Catherine Marshall's Heart For God, Vol. 1

Catherine Marshall Lesourd

1914 - 1983

We are studying Catherine Marshall, A Closer Walk (1986), published three years after Catherine's death. A collaborative effort between Catherine's second husband Len Lesourd, and her longtime friend and editor, Elizabeth Sherrill, the text includes selected entries from a 23-year span of Catherine's journal keeping. The years cover her marriage to Len in 1959 when she was 44, up until her death in 1983, when she was 68. The introduction to my Catherine Marshall series can be found here.

As we delve into Catherine's heart and mind through her journal entries, I'll start with a piece of text each time. Then I'll discuss what we can glean from it, and how we can apply it to our own walks with Jesus.

In the book's foreword, Catherine Marshall's friend and editor, Elizabeth Sherrill, writes:

Shortly after their marriage in 1959....a moving van delivered Catherine's possessions to their first home. Len watched in husbandly amusement as Catherine hovered over one particular carton, clearly attaching more value to it than to the clothes, dishes, and pieces of furniture that arrived along with it. 

"My journals," Catherine explained. 

When Len still looked blank, she drew from the box a dark green volume, four inches by seven, with "Year Book 1934" stamped on the front. Catherine had filled the book with reactions to campus life that sophomore year at Agnes Scott College in Georgia. Three more green journals in the box covered the years through 1937. 

In growing astonishment, Len helped Catherine store the volumes on a shelf. What discipline and devotion these thousands of pages represented! Where would a person find the time? 

Len soon found out. Early in the morning, Catherine would take from the dresser a bright red hardcover Daily Reminder. No amount of fatigue from the previous day spent coralling three small stepchildren, no pleas from a sleepy husband, could keep her from this daily appointment-in-waiting with God. 

When Catherine finally allowed Len to read some current entries, he understood her commitment to the discipline. These were more than simply prayer records, more even than the joyful recording of answers. The act of writing itself was part of Catherine's relationship with God; it helped define her needs, focus her prayers, act out her trust. 

There was a five-year dairy for 1938-42, recording Catherine's soul-searching as she met and eventually married Peter Marshall. Journals of various shapes and colors detailed her years as Peter's wife: the birth of their son, her own serious illness, the loss of her young husband. As a widow in the 1950's, Catherine entered her spiritual questing in a succession of spiral-bound notebooks.  (Catherine Marshall, A Closer Walk,1986, page xii)

What a telling piece of text! Powerful.

We learn that Catherine placed high value on her relationship with God, and not on the things of this world, like clothes, dishes, furniture. How many women, when moving, worry more about their journals than their material possessions?

Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, love for the Father is not in them. For everything in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—comes not from the Father but from the world. The world and its desires pass away, but whoever does the will of God lives forever. 1 John 2:15-17

Next we learn of Catherine's spiritual discipline. Spending time with the Lord took precedence over everything. 

"No amount of fatigue from the previous day spent coralling three small stepchildren, no pleas from a sleepy husband, could keep her from this daily appointment-in-waiting with God."

“Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” Matthew 22:36-40

As we cover Catherine's journal entries, you'll see how the second commandment plays out in her life. Her love for God leads her to love others better, with His love. She desired to love even the unlovable.

 The act of writing itself was part of Catherine's relationship with God; it helped define her needs, focus her prayers, act out her trust.  

I can sure relate to this. Writing is part of my relationship with God. I start with an idea and He fleshes it out as I type. By the time I get to the end of a post, what God wants from me is clearer. Many of my posts are repeat ideas, written because He thought I needed a reminder.


What makes you feel close to God? Is it singing or listening to music? Or talking it out with someone? Is it going to a quiet place and just listening? Whatever you need to feel close to God, do it. Discover what it is and make time for it.


Catherine was a growing Christian, never content to rest on the assurance of her salvation. She wanted more, and as she sought it, she fell in love with Jesus. Once she was in love, she couldn't stop pursuing Him through her love affair with Scripture. Just typing this brings tears to my eyes. There is so much more to the Christian life than salvation. Yet, so few of us seek it. And why? Why do we fill our lives with so much fluff, and so little Christ?

Her husband writes in the introduction:

"What shines through Catherine's words is that Christian growth and adventuring never stop. The search for more of the truth is endlessly absorbing: the promises God holds out are worthy of every moment of struggle, the "walk" never arrives at some static, fixed point, but leads on into ever deeper intimacy with God." Catherine Marshall, A Closer Walk, 1986, page xxvi

What I want from this series more than anything, is for us to pursue Jesus like Catherine did. Not through writing, if that isn't your way. But through something unique between you and God. Find that something.  And fall in love.

Catherine Marshall, A Closer Walk

Catherine Marshall Lesourd (1914-1983)

I live in a book-rich house. Each time we shift furniture around--we recently housed the girls in one room, the boys in another--I come across book after book in shelves, beckoning me. Mothering four young children leaves time for little else, so starting a book means Scripture or prayer, or both, must be cut short. Not to mention couple time.

My walk with Christ is the main thing; my family is the medium by which He sanctifies me. And so as I make choices about my time, my lifeblood (God) and my purpose (reflect the light of Christ for family) provide the framework for decision making.

I came across Catherine Marshall: A Closer Walk last weekend. If you've been a Christian long you've likely heard of Catherine Marshall. A prolific author, with her two books A Man Called Peter (1951) and later, Christy (1967), she gained national notoriety and was beloved by believers and non-believers alike.

Peter Marshall, her first husband, served as Pastor of New York Avenue Presbyterian Church and as Chaplain of the United States Senate. Much beloved in America, he died in 1949 from a heart attack, leaving Catherine a widow, raising nine-year-old son Peter John Marshall by herself.

A widow ten years, in 1959 Catherine married Leonard Lesourd, longtime editor of Guideposts Magazine. Nearly five years her junior, Leonard was a single dad with three young children, ages 3, 6, and 10. The couple met when Catherine was 44 years old--enjoying a successful career as a national speaker and author.

A victim of tuberculosis, which she contracted in 1943 when antibiotic treatment wasn't available, Catherine had only 75% lung functioning when she became a stepmother to Leonard's three young children. One can only imagine the prayer sessions she wrestled with, in deciding to marry Leonard just three months after their courtship began. While she certainly loved him, becoming a stepmother at age 44, with reduced lung capacity, is clearly something she did with a strength not her own.

All of her adult life Catherine kept journals in which she recorded her quiet time musings. Catherine Marshall; A Closer Walk, the book I'm now reading, was published three years after her death and includes entries from her personal journal, during her twenty-four years of marriage to Leonard. She gave her husband and her longtime editor and friend, Elizabeth Sherrill, permission to disclose the contents.

As I re-shelved dozens of books last weekend, this one stood out. The Holy Spirit seemed to say, you will make time to read this. And blog it.

The blog it part scared me. How do you summarize someone's journal? And besides, I'm horrible at summarizing. I hate it.


Despite that, I'm doing this. Out of obedience. I'm taking you along for a ride into the mind and heart of an incredible woman. She wasn't perfect, mind you. Her perfectionism even drives me crazy (a fellow perfectionist) as I read this book, edited by her husband, who provides much insight.

For example, she once had her husband drive her three hours on a hot day to buy macaroons at a certain bakery. Why? Because they were an ingredient in a sauce she wanted to make.......to top a dessert!  These preparations weren't for a wedding or other momentous occasion. It was merely a dinner party for special friends!


Catherine wasn't an incredible women because she was perfect. She was incredible because of her love for God, and because of her devotion to His word.

Join me and be inspired, will you, as we learn what genuine, unwavering devotion to God looks like?

The Finest Moments

One on my lap, one next to me in the easy chair. Freshly shampooed hair filling my nose. Soft cheeks beckoning me to stop reading every few pages and plant kisses. Pretty little legs with knee boos boos sprawled all over me. Giggles and surprises on every page. The beloved exclamation "Read it again!"

This is it. Motherhood at its finest. These moments I'll remember most vividly. Later, I'll want them again...so badly that tears will come.

Ivan the Terrier delights them this week.



Words and Pictures by Peter Catalanotto
Once upon a time there were three billy goats named Gruff. Hey, where did that dog come from?  Is it Ivan? It is! Ivan! You naughty dog! You're ruining the story! Ivan! Get back here! Ivan!


Oh well. I guess we'll have to read a different story.


Once upon a time, deep in the forest, there lived three bears. Oh, no! Sit! Ivan! Sit!..........and so it goes, delighting my four-year-old Mary especially. She can't remember the dog's name just yet, but every night she asks for "that funny dog book".

What a special gift, to be able to write a book that thrills a child. But even more special is the gift we have. Reading book after book to our children and watching them respond with such joy! So rich and special and blessed are these times.

Thank you, Father, for hair in my nostrils....for giggles in my lap....for soft cheeks to plant kisses on. Thank you for the written word....for the vivid imagination....for the delight of illustration. Thank you for all the moments that make motherhood like an earthly heaven. Thank you.

The Prayer Warrior Life: Backsliding

I write to you from the prayer warrior battle field, admitting defeat. A hard post to write.

Somehow in the last few weeks a preoccupation with financial concerns and health concerns--having a van to take four children to necessary places, like church, and surviving acute headaches--has so invaded my everyday thoughts that my mind is less focused on prayer. Previously I'd gained the ability to focus on prayer virtually anyplace I found myself. Now I must once again use my prayer blog or my mind wanders. Shamelessly.  And prayer doesn't flow in and out of my mind all day anymore, either.

Around here, anytime I sit down to a computer or journal a myriad of interruptions occur, even at night......especially now that husband is home at night and I'm no longer alone. We may have to pray together every night, just to avoid interrupting one another. He, too, has started a keyboard prayer journal, by the way.

As I felt my grip on prayer loosening, I grieved my own humanity. How can I come so far, only to fail? To backslide?

My preoccupation with vans and headaches is not due to a lessening faith. I still believe in God's provision for things that are truly needed. What I'm suffering from is weariness. Every Christian suffers from weariness at times. Missionaries often work for decades in one area before seeing sweeping or even measurable change. Mothers, missionaries in their own right, often wait years for lasting fruit in their children.

The one-income journey takes perseverance. I see fruit and I never question whether we're supposed to do this. This is God's will, no matter whether our earning potential is more fit for a third world than a first.

Now for a little diversion into my mind.

Today the kids and I took a hike to find a vacuum belt to keep our undesirable vacuum going a little longer. Hopefully. Do you know what thoughts occupied me on our drive?


If we had a dirt floor, I wouldn't need a vacuum.

A carpet--keeping it vacuumed and shampooed--is a first-world concern. And having a vehicle to get to church is a first world concern. Something tells me my correspondent child from India, Divya, doesn't need a car to get to church. And what about running out of Windex or Cascade? I wouldn't need the money for all kinds of expensive supplies if I had a simple brick and dirt house.

Yes, I'd spend time hauling water and washing clothes by hand and making sparse meals without a kitchen, but am I really better off? I work hard anyway, keeping up with our first-world environment. My prayers have changed recently for my precious Divya. I no longer ask that she have a real house and yard someday for her children. Instead, I keep up my prayers for three meals a day, for no preventable diseases, and for a long, deep walk with Christ. I mention other things too, but wanting to place her in a first-world environment is no longer one of them. (She is our correspondent child, not a sponsored child. If you don't have the means to be a sponsor--$38/mo.--but would like to encourage a child anyway, let me know and I'll post the Compassion number again, which gets you started.)

Now after that mind diversion, let me take you back to my weariness.

Remember what Jesus said to the disciples regarding their falling asleep instead of praying, near the hour of his capture? "The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak" Matthew 26:41. I'm willing to pray fervently all day--I want it with my whole heart--but my humanity is just too much sometimes.

What causes weariness? Waiting. The Christian life involves a lot of it. God changes things, answers things, relieves things, in timing that works for Him. His purpose is to magnify His glory and further His Kingdom.

Galatians 6:9
Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.

And sometimes, he simply doesn't relieve things or change things. Because not doing so magnifies His grace.

Regarding the thorn in Paul's flesh......2 Corinthians 12:9 But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 


If you've started your own prayer warrior journey--please tell me you have?--expect your humanity to get in the way sometimes. No matter how far you've come. Don't make the same mistake I did.  Don't spend time grieving over this. Expect it and move on. Fast.

To read more of my prayer journey, check out Into a Life of Prayer: A Journey Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

To read even more, check out A Day in the Life of a Prayer Warrior part 1; part 2; part 3; part 4; part 5, part 6, Part 7

A sweet friend, Amy, wrote guests posts for us, telling of her prayer journey: Vol. 1, and Vol. 2, and Vol. 3, Vol. 4, Vol. 5

No Greater Joy!

Four-year-old Mary, who rarely wakes at night, came out to the living room at 11:40 PM tonight. She occasionally has what appear to be night terrors, though they're mild ones. She cries softly and looks at me as though I'm a stranger--as though she's seeing right through me. She won't talk at all or acknowledge that I've spoken. I lead her back to bed and lie down with her.

Usually after fifteen minutes she looks at me appreciatively, as though she recognizes me finally, but she's surprised to see me in her bed. Still though, she doesn't speak. She just rolls over and goes back to sleep. At peace.

As I lay there tonight trying to comfort her without agitating her, gratitude overwhelmed me. It feels so wonderful, being a mom. Being a comforter. I'd just finished a letter to my precious penpal from India, and that too, filled me with the same gratitude.


I get to comfort children. To love them. To pray for their todays and tomorrows. I get to.

There's no greater joy!