Hello! We are Mother Mary’s Kids (MMK). We began in 2012 as a small Bible study group for our neighborhood children, and by God’s grace, we’ve grown into a ministry with Bible studies, choir, and sacrament preparation for kids and teens. We serve under Blok B Parish of the Jakarta Archdiocese, welcoming both Indonesian and international kids, mostly from non-denominational English-speaking national plus or international schools. Our journey with Ignatian spirituality started when our parish priest, Father Aluisius Pramudya Daniswara, S.J. (Father Pram), “forced” (his word, not ours!) us to try the practice of Spiritual Conversation during one of our annual retreats. At the time, we thought it would be just another program. Instead, it became the seed of a transformation for us as catechists and, later, for the children we accompany. As catechists, we set aside one day each year to retreat together. It is our time to recharge, to rest from lesson plans and crafts, and simply to be in community. Usually, the day is quiet, centered on listening to God’s Word through Father’s reflections. But that year, he invited us into something different: spiritual conversation, where we listened deeply, shared freely and safely, and let the Spirit guide what happened between us. At first, it felt unusual. Yet it worked. We left not only refreshed but also more connected. We shared our hopes and struggles, not only as fellow catechists but also as friends on the same mission. Since then, we have returned to the practice many times. In fact, during our most recent 12-week formation for new catechists, we concluded with a spiritual conversation, where each participant shared their surprises, fears, and hopes as they began their ministry. The fruit was unmistakable: a sense of fraternity, of meeting one another in authenticity beyond roles or functions. We began to see each other not merely as “fellow catechists” but as companions on the journey. Of course, once we told Father Pram about the fruits we experienced, he “forced” us again, this time into the practice of the Examen. As laypeople serving in a Jesuit parish, we thought we knew the Examen. For years, we had taught children to pray in three simple steps: one thing to thank God for, one thing to say sorry for, and one thing to hope for. We thought, “Check! We’ve got this!” But Father reminded us prayer is more than words; it is the lifting of heart and soul to God. He gently but firmly asked us not only to practice the Examen ourselves, daily and in writing, but also to bring it into our sessions with the kids. “Through this,” he insisted, “you and the children will come to know yourselves more deeply.” Honestly, we dragged our feet. With lesson plans, jobs, and sacrament prep on our plates, this felt like one more thing. But in true Jesuit spirit, we obeyed. We began with our Confirmation candidates, asking them to pray the Examen nightly and write it out in a journal. At first, we didn’t comment much; we simply checked that it was done. After three weeks, we scheduled one-on-one pastoral conversations with each candidate. We weren’t sure what to expect, but what unfolded left us stunned. I will never forget one boy in particular, a 13-year-old who had faithfully written his examen every night. His notebook was thick with reflections. I asked him to look at it like a detective: “What patterns do you see? What do you usually thank God for, what do you say sorry for, and what do you ask help with?” He flipped through the pages, then looked up and admitted quietly, “I tend to swear a lot.” He pointed to several entries where he had written it down. I asked gently, “Why do you think you do that? Is swearing really the best way to express yourself?” He thought for a long while before answering, “Because that’s what my friends do. It feels normal around them. But deep down I know it’s not right.” We sat in silence. Then I asked, “If you could give advice to yourself, what would it be?” He paused, longer this time, and finally said words that struck me to the core: “Don’t do what’s normal!” In that moment, the Spirit broke through: clear, simple, and powerful. Through the Examen, this boy had discovered not only a personal weakness but also the courage to resist conformity. It was discernment in action, born not from a lecture but from his own prayer. I was so moved I nearly wept. Other conversations were just as moving. A 14-year-old boy confessed that he felt stuck in routines, empty, and distant from God. A teenage girl shared how the Examen had helped her notice and rejoice in the small, ordinary blessings of her day. Another spoke candidly about the frustration of endless pressure to excel in school. And one brave girl, with tears in her eyes, asked the question weighing on her heart: “Is my late grandma saved?” There were smiles, laughter, and yes, tears. We had never seen such honesty in past programs. We were unprepared for the emotions that surfaced, but it was a holy kind of overwhelm. After 13 years of serving MMK, we have come to understand more deeply that being a catechist means not only teaching doctrine but also accompanying as a friend and companion on the journey. That is the true gift of Spiritual Conversation and the Examen. That very night, we called Father Pram to share our joy and amazement. We are no experts in Ignatian spirituality, but we are witnesses to its fruits. And if you are a catechist reading this, we want to encourage you: let yourself be “forced” into these practices too. Try Spiritual Conversation. Practice the Examen. Even when it feels awkward, even when it feels like extra work. Because the Spirit works in those moments. And sometimes, the most profound wisdom comes
