“Thanks. That means a lot.” Meg stood in the doorway, making sure Hannah had everything she needed. “I’m praying for you,” she said quietly before closing the door behind her.
Hannah detected something decidedly bold in that declaration.
Mara
The cafeteria at Roosevelt Junior High School buzzed with conversation. Mara trudged through the lunch line, holding tightly to her tray, avoiding eye contact with the other students. Choosing her usual table in the far back corner, she sat down by herself. At least she had remembered to bring a book to lunch. She didn’t read it. She simply stared at the pages as she ate. The book was a poor shield against her loneliness and isolation, but it was the only thing she had.
She listened as Kristie Van Buren and some other girls laughed together at a nearby table. At one point Mara thought she heard her name, and she looked up just as one of them was staring in her direction. “Such a freak,” the girl said. “I heard she missed school last week because of lice.”
“I know. It’s totally gross,” another added. “I’ve never even seen her shower after gym.”
“Well, have you seen where she lives?” the first girl asked.
Kristie answered, “Yeah! My mom never let me go over there in elementary school. She came over to my house once because my mom felt sorry for her. But she was so dirty, she wasn’t allowed to come over again.”
Bitter tears welled up as Mara continued to stare at the page, and all the words blurred together.
The second Saturday of October was a beautiful autumn day. Mara strolled across the New Hope parking lot, inhaling the scent of a wood-burning fire and listening to the crackle and crunch of leaves beneath her feet. The veil of early morning fog had lifted to reveal trees that had burst into vibrancy overnight. The colors of the season always surprised her, especially the reds. Red took her breath away.
Hannah had phoned earlier in the week to invite her to a picnic after their group, and Mara was glad she had somewhere to go with people who wanted her company. Tom had taken Kevin and Brian to their early morning football practice, and then the three of them planned to spend the rest of the day tailgating at the university. At least Mara wouldn’t have to spend another Saturday alone. She was tired of being alone. Thank you, Jesus. Thank you for new friends.
Meg and Hannah were already in the courtyard when she arrived at the labyrinth. “Mornin’!” she greeted them. “Gorgeous day, huh?” Was that Meg? Mara had never seen her looking so relaxed. It wasn’t just the jeans and red sweatshirt. Something else had changed. “You don’t look anything like the terrified woman in a skirt and heels from a month ago,” Mara commented, smiling at her.
Meg laughed. “I’m getting the hang of the pilgrimage thing. It’s been a good journey for me so far.”
“For me too,” Mara replied. “Not easy. But good.” She turned to Hannah. “You okay? You look tired.” The dark circles beneath Hannah’s eyes were even more prominent than usual, and her skin was pale.
“I’m okay,” Hannah said, bending down to fiddle with a shoelace.
Mara didn’t believe her but decided not to probe. Instead she silently prayed, asking God to give Hannah whatever help she needed. Then she stepped onto the labyrinth.
She knew what she wanted to pray about.
Now that she was beginning to understand how God loved her—now that she wasn’t feeling afraid of judgment and condemnation—she wanted to meditate on something else Katherine had said in her office. Katherine had pointed out something Mara had never noticed before: both Genesis texts about Hagar in the wilderness mentioned a well.
“You’ve been so thirsty, Mara,” Katherine had said. “And you’ve been trying to satisfy that thirst by drinking from so many different wells. But God invites you to drink deeply from one well—the well of Living Water. The Lord wants you to know that he is the Living One who sees you without condemning you.”
With that theme in mind, Katherine had recommended another meditation text for Mara: the story of Jesus meeting the Samaritan woman at the well. Mara spent all week praying with the fourth chapter of John, having no trouble finding herself in the midst of the Samaritan woman’s story. Mara knew all about being an outsider and an outcast.
She removed an index card from her pocket and read the verses she had written down: “Jesus said to her, ‘Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.’ The woman said to him, ‘Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.’”
Jesus, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty. Jesus, give me this water. Please give me this water. All my life I’ve been so thirsty. So thirsty for love. So thirsty for acceptance. So thirsty. And I haven’t been drinking the water you give. I’m sorry, Jesus.
As Mara walked the inward path, she confessed the different wells she had drawn from over the years.
She had drawn from the well of sexual gratification, but the water had been bitter.
She had drawn from the well of material possessions, but that well was filled with salt water, making her crave more and more.
She had drawn from the well of approval and acceptance, but that well was unpredictable. She never knew if there would be water or not, and even when she managed to draw some out, her bucket leaked. She couldn’t hold it. It didn’t last.
Katherine was right. There was only one well that truly satisfied, and Mara wanted to drink deeply.
She thought about the Samaritan woman running back to the village, so excited about meeting Jesus that she left her bucket behind. “Come and see a man who told me everything I ever did!” the woman exclaimed. She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t ashamed. Somehow, the dark details of her life became a testimony to point others to the Messiah. “Come and see a man! Come and see!”
Was it possible?
If Mara could share her story of heartache and sin—if she could speak freely about the bitter water she had drunk and point others to the Living Water—was it possible that Jesus had work for her to do? Was it possible that Jesus called her to follow, not out of pity, but because he had a purpose and a mission for her?
Dawn was right. Mara hadn’t understood the truth about Jesus choosing her. She had seen herself as the leftover one God had to take just because she was standing there. But what if Jesus chose her because he actually loved her and wanted her to be with him? What if Jesus chose her, not because he felt sorry for her, but because her life was precious to him? What if she was actually worth something to God?
Mara couldn’t yet comprehend the difference that would make, but she sensed a seismic shift in her spirit. And her heart was trembling with joy.
Sacred Journey, New Hope Retreat Center
Session Three: Praying the Examen
Katherine Rhodes, Facilitator
_______________________________________________
The prayer of examen was developed by Ignatius of Loyola in the sixteenth century as a discipline for discerning God’s will and becoming more attentive to God’s presence. The following is an adaptation of his spiritual exercise.
Think of the prayer of examen as a way of sitting with Jesus and talking through the details of your day. In the examen we slow down and pay attention to the data of our lives. We notice our thoughts, actions, emotions and motivations. By taking time to review our day in prayer, we have the opportunity to see details we might otherwise overlook. The examen helps us to perceive the movement of the Spirit and to discover God’s presence in all of life.
As you begin to pray, still and quiet yourself. Give thanks for some of the specific gifts God has given you today. Then ask the Holy Spirit to guide and direct your thoughts as you prayerfully review your day. Let the details play out like a short movie. Pay attention both to the things that gave you life and to the things that drained you.
Notice where the Spirit invites you to linger and ponder.
These are some questions you can adapt and use in the examen:
When were you aware of God’s presence today? When did you sense God’s absence?
When did you respond to God with love, faith, and obedience? When did you resist or avoid God?
When did you feel most alive and energized? When did you feel drained, troubled, or agitated?
Having reviewed the details of your day, confess what needs to be confessed. Allow God’s Spirit to bring you wholeness, grace and forgiveness.
Finally, consider these questions: How will you live attentively in God’s love tomorrow? How can you structure your day in light of God’s presence, taking into account your own rhythms and responses to the movement of the Spirit? Ask for the grace to recognize the ways God makes his love known to you.
7
Walking Attentively
Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my thoughts. See if there is any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.
Psalm 139:23-24
The Examen
“I still can’t believe what a small world it is!” Charissa remarked to Hannah as she unpacked her laptop at the back corner table. “Funny how you and Dr. Allen were in seminary together. What a coincidence!”
“It sure is.” Hannah was deliberately cheerful as she discerned how best to exert control. “Of course, it’s been so long. I’m sure he wouldn’t remember me after all these years. I wouldn’t want him to feel embarrassed at not recognizing my name.”
Charissa raised her eyebrows. “You don’t want me to mention that I know you?”
Hannah proceeded carefully with manufactured indifference. “I wouldn’t bother. I just hadn’t heard his name for so long. It’s always interesting to hear where life takes people.” She shifted gears as smoothly as she could. “You know, I really enjoyed dinner last night. Thank you again!”
“You’re welcome. We had a good time too.”
While Katherine called the group together, Meg and Mara settled themselves at the table with their cups of coffee. Mara offered a blueberry bagel to Hannah. “Want half?” Hannah shook her head.
“I want to give you some time to leave your distractions behind so you can be fully present to God,” Katherine said. “So go ahead and make yourselves comfortable where you’re sitting, and I’ll lead us through a palms-up, palms-down prayer. Have some of you done this before?”
There were murmurs around the room.
“It’s a simple way of praying,” Katherine continued, “but I find the physical gestures help me focus on letting go and receiving. Think of the things that are worrying, troubling, and distracting you, and place your palms down as you turn those cares over to God. Then when you’re ready, turn your palms face up to receive what God has for you. Feel free to release and receive as many times as you need to. Let’s pray together.”
The room was silent. Charissa followed Katherine’s instructions, dutifully placing her palms down on her lap as she tried to think of things she needed to turn over to God. The very act of praying with her palms down was uncomfortable. More than uncomfortable. It was provoking. At first she was ready to dismiss her discomfort as something physical. Probably just a wrist thing, she thought to herself. Maybe she just didn’t like turning her hands up and down. But then Dr. Allen’s voice chimed in her head, “Pay attention to the things that provoke you.”
So she paid attention. Why was she reluctant to pray that way? Was there something deeper behind her resistance? Then it occurred to her. It wasn’t the physical action itself. Rather, it was what the action represented. Charissa was uncomfortable letting go. She smiled in spite of herself. Guess letting go takes practice, huh?
So she confessed her desire for control. She confessed her fears about letting go. She confessed her lack of trust.
Her confessions rapidly gathered momentum.
She confessed her pride and her self-centeredness. She confessed her critical spirit and her stubbornness.
Now that she was acutely aware of her sins, she wanted to be done with them. She wanted to be free. She wanted to be—
She sighed as the revelation hit her.
She wanted to be perfect.
She was right back at the beginning of the battle again, face to face with her perfectionist stronghold. Would it always be like this?
Help, God, she breathed, turning her palms face up. But she soon discovered she was just as uncomfortable with receiving as with releasing. She half-opened her eyes to scan the room, wondering if she was the only person struggling with such a simple act of prayer. But she was surrounded by saints. No one else appeared to be having any trouble with the exercise. So she closed her eyes and turned her palms up and down in prayerful gestures, just in case anyone was watching.
Hannah was relieved when Katherine rang the chime to signal the end of prayer. Though her watch insisted the silence had only lasted ten minutes, it had felt longer than that. Much longer. What was wrong with her? She ought to treasure and savor silence as a way to listen for God’s voice. Instead, silence scared her.
Especially now that Nathan Allen had resurfaced after so many years of absence.
Every time Hannah put her palms up to receive, Nathan intruded again. So she would go back to palms down, asking God to remove the distractions and take away the memories of him.
Why now, God? Why now? Why, when she was already feeling vulnerable and weak? Why, when this season of grief was already so painful? Why did she have to be distracted by something from her past?
Why, God, why?
What a cruel twist of fate. But then, she didn’t believe in fate. So was she prepared to say that Nathan Allen’s proximity was somehow part of God’s plan? Or maybe a design to test her again after all these years? Or merely a coincidence?
Hannah didn’t know. All she knew was that the thought of him was an unwelcome intrusion, and she didn’t know how to make it—him—go away.
And now—of all the disciplines Katherine could have presented, why the prayer of examen? And why today? As she sat staring at the handout and listening to Katherine explain the prayer, she became more and more restless. She didn’t want to review the last twenty-four hours in attentive prayer. She wanted to forget about them and move on. Just when she was beginning to feel grateful for the sabbatical—just when she was beginning to glimpse some of the work God wanted to do within her during her forced rest—Nathan Allen had reappeared. It wasn’t fair.
“I first started using the prayer of examen about twenty years ago,” Katherine was saying, “and it has been one of my most important daily disciplines. The examen helps me slow down and see the opportunities for transformation that God is constantly giving me. Remember: the spiritual life is all about being awake and attentive to God, and the examen helps us stay alert. God speaks through the things that stir us. God speaks through the things that excite and energize us as well as the things that depress and deplete us. So pay attention to your strong reactions and feelings, both positive and negative. The Spirit speaks through both.
“Imagine, for example, that as I review my day, I remember how irritated and defensive I became when someone criticized me. I pay attention to that, asking the Lord what he wants me to see and know about my response. How was God present to me right then? What are God’s invitations to me? As I pray it through I may discover that what the person said was true, and now I can explore what I’m protecting by being so defensive. Are you with me?”
There were murmurs and nods around the room.
“In the examen we ask the Spirit to search us and know us. The Lord invites us to perceive his constant activity in our lives, to notice the things that move us toward God and away from God. This kind of praying takes us deeply inward—not so we become self-absorbed and self-centered, but so that we can truly know ourselves. After all, self-knowledge and humility are pathways to knowing and loving God more and more. And the Holy Sp
irit’s desire is always to draw us more deeply into intimate life with God. Now . . . what questions do you have?”
Hannah didn’t bother listening to the questions or the answers. She didn’t want to pray about why she felt so agitated. She also knew exactly what Katherine would say about her reluctance. “Your areas of resistance and avoidance can provide a wealth of information about your inner life. Pay attention to what the Holy Spirit might be revealing to you.”
Why did it matter? Why did his name, spoken aloud for the first time in sixteen years, have the power to unsettle her? It was ridiculous. She ought to be stronger than that. She had gotten over him years ago. No—she had never needed to “get over him.” She had never loved him—not really. At least, not like he had loved her.
See? This was exactly why she had said no to him years ago. Hannah hated distractions, and he was a distraction from her single-minded pursuit of Jesus. He was a distraction from her call to ministry. He was a distraction.
Now here he was again, a distraction from the work of healing and pruning that God was doing in her life. All the forward progress she had managed to make had been wiped away with the mention of his name. She felt disappointed that she could be so easily derailed.
Hannah tried to shift her attention to moments when she felt energized. What could she actually celebrate from the last twenty-four hours? Meg came to mind. Hannah was certainly grateful for the work the Spirit was doing in Meg’s life to free her from fear, even if that meant that Meg was bolder in asking penetrating questions. Hannah thought about Meg’s years of repressed grief over Jim. Meg had confided that she had only recently started feeling free to remember him again. Imagine stuffing grief like that for so long, Hannah thought.
Then Charissa came to mind. Charissa hadn’t given specifics, but she had mentioned at dinner that the Spirit was revealing truth to her. Hannah could rejoice that Charissa was growing in her knowledge of God. But then she remembered what an important role Nathan had played in Charissa’s spiritual growth, and she was back to being distracted again.
A Story about the Spiritual Journey Page 20