Custody of the Heart - A Path to Union with Christ

The hidden sanctity of Elisabeth Leseur’s interior life

Sep 19, 2025

The Hidden Garden of the Heart

I often find myself drawn to the life and interior world of Elisabeth Leseur.

Elisabeth Leseur was a woman who quietly bore great interior trials. Her husband, Félix, was a prominent atheist and fiercely opposed to her faith. Yet through silent suffering, loving fidelity, and deep interior prayer, she cultivated a hidden life of grace. It was only after her death that he discovered her secret journals and experienced a profound conversion. Félix eventually becoming a Dominican priest.

Elisabeth’s life invites us to reflect on what the Church has always cherished: the custody of the heart. This isn’t a poetic flourish. It’s a lived disposition. A discipline of attention to the movements of our soul. A spiritual vigilance. A quiet readiness to allow Christ to reign within.

Custody of the heart calls us to imitate Christ in the interior of our being.

What Is Custody of the Heart?

Custody of the heart is the spiritual practice of interior watchfulness. It is the art of tending to our thoughts, affections, and desires so that they are conformed not to the noise of the world, but to the voice of Christ.

It is rooted in the ancient wisdom of the Church. The Desert Fathers spoke often of nepsis—spiritual sobriety and vigilance. It is simply "keeping of the heart with all diligence" (cf. Prov 4:23). And in our own times, figures like St. John Paul II and St. Teresa of Calcutta remind us that the heart is the place where the real drama of grace unfolds.

This practice is not repression. It is not spiritual rigidity. It is an act of love.

It is the soul saying: “Lord, make my heart a garden where only You walk.”

Living the Custody of the Heart: Five Questions to Carry in Prayer

One way to enter into this practice is to ask ourselves, again and again, five simple but searching questions. Each one is an invitation to imitate Jesus in our interior life:

1. Where am I going, and why?

This question reorients us. In a distracted world, our affections often scatter. Custody of the heart calls us to pause and recollect:

“Am I moving toward Christ, or away from Him?”

Let your heart whisper: “Lord, lead me along the narrow path. Let my steps not wander far from You.”

2. What would Christ do at this moment?

This question roots us in the Gospel. Jesus is not a distant model but a living companion. Asking this trains our hearts in discernment.

Not just “What would be a good idea?”

But: “What would Jesus, meek and humble of heart, do here?”

3. How would Christ act in my place?

This takes it further. In moments of irritation, fatigue, temptation, or ambition. What would the gentle Heart of Jesus do in your shoes?

Would He rush?

Would He react?

Or would He quietly kneel and love?

4. What advice would Christ give to me?

In spiritual direction, saints often imagined Christ seated beside them, gently speaking.

Try it.

Close your eyes. Picture Jesus looking at you with mercy. What does He say?

Often, it is something simple: “Be not afraid.” “Love them as I have loved you.”

5. What does Christ want for me at this moment?

Not in the abstract. But now—in this hour. In this task. In this silence.

He may want surrender. He may want courage. He may want your smile.

Let your heart become still enough to hear His desire.

Growing Indifference to Creatures—For the Sake of Love

As we grow in custody of heart, we begin to care less about pleasing others, chasing comfort, or defending ourselves. But this “indifference” is not cold or rude. It is freedom. Freedom from self-love so we can love rightly.

As many of the saints have taught us, holy indifference is the readiness to do what is contrary or repugnant to our fallen nature. This is not because we are stoic, but because we love Christ.

To die to self is to make room for Christ.

And when we imitate Christ, it is He who begins to live and act in us.

Then the fruits of the Spirit—love, peace, gentleness, self-control—become not strained efforts, but natural expressions of divine life within us (cf. Gal 5:22-23).

The Fruit: Christ Acting Through Us

This is the fruit of contemplation: a spiritual life lived in union with Christ. It is not something reserved for mystics or the few. It is the quiet flowering of daily fidelity. As St. Peter reminds us, “His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness” (2 Pet 1:3). We are not left lacking. Everything we need to grow in holiness is already given to us in Him.

And when Christ begins to act in us, we begin to resemble Him. Not perfectly, not all at once, but slowly, gently. We start to see with His eyes, to forgive with His heart, and to love with His strength. It is no longer we who live, but Christ who lives in us (cf. Gal 2:20). This is the quiet miracle of grace unfolding within a soul that consents.

Elisabeth Leseur: A Witness of Custody

Elisabeth Leseur lived no public mission. She did not preach or write for acclaim. Instead, she embraced the quiet obscurity of illness and domestic life, transforming her heart into a sacred dwelling for God.

Her deepest desire was to be so closely united to God that His love would quietly radiate through her. For her, even the simplest interior acts became prayer. Her interior prayer and sacrifice were like seeds buried in silence. After her death, they blossomed into the conversion of her husband and countless souls since.

She teaches us that a heart kept for Christ is not a wasted heart. It is a heart that changes the world quietly, deeply, eternally.

What part of your heart is Christ asking you to reserve for Him today?