Over time, prayer became more than words;
it became an embodied awareness of God's presence
woven through the ordinary rhythms and routines of daily life. 

One evening, I thought of my email address: dear.silviakwon.
It felt simple and almost incidental. Just a name.

The next day, during my 19th Annotation Ignatian retreat,
I prayed with the story of the woman Jesus healed on the Sabbath (Luke 13:10–17).
The words “Dear woman” rose before me, and something within me paused.

The email address I had casually created the night before now returned with presence and weight.
It was as though God had been quietly speaking long before I had learned how to notice.

As I read “Dear woman,”
I heard within me:

“Dear Silvia Kwon.”

Dear.
Beloved.
Held in regard.
Known with tenderness.

As I found myself within this Gospel story,
His quiet authority stood between me and every voice that had spoken otherwise over my life.
There was a deep interior stillness,
a settling into the truth that I belonged to Him.

And within that same journey, I heard another whisper:

“Silvia, come out.”

Like Lazarus standing at the edge of the tomb,
I began recognizing places within myself shaped by hiding, fear, and quiet containment.
Yet the voice calling me forward was tender and unafraid of what had been hidden.

Not as pressure or demand,
but as invitation into fuller life.
Into presence.
Into being seen.

Even now, I sense these invitations continuing,
not as a single cinematic moment,
but as an ongoing grace gently shaping my life over time.

These moments are only small glimpses within an ongoing journey
of living a life of embodied prayer,
trusting in an ever-present God
who speaks through the unfolding of daily life
and within the beauty, complexity, and mystery of every human story. 

Spiritual Director Certificate 2024 Sustainable Faith .

Spiritual Formation Certificate 2026 Pax Center .

East Coast Conference SD  ECC