When my wife and I decided to start praying together, we knew we needed something that fit our life and reality—six kids, full-time jobs, and “free time” that is counted in minutes, not hours. I had faithfully practiced the Examen before and knew that it was the perfect fit for us—quick (10-15 minutes) but highly practical, rooted in gratitude and God’s daily and intimate presence.
The Examen is an old prayer, commonly associated with St. Ignatius of Loyola, the founder of the Jesuits. Ignatius believed this simple prayer was so important that he would dismiss his novices from all other duties and obligations except their nightly Examen.
Part of the power of the Examen is that it slowly attunes you to God’s presence in your daily life, especially in the details. If you’ve ever experienced suddenly seeing the exact make, model, and color of the car you just bought at every traffic light and gas station, you can expect the same with this prayer—start looking for God and asking Him to show Himself, and suddenly you begin to see His grace everywhere; in the cup of coffee you got to enjoy uninterrupted, in a soft summer rain, in the noise of a car full of kids on the way to softball practice. This is no trick—God assures us in Scripture that, despite having crafted the universe, He is very much interested and involved in the seemingly humdrum and often monotonous ongoings of our human lives. Plus, if there’s one type of prayer I know for certain that our Father answers, it is when His children ask to see Him more often.
The core of the Examen is gratitude; Ignatius believed gratitude was a natural response to God’s love, mercy, and daily sustaining grace. It’s Mary’s Magnificat, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my savior, for the Almighty has done great things for me . . .” in action. The more you practice the Examen, the more you come to see that, while God surely works in mysterious ways, He also works down here with us amidst the dirty laundry and bills to pay and commitments to keep. The more you see Him laboring and sustaining you, the more gratitude builds, eventually becoming your natural state of mind and spirit.
Kevin O’Brien, in The Ignatian Adventure, offers a version of the Examen that has become a standard for many modern Jesuits and laypeople alike. These are his five steps:
- Pray for Light: Ask God to help you see your day with clarity, through His eyes, not just your own.
- Give Thanks: Review your day and name the gifts and blessings you received. Nothing is too small.
- Review the Day: Look honestly at your actions, words, and thoughts. When were you drawn closer to God? When did you move away?
- Face Your Shortcomings: With humility and courage, acknowledge where you fell short. Ask for healing.
- Look Ahead: Ask God for the graces you need tomorrow—whether strength, peace, courage, or wisdom.
My nightly Examen begins with asking God for His light and help, and typically looks like this:
“God, come to our assistance, O Lord make haste to help us. Come Holy Spirit, fill our hearts and enkindle in us the fire of your love. Lord, give me light to see my day; show me what you want me to see; the times I worked with your grace, and the times I did not. Give me a spirit of gratitude for all.”
Next, I accompany God to the beginning of my day. Occasionally, God immediately puts something from my day right in front of me—and it is important to be docile to these promptings of the Holy Spirit and not turn the Examen into a mechanical listing or filing of your day. We are rooting around with God, dusting for the fingerprints He leaves all over our daily lives, and that is sacred work.
I gently and slowly move through my day, playing it over like a movie. I keep my ear and heart out for the places God wants me to stop; many times He’s offering an opportunity to rest in a specific moment of grace, to “savor” it, as Ignatius calls it.
I pay close attention to the “big feelings” I had throughout the day and invite God into them. I ask for clarity or wisdom when my feelings were difficult or uncharitable, and I offer gratitude for feelings of hope or joy. God also shows me where I missed Him, or where I neglected to live out the Gospel—maybe I was impatient and moved to anger with my wife or one of the kids, maybe I felt slighted by a colleague at work. I ask for forgiveness and His help to do better, then I move on.
When God finishes showing me the significant moments and feelings of the day, I review them and look for clear opportunities in which I needed grace, and these shape my request for the following day: “I was impatient with my son today; Lord, give me patience and wisdom to love him well tomorrow,” “I was upset that my experience wasn’t acknowledged in my work meeting; increase the virtue of Humility and free me from the desire to be acknowledged.” As you make the Examen a habit, you will see these graces manifesting throughout your day, and God’s intimate and personal care for you becomes more of a reality and less of a theological hypothesis.
In the Ignatian tradition, I close the prayer with an Our Father, and sometimes I add a Glory Be and/or Hail Mary. Then my wife and I take turns discussing our prayer together, which is a grace we are grateful for in itself because it gives us time to share our day, our burdens and joys and struggles, but with God at the center of them.
Practicing the Examen together has deepened our relationship with God and each other. It helps us see each day as both a gift and an opportunity, even among moments, interactions, and feelings that seem insignificant. The Examen reminds us that God loves and cares for us, that He offers us grace for every moment of every day, and that, while He is sustaining the sun and holding up the mountains and being worshipped and adored on His throne, He is beside us in the boiler room, at the dinner table, during bath time, watching over our going out and coming in, now and forever.
St. Ignatius of Loyola, pray for us, that we may always see God in the details and, thereby, know His personal love and care for us.
Photo by Junior REIS on Unsplash
