Sally Ho
Between the departure of my third counsellor and my first Ignatian retreat in 2021, I found myself struggling alone. The pain I carried inside felt like too much to handle, but I didn’t give up. I turned to books and podcasts, hoping to find comfort and understanding. I tried everything I could—yet nothing gave me peace. I often cried out to God in frustration, “What is it that you want from me?”
In my search, I held onto one belief: if I could be quiet and still enough, I might hear God’s voice. After all, God lives within us—this is the gift of the Eucharist. We are temples of the Holy Spirit. But when I tried different meditation practices, I noticed that many replaced God with vague words like “universe” or “energy.” That didn’t sit right with me. From then on, I focused only on Catholic prayer and contemplation.
In April 2021, I attended a prayer workshop at Xavier House, Cheung Chau. Only when I arrived did I realise it was a silent retreat. I thought, “How will I survive this?” I had no idea that these four days would become a turning point in my life—a true encounter with Jesus in prayer. It was also where I discovered the deep peace of silence, and from that moment, I never doubted God’s presence again.
Each day of the retreat, we learned a different form of prayer and met with a spiritual director. On the first day, we prayed with Isaiah 43:1–5. I couldn’t believe the words: “You are precious in my eyes,” “I love you,” “Do not fear.” They felt like lies. I thought, “If I was truly precious to God, why did he allow this to happen? Why did my brother die instead of me?”
…when I tried different meditation practices, I noticed that many replaced God with vague words like ‘universe’ or ‘energy.’ That didn’t sit right with me
Though I didn’t fully understand what spiritual direction was, I trusted that God was working through it. For the first time in 10 years, I shared the full story of my brother’s death. It was also the first time I allowed myself to feel real anger over what had happened.
During prayer, I had a vision: Jesus stood before me wearing boxing gloves, letting me hit him as I let out my pain. He didn’t move. He simply stayed, patiently waiting for me to finish.
That night, I went to Adoration for the first time. I asked Jesus to walk with me into the memory I had avoided for so long—finding my brother on his bed. In that still moment, I heard Jesus ask, “How long do you want to stay here?” I answered through tears, “I want to get out, but I don’t know how.” Then came a voice: “Become a nun.” I was afraid and ignored it.
The next morning, Jesus asked again. This time, I replied, “I don’t know how, but I’ll try if you help me.”
During the retreat, God used nature to speak to me. The sunrise reminded me of the order: darkness, light, then colour. I felt that I was finally in the “light” phase, with colour soon to come. A flower—a noble dendrobium—caught my attention. I asked the gardener about it and learned that its stem is used in Chinese medicine for healing. It clings to a tree to grow. God was telling me: “As this flower draws strength from the tree, you too will draw strength from me, and through me, you will help others heal.”
During prayer, I had a vision: Jesus stood before me wearing boxing gloves, letting me hit him as I let out my pain. He didn’t move. He simply stayed, patiently waiting for me to finish
When the retreat ended, something felt unfinished. I had left a bag at a restaurant, so I returned to Cheung Chau the next day. I felt called to sit at the beach. I asked Jesus, “What do You want to tell me?” Then I heard these words: “There was nothing you could have done. Protecting him was never your job.”
I broke down in tears. These words released a burden I didn’t know I was carrying. I had blamed myself for so long.
After that retreat, I felt truly healed—lighter than ever before. No other method I had tried in the past decade had brought such deep peace. I knew only God could heal this quickly and completely. My spiritual director advised me to continue praying, but I thought the healing was done.
As time passed, I realised I needed to understand what had really happened during the retreat. It was hard to explain the transformation, but it was real. I began to pray more, go to Confession more often, and read Scripture with new eyes. God had truly renewed me from the inside out.
This concludes my Easter reflection series. Of course, the journey continues. I have much more to share about what it means to be fully redeemed by Jesus.
I invite you to pray with me: Heavenly Father, thank You for saving me when I thought I had to carry my trauma alone. Thank You for renewing my heart and mind, for helping me see that I am precious in Your eyes. Thank You for giving me the grace to be a witness of Your healing love and a source of hope for others. Amen.
Happy Easter, dear friends.
Thank you for letting me share my journey with you.
