A Love Worth Living

by John Ilkka

Around the year 1873, in a small French town, a small girl named Thérèse Martin was born. She was the youngest of four children, and she would only end up living until the age of twenty-four. Thérèse never led an army in battle, never made a scientific discovery or created a religious community, nor did she create a piece of literature that would be studied and appreciated for its grand mastery of language. Indeed, she lived such a simple life that those in her monastic community did not even know what to write about her in their community obituary. So before she died, the sisters asked Thérèse to write about her life so they could get an idea of something to say. Though she did not want to, Thérèse was obedient, and therefore she simply shared the story of her soul.

Thérèse knew that she did not have the amazing spiritual gifts that others had. She could not read souls; she was not gifted with the voice of a great preacher, nor did she receive the call to go into the streets and directly serve the poor. Despite Thérèse’s knowledge of her own limitations and meager giftings, she knew that God, our loving and caring Father, was willing to use what she had if she would just offer it up in willing service. In the story she wrote for her Mother Superior she explained what she called her “Little Way.”

The Little Way of Saint Thérèse of Lisieux did not require extraordinary skill or ability, but a heart that was willing to do even the simplest task, and do it with a whole heart, mind, body, and soul. About fifteen years after Thérèse died, another woman, who would end up taking the name Teresa in honor of the influence of Thérèse of Lisieux, would live out and bring this Little Way around the world. Mother Teresa, influenced by the Little Way, was known to say, “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” She also admonished that we can all “do ordinary things with extraordinary love.” These two women believed this was the way: that the simple and ordinary people could best serve the Kingdom of God. They lived out this Little Way by obeying superiors without complaining, by serving those who did not especially like them nor treat them kindly with love, and even by simply thanking God for whatever trial they were put through throughout their lives. 

 In my role as a prison chaplain, I have found that both living and teaching the Little Way has been an effective means to show the love of Christ to even the souls most distant from Christ. While the Little Way does not always lead immediately to the large-scale conversions we marvel at, it does help manifest the light of Christ in the darkest of places. As a chaplain, I have one-on-one conversations with men who, for one reason or another, are incarcerated. Though their crimes vary, one thing is usually consistent in their stories: they have experienced a great deal of pain, suffering, and usually either abuse or the tragic loss of a family member. This suffering is something that will require a great amount of work to overcome, something which I am unable to provide due to the jail I work in being a remand center[1]. Even though their suffering is often a result of both personal and environmental issues (crime is rarely something that comes with a simplistic cause), not to mention that being held in custody means being separated from family, I have always found that love is a universal language everybody can hear. Now, I should say that in my capacity as chaplain, I am not able to offer legal advice or make large-scale changes in the structure of the jail. However—and this is a large however—what I am able to do is be attentive to their needs, be a listening ear, and offer a smile and a caring heart as someone who strives to show active and sincere interest in them and their lives. As mentioned earlier, not everyone I encounter has left the jail changed or set on fire for Jesus. However, I receive many inmates who directly or indirectly have told me that they felt loved—sometimes for the first time in their entire lives.

My prayer always is that through the opportunities that Christ provides for me, I will be able to be an instrument of his love, and that through me, prisoners will be able to encounter the love of Christ. Now, I know that it isn’t the words that I say that change hearts, for it is only God who changes hearts. But I am able to do my part—which I believe to be the will of God—by offering the little I can with love and pointing others in the direction of Christ. 

Here is my question to you: Whom in your life is God calling you to love today? What are the little ways that you can be more attentive to your partner, children, parents, coworkers, friends, and to the strangers you encounter every day? No matter who you are and what abilities you have, your offering can just be a smile. And if that is offered with great love, it can be a life-changing event for someone. We really can be the light of Christ in this dark world!

As followers of Christ, love and charity need to be the underlying force of everything we do, or else those things are not worth doing. We all know the following verses:

“If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing (I Corinthians 13:1-3 New Revised Standard Version).

Sometimes God does call us to do big actions, but this is often for a season in our life, outside of which we can always serve by doing the small things with our whole heart of love. We can choose to love all those we encounter today, and especially have a place for those who are incarcerated and in desperate need of our love. May we truly hear the words of Christ:

 “‘I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’ And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me’” (Matthew 25:36-40).


John Ilkka, born in Thunder Bay, Ontario, is a twenty-something-year-old lover of love. He values faith, family, friends, and football. In his spare time, he likes to create and play board games while listening to podcasts.


[1] A remand center is a detention facility (jail) in which a person who was arrested and not released on bail would be held. Such individuals would remain in our care until the end of their trial, in which they would either be released or transferred to a long-term facility for the remainder of their sentence.