Retreat — December 2009, cont'd.

In the introductory meeting with my retreat director, Sister Barbara, she suggested that I and the others she was directing should try, during the retreat, to be in the presence of the loving God. (Good advice for anytime.) The next morning, she suggested that I begin reading the Gospel of Mark as a way of becoming acquainted with Jesus — that I should pay careful attention to what he does, says, finds important, feels, notices — and that I should pray for the grace to know, love, and follow him.

By the end of the retreat, I had got as far as Mark 9:1. I noticed him praying, calling followers preaching, calling sinners, healing, protecting his followers, being down to earth, angry with those who refused to listen and opposed his message of God's love.

She also suggested some other passages, from Luke, for me to read and reflect on.

At one point I mentioned a particular person who I felt had undermined me at an important point in my life and who had recently died. Sr. Barbara suggested something she called a "wisdom dialogue," in which I say what bothered me and try to imagine how he would respond. It would be a dialogue aiming at some sort of mutual understanding. I think it is a strategy for what other people call "healing of memory." And I guess it worked, because the incident no longer bothers me as it used to, and I no longer feel as upset with him as I used to.

In prayer times, I occasionally tried to have similar conversations with Jesus. I'm not sure how accurate every word that I thought he would say is as an expression of his thinking. There were some good points, though. At one point the scary questions occurred to me, "Have I given my life to you, Lord, or have I been living for myself all along? Do I really want to be with you?"

There was a question also of feeling God's presence, versus realizing God's presence. I had been operating under the assumption that I was supposed to have some kind of special feeling, but I came to realize that God's presence is a reality regardless of emotion. This is important, because it tells me I can be truly praying even if I don't have some special feeling of God's nearness at that moment. I don't have to consider that I'm not praying.

All in all, I'd say that the retreat was worthwhile, that I got some good ideas about how to pray. Unfortunately, when I got back home, within a couple of days I was back into my old pattern of daily life, where I didn't set aside a block or blocks of time for the sort of Bible reading and prayer that I had been doing. Obviously, I had to be doing other things most of the day, but a half hour would do — only I didn't plan my days, and so I never (or rarely) made the time to do it. Avoidance is so easy.

Perhaps we can say it was a good foundation that I failed to build on.