One of my favorite forms of prayer is what St. Ignatius of Loyola called ‘imaginative prayer.’ This is when you sit down and read a story in scripture and by using your imagination you enter into the story either as a bystander or as one of the characters. In your imagination you engage all the senses: What do you see? What do you hear? What do you feel? etc. Usually, when I enter into this type of prayer, I end up with what I describe as a personal ending to the scripture story. There is always a dialogue with the Lord followed by a lesson, or some form of deep inner healing. During these prayer times, I write out what I am seeing in my journal as there are many times I have gone back to revisit the stories.
For instance, in 2018 on my discernment retreat prior to my First Promises, I had a powerful reflection time with Jesus and the Last Supper. In my mind, as I entered this scene, I snuck into the upper room, hid in the shadows, and watched as Jesus kneeled in front of each apostle and washed their feet. He later turns and walks over to me without the apostle’s knowledge of my being in the room. I initially resisted his request to wash my feet because I was not one of his apostles. He then explained to me how I am more like them than I think. He went on to explain to me how I am worthy, and in the end, washes my feet. The scene is so vivid in my imagination, that I can feel the water pouring over my feet. Since that time, every Holy Thursday, I pull out that journal and sit with the experience during prayer at the altar of repose. It is so powerful that I can still picture the scene clearly, and it moves me each time as I continue to feel the water on my feet.
(Note: Often this scripture signifies holy orders and the priesthood which was instituted at the Last Supper. We are in no way implying a contradiction of the teachings of our faith about the sacrament of holy orders or the priesthood, but simply sharing a prayer experience.)
This past June, I traveled to Italy during my vacation. When I returned to Canada, I attended an 8-day silent retreat. My initial hope for this retreat was to ponder on how God moved in my heart while I was on pilgrimage in Italy. Well, God had other plans for me. Instead, my retreat became a time of deep healing of wounds that had impacted my life since I was a little girl. It was a very unexpected turn of events sparked by a conversation I had in Italy. I was reluctant but open to following where the Lord wanted me to go.
During one of my prayer times, my Spiritual Director had me sit with the parable of the Prodigal Son in Luke 15:11-32. I have read this story many times, but I have never really entered the story myself. As I began praying, I imagined myself quietly walking behind the prodigal son. I was so quiet he was not aware of my presence. His focus was on the words he was to tell his father “I am no longer worthy to be called your son.” He kept repeating these words over and over again. It was then that I realized that as he was trying to memorize the words for his father, he was taking on this lie as part of his identity. As he repeated this phrase over and over, he was convincing himself further that he was not worthy to be called son. I can relate because I have done this many times when I entertain the lies of the enemy, especially when I doubt my being enough.
Back to the story, as we reached the prodigal’s home, I watched as the father ran to his son, and wrapped his arms around him with such joy and love. For a moment, the son tries to push the father away and blurts out the words he has been repeating for the longest while, “Father, I am no longer worthy to be called your son.” The Father embraces him again signaling to the servants at the same time. The son then pushes away again saying, “Dad, are you listening to me? Did you hear what I said?” The father looks at him lovingly, then glances over to me as if to say “Listen, this is for you too.” I am surprised that he sees me and I am grateful at the same time. He goes on to gently say:
“Yes, son, I heard you. Now listen to me. The past is in the past. What happened no longer matters. You did what you had to do. Yes, we can all wish that it did not happen, but wishing does not change the fact that it did happen. I forgave you the day you left, and have been praying and waiting with great anticipation for your return home. Now I need you to hear this, and keep repeating this in your heart for I speak the truth: You are my son – you always have been, you always will be. Nothing, and I mean nothing, will ever change that. Do you hear me? My love for you is going nowhere.”
The Father again looked at me to make sure I heard his words as well. With tears of love in my eyes, I nodded my head as if to say, “Yes, Father, I heard you.”
After he spoke to his son, giving him the sandals, the robe, and the ring, then sending him into the house to freshen up, he turned to me and gave me my veil, my ring, and a robe. I asked him how he knew I would be there and the words he spoke to my heart were as follows:
“I am always on the lookout for my daughter as well. What I said to him, I want you to hold onto as well. You are my daughter – you always have been and you always will be. Nothing will ever change that. My love for you is forever.”
It was in this time of prayer, that the Lord confirmed my identity which he spoke in prayer earlier in the retreat. It was after spending this time with the prodigal son, and time with his brother the next day (which could be a whole other blog🙂) that I was able to believe and declare the truth that I am his DAUGHTER, he loves me no matter what, and I am truly more than enough.
By the end of the retreat, I let go of the lies I was holding on to about my worthiness, my not belonging, and my need to be perfect to be loved by the Father, to name just a few. I wrote all of them out on a rock and then walked down to the lake next to the retreat centre. With my spiritual director as my witness, I threw it as far as I could, which wasn’t very far. The rock was rather heavy. I believe there is more healing to come, but I can claim the freedom that I have found. I was able to forgive myself and in the end, enter the party with the Father.
Being a visual person, imaginative prayer is a very helpful tool for me to use to grow closer to the Lord. I encourage you to try it at least once – ask the Lord which story he wants you to sit with, and as you read, place yourself there and let the Lord guide you. Perhaps the Prodigal Son in Luke 15 might be a good place to start. Pray with Your Imagination – IgnatianSpirituality.com
Related Posts
