Monthly Examen: A Prayerful Pause
Each month, I am going to invite a time to pause, reflect, and pay attention to the presence of God in our lives, to our emotions, and to the movement of grace in ordinary moments. The five steps of St. Ignatius’s Examen offer a gentle framework for this kind of reflection:
Become aware of God’s presence.
Review the day with gratitude.
Pay attention to your emotions.
Choose one feature of the day and pray from it.
Look toward tomorrow.
Let’s take a few quiet minutes together and look back over the past month.
When did you feel closest to God?
Was it in the middle of joy or celebration? Or perhaps in a moment of grief or struggle? Maybe it came through Scripture, through creativity, through time in nature, or in the quiet of an ordinary afternoon. There’s no wrong answer. Simply pause and notice.
When did you feel most like your true self?
Was there a moment when something deep inside whispered, This is what I was made for? Try to remember that feeling: what you were doing, who you were with, how it felt in your body.
Were there moments when God felt distant?
When you longed for Him but couldn’t sense His nearness? Hold those moments gently. Bring them to God now. Ask Him what He wants you to know about His presence, even when it feels hidden.
What are you grateful for from this past month?
Is there a particular day, moment, or even a small detail that fills you with warmth or thankfulness? Offer that gratitude back to God.
Where do you need help right now?
Is there an ongoing struggle or quiet ache you’re carrying? Invite God into that place of need. You don’t have to have the right words, just be honest.
What are your hopes for the month ahead?
Tell God what you’re longing for, dreaming of, or simply what you need. Even though He already knows, there is something powerful about naming those hopes in prayer.
How Spiritual Direction is Different than Counseling
I often get asked how spiritual direction is different from counseling—especially Christian counseling. It’s a great question, and one that deserves a thoughtful answer, because while both can be deeply supportive, they serve different purposes.
Here are five ways spiritual direction stands apart:
1. There’s no advice.
It might feel surprising at first, especially if you're used to counseling or mentoring, but spiritual direction isn’t about receiving guidance on what to do. You might hear familiar questions, like “How does that make you feel?”, but they serve a different purpose. My role isn’t to help you solve a problem; it’s to help you notice God’s presence in your life and listen more deeply.
2. Everything comes back to your relationship with God.
You can bring anything to spiritual direction: work, relationships, loss, joy, doubt. But no matter what we talk about, the lens is always your relationship with God. The real question is: Where is God in this? or What might God be inviting you into?
3. There’s a lot of silence.
In counseling, silence might feel awkward, something to be filled. In spiritual direction, silence is sacred. It’s in the stillness that we often hear God’s whisper. We make room for the Holy Spirit to speak, not just to talk about God, but to actually listen to God together.
4. It is restful.
Spiritual direction isn’t another task or therapy appointment. It’s an invitation to rest. After a busy or emotionally charged day, it can feel like stepping into a quiet sanctuary. There’s nothing you have to perform or fix. You can just breathe.
5. You leave lighter.
You might come in carrying burdens (confusion, grief, longing) but most people leave feeling lighter. Not because everything is “fixed,” but because they’ve remembered what’s true: that they are seen, loved, and accompanied by God. That reassurance is powerful.
6. The director is not the expert—you are.
In counseling, the therapist often brings clinical expertise. In spiritual direction, we trust that you already know God and are learning to recognize God's voice. The director is simply a companion, helping you notice and name what is already true in your experience.
7. It’s about presence, not performance.
You don’t need to come with a goal, a question, or a tidy narrative. There’s no expectation to “make progress.” Just bring your honest self, tired, joyful, angry, numb, hopeful, and we’ll sit with whatever is there.
8. It’s slow on purpose.
Spiritual direction doesn’t rush. In a world that prizes productivity and answers, direction invites you to slow down and linger. Some sessions might feel like “nothing happened” but in time, those slow moments often turn out to be sacred ground.
9. It’s rooted in trust in the Spirit’s work.
There’s a shared belief that the Holy Spirit is the real director in the room. We’re both listening together, not just to what’s said, but to what’s stirred. The emphasis isn’t on technique or outcome, but on discernment and presence.
10. It's often seasonal or cyclical.
While counseling may be ongoing or tied to specific goals, spiritual direction often ebbs and flows. People sometimes enter direction during a time of discernment, grief, transition, or spiritual dryness—and continue because it becomes a place of grounding through all seasons.
In short, spiritual direction isn’t about fixing or figuring things out. It’s about noticing. Noticing where God is moving. Noticing how you’re responding. Noticing how deeply you are loved.
If you’ve never experienced spiritual direction and are curious, I’d love to talk more. It’s one of the most gentle, life-giving practices I know, and it’s always a gift to hold that sacred space with someone.
Practicing the Presence | Prompt 1: Sunlight Through Leaves
“Photograph sunlight filtering through leaves.”
There is something quietly holy about the way light moves through the world.
Not just the sunrise or sunset kind of light—but the soft, ordinary light that dapples through trees on your morning walk, glints off the kitchen counter, or spills across the carpet when no one is watching.
This light doesn’t demand attention.
It just arrives.
And when we notice it—when we stop for a moment, breathe, and look up, we’re reminded:
God is here, too.
What is “Practicing the Presence”?
It’s an old phrase, most often associated with Brother Lawrence, a 17th-century monk who found God not only in prayer but in washing dishes.
It means learning to be with God in the everyday: in the chopping of vegetables, the tying of shoes, the folding of laundry. In birdsong. In traffic. In sunlight through leaves.
It’s not about doing more, but about noticing more.
About looking again.
Try This
At some point today, pause and look for the light, not just where it is obvious, but where it’s slipping in quietly.
Take a photo if you like. Not to perform or impress, but to practice presence. To hold the moment. To remember.
Ask yourself:
What does this light reveal?
What is God like in this moment?
What happens in me when I pause to notice?
If you’d like to share what you find, tag your photo with #PracticingPresence or leave a comment below. I’d love to see through your eyes.