Where Quiet Prayer Meets Purposeful Leadership

On Praying Slowly (A Reflection on Isaiah 55: 10-11 and Matthew 6: 7-15) Just recently, a young person messaged me. This person told me, “Father, I used to say I was agnostic during our retreat.” Not exactly someone you would expect to be moved in prayer. He shared with me on Messenger,

“i had the sudden urge to go to visit the church alone. it was really random because i never got that feeling before as it never crossed my mind. i didn’t feel anything unusual but suddenly, i started to cry. i didn’t stop myself from crying because it felt wrong, i was alone with the Lord and i believe that that was a great time to finally let go of that tight feeling inside my chest.”

On the outside, nothing spectacular. But beneath the surface, God was already at work.

And that is exactly what Isaiah (Isaiah 55: 10-11) is telling us today. God’s Word is never wasted. Sometimes the change is quiet …. Sometimes it is hidden …. But God is always, always working in the heart that remains open to Him.

And how do we stay open to that quiet work of God? We stay connected to Him through prayer.

Even St. John Mary Vianney noticed this in everyday life. He was curious about a simple farmer who came to his parish every single day. He wondered how this humble man, with so little formal education, addressed God the Father. And the farmer simply said, “I would look at Jesus, and He will just look at me.”

It’s a beautiful reminder that prayer isn’t about how much we say, but about staying present to God and letting Him be present to us.

Prayer is our living relationship with the Lord. The way we listen, the way we speak, the way we remain close to the One who is already at work within us. That is why, in the Gospel (Matthew 6: 7-15), Jesus lovingly teaches His disciples how to pray.

No, not with empty repetition, not to impress others. But with trustful simplicity.

“Your Father already knows what you need.”

That line alone should change the way we pray. We don’t have to perform for God. We don’t have to find fancy words. Prayer during Lent stands alongside sacrifice and charity as one of the three pillars of this season — but it must be real prayer, prayer from the heart.

And notice something beautiful in the Lord’s Prayer. Jesus teaches us to say “Our Father,” not just “My Father.” And in the final petitions we pray, “give us… forgive us… lead us not… deliver us.”

Lent is never meant to be a solo journey. God loves it when we are united in prayer, when we pray together and for one another as a family of faith.

One very practical Lenten suggestion comes from St. Thérèse of Lisieux. In her autobiography, she admits that sometimes she experienced deep spiritual dryness, moments when not even a single good thought came to her in prayer.

And what did she do? She said the Our Father or the Hail Mary slowly, and she found that these simple prayers refreshed her soul.

That’s a good question for us today: how often do we pray these prayers… and how often do we rush through them on autopilot?

Maybe one concrete Lenten practice is simply this: pray the Our Father slowly … Savor it. Mean it. As in, really mean it.

I heard someone say that the most beautiful name in the world is your own name. In the Our Father, Jesus has taught us the most beautiful name our lips could ever utter: the name of God Himself. He gave us a way to call Him: Abba, Father … Ama.

How sweet it must be for God to hear His name spoken by us, intentionally … with care … with much love. When we say it slowly … when we really mean it … our prayer becomes more than words. It becomes a heart reaching out to the One who is already reaching out to us.

 

About the writer: Fr. Donnie Duchin Duya, SDB serves as the Editor-in-Chief of Don Bosco Press, Inc. He preaches retreats and recollections and is a spiritual director to religious and lay people.

 

Editorial Note

In this reflection on prayer, Fr. Donnie shared the story of a young person who once identified as agnostic but suddenly felt the urge to enter a church alone. Nothing extraordinary appeared to happen outwardly, yet in that quiet moment he found himself moved to tears. As Isaiah reminds us (Isaiah 55:10–11), God’s word never returns empty. Often, the most meaningful transformations happen quietly, beneath the surface, in hearts that remain open. In many ways, this reminds us that growth, whether spiritual or personal, often unfolds slowly, through patience and openness.

The same quiet yet powerful work can be seen in the spirit of service within JCI Manila. Under Pres. Eds’ leadership, JCI Manila has continued to nurture that spirit of patient, purposeful work. Initiatives are launched, partnerships are forged, and young leaders are formed through the steady, faithful commitment of members.

The seeds planted through our programs, partnerships, and shared efforts may sometimes grow unseen, but like God’s word, they carry the promise of transformation for the communities we serve.