, Natasha called me to go to Eucharistic adoration together. Afterwards, she said, “What are you doing on Saturday?” Woohoo, a “yes”! She finally accepted! Friday, the day before our date, was a bit of a surprise, though. When I arrived at work, I noticed a miniature wine glass with a white baby rose in it at my desk sitting on top of a piece of paper. I thought it was for Christie, my co-worker (and Natasha’s future maid-of-honor). But no, Natasha had left it for me. The note was the one I had given her earlier in the week. In bright yellow highlighter, she had circled “maybe so.”
Since I had been shot down so many times already, I didn’t expect our “dating” to last very long. But when March 25 rolled around and we had been together a month, I knew I couldn’t waste this opportunity to commemorate the milestone. I knew that had I gotten her a rose, it would have easily scared her off. I also knew that I couldn’t just buy her something because that would be boring, and I couldn’t take her out on a date that night, because we had a commitment to be at some friends’ house for an event. But I had to do something. I couldn’t let such a grand date pass by. So, I thought to myself, “What is the most subtle but most meaningful thing I can do in this case?” Then I remembered the wine glass and the baby rose she had given me. The baby rose had been drying out and I needed to return the glass. “I know what I’ll do,” I thought. So I headed to the university bookstore. …
Meanwhile, seven years before, well, I guess I’ll let my wife take it from here …
Natasha: In the summer of 1999, after graduating high school, I was in a relationship with a person who, on paper seemed like the right one, but deep down I knew something was missing. And he had given me a promise ring, but in the depth of my heart I was unsettled and I thought that part of that unsettled feeling was because he didn’t have the same fervor for Christ as I did. So I asked him to go on a retreat with me. That summer, we went with a group of people from church. The entire retreat was really good and then the high point of the retreat was on Saturday night when the priest does a procession with the Eucharist. During this time I begged for light as to my current relationship situation. I begged for his conversion and I begged for peace in my own heart and then the Holy Spirit hit me. God told me not to be afraid, to let go of the relationship that I was in because he had better plans for me. I would meet my spouse in Steubenville after a period of deep trial and testing. But then I heard the evil one say that I couldn’t do it, and I felt that there was some truth to that. So I turned to St. Thérèse of Lisieux and sought her help. I told St. Thérèse that I needed affirmation that she heard my prayer and also that with regard to my vocation, I did not want a rose, I told her that I wanted anything other than that, but it needed to be clear that it was from her.
Kevin: I have to interject here: St. Thérèse has often been known to intervene in people’s lives by sending a rose from heaven as an answer to a novena (which is simply nine days of prayer for some intention). However, guys give roses all the time, so this could be a difficult task for St. Thérèse and a confusing sign to discern. Natasha did receive some of that affirmation from St. Thérèse at the conference. This is one of my favorite stories. She spoke before 5,000 youth at the conference and told them that perhaps they too were called to something better if those relationships they were in were not God’s best for them. On stage, she broke up with this boyfriend and confessed that perhaps she might be called to religious life. Walking off stage more alone than before, St. Thérèse would soon give Natasha a sign that she was with her. Moved by my future wife’s testimony, a woman came up to her the next day and gave her a necklace with three roses on it, saying, “you are called.” She knew St. Thérèse was listening and would send her help.
Natasha: Seven years later, after several attempts at doing the novena to St. Thérèse and no answer, I did it one last time. And on the 9th day, Kevin returned my miniature wine glass with holy water and a small prayer card of St. Thérèse the “Little Flower” sitting in the vase as if to indicate that she herself is the flower. I was blind to the sign and it wasn’t until the feast day of St. Thérèse nearly 7 months later after Kevin and I were engaged, after a great deal of difficulty, I looked back to that day and realized with most certainty that this was a match conceived in heaven.
Kevin: Yes, when I went to the bookstore to find something to commemorate our “one-month-anniversary” I had no idea that Natasha was in the final day of a novena to St. Thérèse. She hadn’t told anyone. I stood before the rack of prayer cards for something between 10 and 20 minutes trying to talk myself out of this idea and into simply going to Kroger’s and picking up a few roses for her, but the “Little Flower” (as St. Thérèse has been called by so many) would not let me. So I bought the prayer card, the best 50 cents I had ever spent, and proceeded with my idea. “She loves St. Thérèse,” I thought, “now this will help her pray to her more.” I put the card in the glass and filled it with holy water (after all, flowers need water, don’t they?) and showed up at her door hoping my idea (or rather, Thérèse’s idea) would not bomb.
Well, now we’re married. And we love St. Thérèse so much that we decided to name our firstborn after our beloved Little Flower in heaven.
3 comments:
Great story. St. Therese is amazing and has meant a lot to me in my life.
Just found your blog, Kevin, and am hopeful for the future when I read about you "youngsters"!
The Little Flower is one of my dear friends also. God bless your family.
Thanks for the comments, and thank you for your readership!
I am thankful for the Feast of All Saints a month after Therese's feast day - another opportunity to remember what a great example she is for all the Church!
God bless you both!
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