By: Alex J. Nagem © March 20, 2025
In our busy lives, we search for a quiet spot to retreat to relax, listen, dream, and spend time with God. Some may go on a retreat to a remote location. Others may spend time in a church or shrine. I find my daily spot for a retreat on my front porch. The front porch is my sacred space, a tranquil haven where I can immerse myself in prayer, free from all distractions. I can communicate with God and listen for His response. I like this spot, though I enjoy sitting in church when no one else is around. I also like the refreshed feeling received from the retreat experience. But this porch, on the front of my old home, is the place I found that does not require travel time to provide me with my oasis of relaxation. The view from my porch looks out on the creations of God and man, a co-existence of both. “One’s attention was absorbed by the great arc of the sky, the trees, hills, grass, and all in them.” Thomas Merton, “When the Trees Say Nothing”. I spend an hour each evening for reflection, confession, and prayer here. With a minor adjustment of the eyes or head toward the sky, I can avoid the distractions created by man and enjoy the beauty of God’s creations.
“Look at your life and your part in the universe as infinitely rich, full of inexhaustible interest, opening out into infinite possibilities for study, contemplation, interest, and praise. Beyond all and in all is God. Perhaps the book of life, in the end, is the book of what one has lived. If one has lived nothing, he is not in the book of life. And I have always wanted to write about everything.” (More from) Thomas Merton, “When the Trees Say Nothing.”
From my porch, I can hear the buzzing of traffic on Interstate 70 and see structures built by man. These are reminders that man has changed the creation of God. We hoped the changes would improve our lives, but instead, they seem to have added more worries and stress. We are in a hurry to go someplace, take our journey, escape, and make a living. We need time each day for reflection, prayer, or breathing. Many of us come home from our jobs, prepare and eat dinner, sit in front of the television, and wonder why stress has not left our lives. My daily reflection comes on my porch. I am surprised by the number of homes that no longer have a front porch or are used by the owners. Houses are built with a spacious deck at the back. The decks have become a room with no walls. I wonder why people no longer want to sit in front of their homes. What are they hiding in the back of the house on the deck? Of course, this is for light-heartedness.
We pack the family in the car and drive to the mountains or the shore for a week or weekend of relaxation. Then we return to the “job”, dreaming of the next vacation or “get away” weekend to relax. We complain about the money spent, the not-so-nice accommodations, and the long car ride or crowded airports. Some vacations sound more like work to me. I grew up on Wheeling Island. I had the Island, the Ohio River, and downtown Wheeling as my playground. I found myself surrounded by buildings, homes, and traffic. But there was always a spot where I could find a place to retreat and listen. Of course, growing up on Wheeling Island, my favorite spot was the bank of the Ohio River. I could reflect and dream. When I was younger, I never fully grasped the true significance of listening. Listening would become one of the most essential skills I would ever develop.
I have always enjoyed my trips to New York, Pittsburgh, Chicago, and other large cities. I enjoy getting lost in crowds of people. You become a part of the wave of people walking up and down the streets. In these cities brimming with people, buildings, and noise, you can also discover places for retreat to spend time in reflection and prayer. On a trip to San Francisco, I visited the Grace Cathedral. The Cathedral is of the Episcopal Diocese of California. Just inside the entrance of the Cathedral is a labyrinth carpet. A labyrinth is a walking maze. It allows the individual to focus, reflect, and pray while walking the maze design beneath their feet. This piece of carpet with the labyrinth design is a retreat for all who take the journey. I spoke to a young lady who just finished her labyrinth journey. The walking of the maze was her daily retreat. She could dedicate an hour each day to prayer and reflection. She can listen to the whisper of God’s voice. This is her oasis in the city.
On a walk near the Heritage Port in Wheeling one Sunday morning, I noticed a gentleman sitting on one of the benches. A rosary dangled from his hand. He had found his spot for reflection in the city. This spot did not require four walls, icons, or travel. From his seat, he could see and enjoy the creations of God while in prayer. I have seen others in prayer while walking the trails of Oglebay Park. They are in prayer when you see them make the sign of the cross while walking. These are a few examples of the people I have encountered who have found time to pray during the day. They found their treasure placed before them, the time alone with God. “He thought of the many roads he had traveled, and of the strange way God had chosen to show him his treasure,” The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho. I have found my treasure, my oasis where I can retreat and listen for the whisper. It is just outside my front door.
You and your family are in my prayers. Please remember my family in yours.
“Vocatus Atque non Vocatus, Deus Aderit”
Alex J. Nagem
May 22, 2013 (rev)