Thursday, 2nd Week: Trust In The Lord

Blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD, whose hope is the LORD. He is like a tree planted beside the waters that stretches out its roots to the stream; It fears not the heat when it comes, its leaves stay green. In the year of drought it shows no distress, but still bears fruit. - Jeremiah 17:7-8

Humans are a curious species. We like to know how and why things work; how and why this happened instead of that. We are obsessed with the causes that lead to certain effects, constantly seeking answers to questions that sometimes incite more questions. We are led to think that curiosity alone is the driving force behind our constant need to know. In the end, we are all simply guilty of wanting the answer to one question – why do “bad things” happen to us?

Sometimes, one unfavorable situation has a tendency to multiply, one after the other, until we feel we are sitting in a bottomless pit of despair, and the first instinct is to victimize ourselves into believing that we are being punished by the universe, or worse, by God.

When I entered a large public university after four years at a small, private Catholic all-girls’ high school, I thought I was ready to start my future as an adult. I would live away from home, study to be a chemical engineer and in between, still find a way to have a social life before graduating. It was a dream that I didn’t prepare hard enough to achieve and the first two years of college were spent trying to decipher physics, calculus and chemical formulas – things I couldn’t bring myself to want to understand. I performed so poorly in my classes that I was placed on academic probation, something I’d never, in all my years as a student, had to endure. I spent a lot of time feeling hopeless and pitiful, constantly asking the Lord why I’d wasted so much time studying to be someone that He obviously doesn’t want me to be. I was forced to take courses unrelated to science and engineering, and it was then that I discovered that God had other plans for me.

God always has other plans for us, and the hardships we encounter along the way are part of those plans. But instead of learning from those difficult situations, we often resist and question God’s intentions. Even Jesus, in the Garden of Gethseman, prayed, “If it be possible, let this cup pass from Me.” This Lenten season, let us take the cup which the Lord hands us. Only in trusting Him can we be delivered.

reflected by Anna Lissa Gonda

Wednesday, 2nd Week: Sorrows and Joys Are Pathways to New Life

"But Jesus answered, "You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I am about to drink?" – Matthew 20:22 

"Are we able to drink the cup?" is a most challenging and radical question we face. The cup is the cup of our humanity – the unique way which we react and respond to people and things. Drinking our cups means allowing persons, things, and events to be, to resonate fully as they are in our lived experience. It involves a consistent openness and vulnerability to life, allowing its full spectrum of sorrows and joys to flow within and over us, without having the control things.

To be honestly and truly ourselves in such an unflinching, undefended way is extremely difficult. We know well the price of such receptive attitudes. Yet, fully drinking the cup of our joys and sorrows becomes a sipping of the cup of salvation. Through his suffering and death, Jesus brings us new life. As we empty our cups to the bottom, we become more united with Christ Crucified while God fills our cups with “water” for eternal life. Our life bears greater meaning; we grow in compassion, especially for ourselves. We not only drink, we grow in intimacy with Jesus. We become the cup of blessing.

"Lord, which sorrows and joys do you I invite me to drink deeply today?”

inspired by Henri Nouwen

Tuesday, 2nd Week: Serving the Least Embraces God’s Reconciling Love

“The greatest among you must be your servant. Whoever exalts himself will be humbled;

but whoever humbles himself will be exalted.” – Mt 23:12

“Make justice your aim: redress the wronged, hear the orphan’s plea, defend the widow.” - Is 1:17

Both the Jewish and Christian traditions imagine a God who stands with the poor and the powerless. Jesus shows a clear referential option or love for the poor. Outreach to the marginalized and opposing injustices are not extra expressions of faith, they are integral to our embrace of God’s love. 

The Lenten call to repentance consists of reconciliation, a bringing together. Bringing together how we practice and what we preach; closing the gap between “the haves” and the “haves not”; embracing our identity in God’s unconditional love and letting go of a sense of self that comes from possessions, prestige, power, or entitlement; allowing God to heal us and going beyond ourselves to serve the least among us. While we serve, we realize the Pharisees within each of us: we serve and redress wrong from a place of power and privilege; we “stand over” people; we are often motivated more by the need to be recognized or liked by others than the desire to honor God. At the same time, we realize the call to “stand with” those we serve, to face our illusions of control, to share in our common poverty – our utter need for God’s healing and mercy. Jesus calls us to servant leadership so that we may be embraced by God’s reconciling love as we serve and stand with the poor.

“Lord, help me to concretely embrace your love by standing on the side of the poor and powerless.”

Monday, 2nd Week: Forgiveness - Seeing with God’s Compassion

"Be merciful just as your Father is merciful. Do not judge, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven." – Luke 6:36-37

We are all wounded people. Who wounds us? Often by those whom we love and those who love us. When we feel rejected, abandoned, abused, manipulated, or violated, it is mostly by people very close to us: our parents, our friends, our spouses, our lovers, our children, our neighbors, our teachers, our pastors. We too, wound those close to us. That's the tragedy of our lives. This is what makes forgiveness from the heart difficult. It is precisely our hearts that are wounded. We cry out, “You, who I expect to be there for me, you have abandoned me. How can I ever forgive you for that?”

Forgiveness often seems impossible, but nothing is impossible for God. It involves seeing with the eyes of God, with the heart of Christ. This has been very helpful in my life: to imagine myself in the presence of Jesus/God and “sit with” the pains of hurt, abandonment, or betrayal. To be in God’s healing presence; even with Jesus forsaken on the cross. Gradually, mysteriously, we may begin to see through the heart of things, that we inadvertently place our longing for unconditional love in limited, frail human beings. We may begin to see with God’s great compassion that we are all wounded people, that we all long to live deep within the very heart of God, to be God’s Beloved. This is not easy, but Jesus has already and is walking that path with us. With God, all things are possible.

"Lord, help me to forgive all who have hurt me. With whom are you inviting me to begin?”

inspired by Henri Nouwen

Sunday, 2nd Week: Prayer and Solitude Help Us Listen to God

“This is my chosen Son; listen to him.” – Lk 9:35

“You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.” – Lk 3:22

Many voices vie for our attention. They can be placed in two camps. One is for us; the other is against us.

The first and louder kind says, “Prove that you are a good person,” or “You’d better be ashamed of yourself,” or “Nobody really cares about you,” or “You’re a nobody because you don’t have anybody,” or “You’ve done THAT! God can no longer love you!” or ‘You’re never be ______ enough”  This type of voice demands that we make ourselves more successful, popular, powerful, and even holy in order to be accepted and loved.  It is so ingrained in us and permeates our social climate that going against it involves a struggle against the dominant attitude.  It involves a kind of suffering.

Yet, beneath all these often very noisy voices a still, small voice whispers, “You are my Beloved, on whom my favor rests.” That's the voice we need to hear most of all. To hear that voice, however, requires serious willingness; it requires solitude, silence, and a strong determination to listen. It may take time to get past those deafening voices telling us that our worth is directly proportional to how well we perform or to what we possess.

Listening to the second voice, which is gentler and deeper than human language, is essentially the journey of Lent.  It is also the discipline of prayer: letting God’s voice express to you and I, in our own unique way, that we are “Beloved of God.”  The more we allow this truth to ground and root our way of seeing and being, the more we are empowered to treat others as God’s beloved.  Jesus kept going back to this center of his life.  We are called to do likewise.

"Lord, help me to devote time for prayer and solitude. Help me to listen to your voice within.”

Saturday of the First Week of Lent

“But I say to you, love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your heavenly Father…”   Matt 5:44-45
 
Every day I wake up with the intention to follow the way of the Lord, the road of love.  At times, this can be easier said than done.   The road of the Lord is an inclusive love which suffers all things.  Yet how do I continue to follow this path of love when love, respect, and appreciation are often not returned?   These are thoughts that seem to carry over into various aspects of my life.  Why is it so hard to rid myself of them once and for all?  It seems to be a constant struggle.
 
I asked God these very questions.  The answer which came asked me, “Is My love not enough for you? Do you seek to please others more than to please Me?  Stop desiring something in return.  My love is sufficient for you.  Rest in Me and be blessed all the days of your life.”
 
As I go through this Lenten experience, I will keep God’s response and promise infused in my heart and mind.   If I drift back to old ways or thoughts, they are there to comfort and bring me back to the way of the Lord, the road of love, which is full of blessings.  They will help me remember it’s not about me.  It’s about the glory of God and the furtherance of His kingdom.
 
What obstacles do I encounter on my road of love?  Have I given these obstacles to God?  
Have I allowed His answer to penetrate my existence and bless me? 
 
All that is, is His, and He is all that is.
 
reflected by Ruth Clarke Ragin

Feast of the Chair of Saint Peter, Apostle: Listening Wholeheartedly

He said to them, “But who do you say that I am?”
Simon Peter said in reply, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” - Matthew 16:13-19

During our life journey, it is natural to catch ourselves in moments where we ask, “What is life really all about?” Sometimes reflection comes not at the end of life, but before questions of life. For the followers of Christ, that same question was asked in another way, “Who are you, Jesus?” Although the disciples were following Jesus, they were probably wondering about his place in God’s plan. When Simon Peter replied, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God,” it marked a turning point for all of them. The man whom they had simply called ‘rabbi’ or ‘teacher’ was now acknowledged as the Messiah.

We cannot know someone if we do not spend time with them. Learning about another person can often require personal contact, above all, listening to him or her. Ten years ago, I moved to New York from California for my career and it was a period in my life where I felt most alone. Working in the investment industry, my days and evenings were filled with relentless hours focusing on stocks and the portfolio of others. It was exciting in the beginning, but I grew tired of it. Taking the train home each night, I would often think about, “What is the point in all of this?” or “Is this what life is all about?” My questions led me to spend more time with Him and opportunities to share my struggles and dreams.

The test of any relationship is how committed people are to each other. At some point, a person dating will wonder how serious their partner is about them? During times of difficulty, one may ask who they can count or rely on? In a work environment, we may question whether the hours committed are of worth and value to whom we are serving? Likewise, our Lord wonders about us. Jesus is interested in knowing what we think of him. What does Christ mean to us? Is he a picture on a holy card? Or does he have a real place in our life?

Lord, help me to love my faith as an expression of my personal relationship with you...

reflected by Tam Lontok

Thursday of the First Week of Lent: Earnest Prayer and Acts of Trust

“God of Abraham, God of Isaac, and God of Jacob, blessed are you. Help me, who am alone and have no help but you, for I am taking my life in my hand.” - Est C:14

Jesus' counsel in today's Gospel reveals a God who promises to answer those who call out for help.  “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you" Mt 7:7. God is a generous giver indeed. But then, why do many of our prayers remain unanswered?  When struggling with believing in God's goodness and love, my responses sound like these: "God does not care," "God is too busy,'" or "God is not able."  When I trust God's wisdom, my responses look like these: (1) "What we ask for is not good for us." (2) "What we ask for is not good for us now." (3) "God is preparing something better."

Then there's the story of Esther.  Esther was an orphan and underground Jew who eventually became the Queen of Persia.  When the highest ranking official of King Xerxes pushed a decree to exterminate all Jewish people in the Persian Empire, she fasted for three days and called on the Jewish community to do the same.  She prayed with deep reliance as in today's first reading.  Then she approached the king using great foresight and maneuvering as well as her gifts of resourcefulness, diplomacy, and physical beauty.  The king was persuaded and voided the decree.  The fruits of Esther's fasting, earnest prayer, and use of her gifts to the best of her ability helped many people.  Her answered prayer involved a combination of God's grace and human ingenuity.

I am reminded of an enigmatic saying by St. Ignatius of Loyola: "Pray as if everything depends on you.  Work as if everything depends on God." He adds elsewhere, "pray while you work and work while you pray."  While hard to live by, I find that this combination of work and prayer gives me greater peace and joy.  Peace in realizing that the pressure is not on me since God is really in-charge.  Joy in realizing that I get to be on God's team, witnessing the bearing of more lasting fruits.  When I find myself cleaving to God in prayer and using my gifts and talents the best way I can, my heart becomes more free. Whether or however prayers are answered (or not), I am able to sleep better knowing that I am trusting through earnest prayer and action. 

Lord, help me realize in whom I place greater trust when I pray and act, in myself or in you? What do you think about that, Lord?

Wednesday, 1st Week: God Wants to Forgive and Heal

Jesus preached to the people, asking them to repent, just as the Ninevites had done, saying, "They turned from their sins when they heard Jonah preach." - Luke 11:32

An old legend portrays what takes place outside the gates of Heaven after the world ends. The last group of saints and repentant sinners has just climbed up the golden stairway that connects the earth to Heaven. Everyone is in a festive mood, singing, and dancing. Everyone excepts Jesus. He stands alone at the top of the stairs, looking towards earth. He is obviously looking for someone. When a saint asks Him who it is, Jesus says, “I’m looking for Judas, hoping he may have had a change of heart before he died and join us."

The God of Jesus has no room for hatred, desire for revenge, or pleasure in seeing us punished. God wants to forgive, heal, restore, show us endless mercy, and see us come home. But just as the father in the “Prodigal Son” parable lets both of his sons make their own decisions, God gives us the freedom to refuse divine love, even at the risk of destroying ourselves. Hell is not God's choice. It is ours. God's choice is to forgive, heal, and embrace completely.

"In what area of my life might I long for yet resist a deeper conversion of heart?
Might this affect the way I forgive someone who has hurt me?" 

inspired by Mark Link SJ

Tuesday of the First Week of Lent

We say the Lord’s Prayer so often that we usually do not pay attention to what we are
saying, but each word is carefully chosen and filled with meaning. I know a man who,
faced with imminent death from cancer, decided to go through the Lord’s Prayer word
by word. A week later he was still on the first two words, as if he had all the time in the
world.
 
Here is a short summary of what he said:
 
Look at the word “father.” God created us and takes care of us. He is a good and loving
father. Now consider the word “our.” Who does this include? Well, God created the
whole universe, even the tiniest particles so far away that the strongest telescope can’t
detect them. Since God created all of us, then everyone and even everything in the
universe has God for its heavenly father. That makes these my brothers and sisters. Not
only are everyone on this planet, but even the rocks on the farthest planet are my kin.
Yes, even the rocks are my brothers. We are all connected by God, our Father. We are
all family. How wonderful is this? Knowing this brings a profound peace and joy.

Wouldn’t it be a blessing to reflect prayerfully on each word in the Lord’s Prayer this
Lenten season, listening to the nuances and implications?

reflected by Sharon Sullivan

Monday, 1st Week: Choose Love By Taking Small Steps Daily

“You shall not hate in your heart anyone of your kin; you shall reprove your neighbor, or you will incur guilt yourself. You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against any of your people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself.” - Leviticus 19:17-18

Often we speak of love as if it were a feeling. Rather, it is a choice. A continual choice: a commitment to nurture the spiritual growth of ourselves or another. Yes, it is difficult to choose love when we have experienced so little of it. Nevertheless, we can choose love by taking small steps of self-giving love. A smile, a handshake, a word of encouragement, a phone call, a card, an embrace, a kind greeting, a gesture of support, a moment of attention, a helping hand, a present, a financial contribution, a visit – all these are little steps toward love. It may even involve taking more rest or better self-care so that we can better care for others.

St Thérèse of Lisieux reminds us that love lies not in the magnitude of the deed but in the totality of the self-giving. Mother Teresa puts it similarly: “We can do no great deeds, only small deeds with great love.” In choosing to love through simple self-giving deeds, we are acting into a new way of being. These small steps ground our love in the One who is Love, beyond our feelings.

“O Lord, help me to take the small steps of love I need to take today.”

inspired by Henri Nouwen

First Sunday of Lent: From Loneliness to a Deeper Connection

“Filled with the Holy Spirit, Jesus returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit into the desert for forty days, to be tempted by the devil.” - Lk 4:1

“Because he clings to me in love, I will deliver him.” - Ps 91:14

We never talk about loneliness; yet, it is prevalent. It visits us all. Yet, conventional wisdom frowns upon it. It is bad to feel lonely. However, loneliness affects us all, so much that some of us are paralyzed by fear; and many of us throw ourselves into a maelstrom of activities in an ineffective escape from loneliness.

We never talk about loneliness; yet, it is prevalent. It visits us all. Yet, conventional wisdom frowns upon it. It is bad to feel lonely. However, loneliness affects us all. It paralyzes some of us with fear and throws many of us into a maelstrom of activities, especially when we deny the feelings that accompany loneliness.

Jesus allowed the Spirit to lead him into the desert. There, he faced his suffocating loneliness and its temptations. He clung to God in love and was delivered. Through it, he grew more radically dependent on God_Abba; he came to a deeper realization of who he was and who he was called to be – the Beloved called to reconcile others with God. Like him, when we are open to our loneliness - our particular kind of suffering - something creative happens. Illusions are exposed and truths emerge, allowing us to stand with others who suffer their particular loneliness. And even though ours and theirs are not the same loneliness, solidarity is born. Compassion grows. Moreover, we come to know and love Jesus more intimately. Mysteriously, we grow in greater intimacy with ourselves, others, and Jesus. On the way, our heart becomes more tender and closer to the heart of God.

Embracing loneliness sounds much better than it feels. Recently, the flu left me bedridden for over two weeks. It happened at a very importune time when many people depended on me. I was tempted to focus on myself, to allow self-blame and self-judgment significant real estate in my mind and heart. Yet, somehow, that did not happen. Grace happened instead: I became gentler with myself. I let Christ hold me, rest with me, sleep with me, and cared for me through my family. My siblings and their spouses were unforgettably kind and sweet, nursing me with food and tender love. Through the long sickness with its share of loneliness, I grew in connection with others, with God, and with myself.

“Jesus, help us to enter our loneliness with you and cling to God.”

Saturday after Ash Wednesday: Human Love Reflects God’s Love

Jesus answered, "Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick; I have come to call not the righteous but sinners to repentance." - Luke 5:31-32

It is not easy for us to accept that we are sick, broken, in need of healing. Some of our wounds come from longing to be loved unconditionally by other people. While our parents, brothers, sisters, teachers, friends, or spouses can love us in deep and meaningful ways, their love cannot fully satisfy our deep longing. While human loves can reflect God’s love without condition, they are limited and broken. No human love fulfills our hearts desire, and sometimes human love is so imperfect that we can hardly recognize it as love.

When our broken love is the only love we experience, we are easily thrown into despair. But when we live our broken love as a partial reflection of God's perfect, unconditional love, we can forgive one another and enjoy the love we have to offer. When we acknowledge ourselves as sinners who expect people to love us perfectly as God loves, we make space in for God. We allow God’s indwelling Spirit to heal our wounds, purifies our desires, and unites us with God, whose personal and abiding love surpasses our wildest imaginations.

“O God, help me to seek in You more than in others the perfect love they cannot give.”

               

inspired by Henri Nouwen

Friday after Ash Wednesday: Drawing Closer

Jesus answered them, “Can the wedding guests mourn as long as the bridegroom is with them? The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast.” - Matthew 9:14-15

Hungering for God and fasting for his kingdom go hand in hand. When asked why he and his disciples did not fast, Jesus used the story of a wedding feast to illustrate the nature of his relationship with his disciples. He considered himself as the bridegroom and the disciples as his friends celebrating in the feast. He alludes how God takes delight in his people and experiencing God’s presence is pure joy and happiness. But Jesus also mentions to his followers that there is a time to rejoice in the Lord’s goodness and a time to seek Him with humility, fasting, and mourning for a sin.

Lent is a somber time for remembering and reflection. Quite the opposite is true of birthdays. It has been over a year since my husband’s grandmother passed away. The feeling of happiness when remembering her and somberness of recalling her illness and death would commingle in this Lenten season. For many months, it seemed as if there was no illness at all. Our visits were punctuated by joyous laughter in celebrating her life. It was not until late October 2011, where we received a phone call from our cousin and left to Toronto immediately to be by her side. The sleepless nights weakened our energy and we found ourselves leaning and resting in God’s trust through prayer. Our conversations became more focused on what was most important in each of our lives.

On every Friday of Lent, we abstain from meat as a sign of common penance. It is a way of marking the memory of Jesus and creating space in ourselves to focus on Him. When we set aside our cravings to concentrate on prayer, we are seeking God with all our heart...humbling and weakening ourselves before Him and leaning on His strength. Fasting, however, is not just food. It could be anything to grow in our hunger for God. True fasting will lead us into acting justly and caring for those who are most in need.

Do I seek the Lord with confident trust and allow his Holy Spirit to transform my life?

Lord, help me to use your love as a way to persevere in my Lenten intentions and draw closer to you...

reflected by Tam Lontok

Thursday after Ash Wednesday: Allowing Ourselves to be Uncomfortable

“He instructed them to take nothing for the journey but a walking stick – no food, no sack, no money in their belts.” – Mark 6:8

It’s that time of year again. We’ve gotten our ashes, perhaps thought about what we want to give up during Lent, or what we might try to do during this time. Basically, it’s time to get uncomfortable. And I’m not sure I like that idea right now. In fact, I’m not sure I ever have. Sure, growth and change are noble endeavors, but when it comes down to it that means a lot of hard work. A lot of moments of doubt and questioning: Am I doing the right thing? Is this really meant for me? Can I really do this?

Yet it’s precisely that discomfort – and allowing myself many times to sit with it – that creates space for God. Actually, it makes space for me to become more aware of God already at work in my life. In that uneasiness, I’m reminded of my inability to control, to know, and in some cases to even understand. There’s an invitation to let go of my way of thinking to make space for something new. Somehow in embracing the fog, clarity appears. I just have to show up to see it.

Recent changes echo this very deeply for me. Among other things, I just started a new job. It’s a turn I wasn’t expecting. My fear of going in circles again surfaced. Yet the invitation to take the walking stick was there, in terms of continuing to let go of what made sense to me, and embracing the journey itself. And I can say without a doubt that I have never felt so happy and fulfilled without understanding how or why at all. Only God. Those uncomfortable moments have turned into incredible ones, even now. Only God. 

What might God be inviting me to leave behind this Lent? What might He be inviting me to make more space for?

As we celebrate Valentine’s Day today, may the grace of God’s unique love for each of us find us in a deeper way.

reflected by Quyen Ngo

Ash Wednesday: Toward New Life & Joy

“Behold, now is a very acceptable time; behold, now is the day of salvation.” – 2 Cor 6:2

The recent baptism of my nephew Joaquin was a joyous event.  He was smiling the entire time.  He usually does, but even more so on that day.  More with his eyes.  His godfather Vu and godmother Anna were beaming as well, especially as Joaquin was being lifted up and presented to God like Jesus in the temple. (Or was it like Simba in the Lion King?)

During the baptism, all of us present reveled in this realization during the rite of anointing with the chrism of salvation:  “As Christ was anointed priest, prophet, and king, so may you live always as a member of this body, sharing everlasting life.”  Our joy, to a large extent, comes from realizing that Joaquin is a child a God.  Moreover, he is God’s Beloved, like the revelation of Jesus during his baptism at the River Jordan. He shares Christ’s everlasting life.

Joaquin’s baptism points me toward this journey of Lent – a passage to new life and joy.  The journey of Lent takes us towards this central and radical truth of our spiritual identity. Through the Paschal Mystery – Jesus’ passion, death, and resurrection – we are irrevocably transformed to new life and joy as God’s Beloved.  The Lenten call to repent (change of heart) is an invitation to embrace hope, life, and new life by embracing ourselves (and others) as Beloved of God.  

Ashes are not just a sign of our mortality and penitence.  It is also a sign of our hope as we begin a journey from ashes to an Easter of new life and joy.  The Lenten disciplines are helps on this journey: (1) Prayer can help us to let God be renewed as the center of our lives. (2) Fasting can help us trust God in reordering of our bodies, minds, and hearts to healthier, more integrated ways (3) Almsgiving can help us realize that we belong to one another, to the Body of Christ, in solidarity an service.

What practice of “giving up” a vice or “picking up” a virtue can you and I adopt to better help us journey toward new life and joy in God?

Befriending God Series: Session 4 - Listening

God draws each of us into friendship. St Ignatius of Loyola believes that each of us can discover the unique way we respond to this invitation, even in the midst of our busy lives. “Befriending God: An Ignatian Way” is an eight-week experience of prayer and community that fosters 8 habits of this pathway to closer relationship with God.

This podcast is the audio recording of the presentation given at the fourth session of this prayer series, “Listening: What Am I Listening For?”

Click here for the handout in pdf.

Befriending God Series: Session 3 - Remembering

God draws each of us into friendship. St Ignatius of Loyola believes that each of us can discover the unique way we respond to this invitation, even in the midst of our busy lives. “Befriending God: An Ignatian Way” is an eight-week experience of prayer, worship, and community that fosters 8 habits of this pathway to closer relationship with God.

This podcast is the audio recording of the presentation given at the third session of this prayer series, “Remembering: Am I living in the past?”

St Ignatius recommends this way of praying to help cultivate gratitude and awareness of God’s friendship: An Examen Video

Click here for the handout in pdf.