Hope in Listening to the Spirit - Hope is Still Here

This series invites us to reflect on how we have found hope by listening to the Holy Spirit and cultivating a discerning heart. I’d like to share how this grace has been present in my own life—not in dramatic decisions, but in learning to be still, to listen deeply, and to respond with quiet love.

As a Spanish middle school teacher, I rely on a few call-and-response techniques to get my students’ attention. One of them is, “Uno, dos, tres, ojos a mí,” and they reply, “Uno, dos, tres, ojos a usted.” Then—silence. Thirty-six students coming to complete stillness is no small feat, but it happens when expectations are clear and a shared rhythm is in place.

How I wish things were that simple outside the classroom. That I could speak a phrase, and the chaos would settle. That pain would pause. That the noise—both external and internal—would fall away, and we could simply be still and listen.

Over the past several months, I’ve witnessed a great deal of pain in my community and beyond—from the devastation of the Eaton fires to the ongoing immigration challenges in our city, to the heartbreaking floods in Texas that claimed so many lives. There has been so much suffering. So many losses. It has been challenging to process. Like many others, I’ve wanted to respond, to give, to act, to fix, to make things better somehow. But often, I’ve found myself sitting with a quiet ache, wondering if anything I do would truly be enough.

A few weeks ago, during a women’s silent retreat, something within me came to the surface. I realized that I had been carrying a heavy grief—not just for the large-scale tragedies, but for my city, my neighbors, and the weight of unspoken fear and sorrow that so many are living with each day. In the silence of that retreat, I began to pay attention—not just with my ears, but with my heart.

I started listening more closely to the voices around me—my parents, friends, parishioners, my pastor, coworkers. They weren’t all speaking about the same events, but they were all sharing from a place of vulnerability. I simply listened. I didn’t try to solve or advise; I just received their words. Then, I carried those conversations into prayer.

“God, help me see with your eyes,” I prayed. “Help me to notice what you notice.”

What I began to sense wasn’t a call to dramatic action, but rather an invitation to presence. The Spirit was leading me not into movement, but into stillness—not into “fixing,” but into being. The grace I’ve received through this process of listening and discernment is clarity: not about what I should do, but who I am called to be in this moment.

There are no major decisions I need to make at this time. But the grace is no less real. I am being called to stay still and be a witness—to hold those who need holding, to listen when words fail, to be a small, steady light in the places where darkness tries to settle in.

St. Ignatius invites us to “find God in all things.” Lately, I’ve been finding God not in the solutions, but in the space between the pain and the healing, in the sacred pauses between stories, in the deep breath before a prayer, in the companionship of simply showing up and being present.

Discernment, I am learning, is not always about choosing between two paths. Sometimes, it’s about learning to remain rooted when everything around us is shifting. And in that rootedness—in prayer, in silence, in community—we begin to hear the whisper of the Spirit, gently reminding us: Hope is still here. I am still with you. Keep listening.

Going Deeper:

• Explore praying with this familiar prayer, Fall In Love -Prayer, noticing what rises within you: Who, What, How is God calling you to love?

• If you find yourself stuck, overwhelmed with the burden of grief or sorrow, consider the guidance found here in Listening to God … by Becky Eldredge.

• Read more about finding God in silence with Attuning to God in Silence by Tim Muldoon.

• Learn more about discernment with this podcast Discerning Hearts with Timothy Gallagher, OMV

• Read more about discernment with Timothy Gallagher, OMV – The Discernment of Spirits: An Ignatian Guide for Everyday Living.

Photo by Richard Stachmann on Unsplash

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Liz Aceves

Liz Aceves is a retreat facilitator and spiritual companion whose ministry centers on creating spaces for people to encounter God through prayer, reflection, and community. As Community Coordinator for Ignatian Ministries, Liz helps lead and organize virtual prayer groups, spiritual book clubs, and retreat offerings that support individuals in deepening their relationship with God. She also serves on Ignatian Ministries apostolic board committee.

She has co-facilitated Advent and Lent retreats, both virtually and in person, and she finds great joy in accompanying others on their spiritual journeys through the prayer practices of Ignatian Spirituality. Liz’s own spiritual life has been shaped by the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, which continue to ground her in ministry and prayer.

She is currently pursuing a Master’s in Pastoral Studies through the Loyola Institute for Ministry at Loyola University New Orleans, further deepening her formation and commitment to lay ministry as a Catholic school educator with a decade of experience teaching Spanish. Her love for working with children and teaching them about their faith and language has been a constant source of inspiration. Liz believes that learning a second language is essential in fostering acceptance and understanding among people of different cultures. Liz lives in Los Angeles with her husband and two sons and enjoys reading, hiking, and traveling.