“Have you talked to Jesus?”

“Yes, I have. I do that every day. If not for an hour, I will pray for 30 minutes.”

During a recent 8-day Ignatian silent retreat that I attended at Xavier House in Cheung Chau, Hong Kong, this was the very question my spiritual director (SD) asked me from Day 1 of the retreat: “Have you talked to Jesus?”

Each day included 3–4 prayer sessions (each an hour long) and a one-hour spiritual direction session, where retreatants were given space to share their prayer experiences of the day to their respective spiritual directors.

At that time, I was quite proud to respond “yes,” almost like a student confidently submitting her completed homework. In my ministry as a pastoral worker, daily prayer is non-negotiable. I constantly reminded myself that I’m doing God’s work, not my own. So, I must pray.

Yet, my SD kept asking me the same question — “Have you talked to Jesus?”—on Day 2, Day 3, Day 4…

Only on Day 4, after sharing my prayer experience with my SD, did I start to wonder: Why is she asking me this question every day? I had shown up. I had prayed. I had journaled and reflected. Each time I met up with her, I was sharing what I have experienced during my prayer time. Isn’t praying essentially talking to Jesus?

With this question and as I contemplated the reason behind the question, I remembered I have painted an image during prayer—a house I imagined living in with Jesus. I felt an invitation to beautify its façade, so I painted different plants with my limited artistic skills. When I shared this with my SD, she asked, “Is this what Jesus wants to do with you?” Then she added, “Did you ask Him?”

That question, now, struck a chord.

I realized I had made many decisions—both small and significant—during prayer. But have I truly asked Jesus? Or have I assumed that, because those decisions were made in prayer, they automatically aligned with God’s will?

On Day 5, still sitting with that realization, I took a different approach in prayer. I paused, and asked Jesus a simple, human question: “What would you like to eat?” And I felt Him responding, “I want hot beef noodles soup.”

I laughed to myself. That can’t be right, I thought. There was no noodle soup in Jesus’ time! Was this just my imagination?

Later, when my SD asked again, “Have you talked to Jesus?”—I hesitated, then said yes. I told her about Jesus asking for beef noodles soup. Her eyes lit up and she said, “That is it!”

She explained that it wasn’t about whether Jesus actually wanted beef noodles soup. It was about the fact that I had finally started to talk to Him—like a real person.

That moment gave me a new courage and deeper assurance. I began to explore what it means to truly converse with Jesus—not just say prayers or read scriptures out of duty. I hadn’t realized my prayer time had become more of a “reporting for duty” until my SD gently pointed it out.

Those five simple words— “Have you talked to Jesus?”—have since changed my prayer life. Now, my formal prayer times feel more connected and alive. Even outside of those scheduled moments, I’ve begun to feel the closeness of Jesus and Mother Mary—real people, living in real time with me.