The Spiritual Exercises are centuries old, yet they remain deeply personal and alive. What St. Ignatius offered the Church long ago continues to reach hearts today as a living invitation to prayer, discernment, and deeper relationship with God.
Often, that invitation is passed on quietly: through the witness of a parent, the encouragement of a friend, the example of someone who prays, or the humility of receiving help. For Marya and Nick Weil, The Cloisters on the Platte has become part of their family story. A story that crosses generations and reaches people at every stage and phase of life.
Nick remembers the blessing of being on retreat at the same time as his father-in-law. What could have been private became something shared across generations. They were not walking through the retreat in the same way, but they were present to the same silence, prayer, and invitation from God.
Marya experienced a similar grace during her first retreat weekend. Recovering from knee surgery, she had limited mobility. Nick’s sister-in-law, Tori, was also on retreat. Tori offered to take Mayra through the Stations of the Cross in a wheelchair. At first, Marya nearly resisted. Later, she recognized the moment for what it was: grace offered through the hands of another generation. By allowing herself to be helped, Marya received love, humility, and God’s quiet presence.
Marya grew up in a Catholic family, though she did not come to know St. Ignatius until adulthood. Through the discernment of spirits, his teachings came alive. At first, much of it felt confusing. Then, as Marya said, “the lights started clicking.” She realized Ignatius was describing movements she had already experienced in her heart. His wisdom gave language to what drew her closer to God and what pulled her away.
Ignatian spirituality became a natural deepening of Marya’s faith. It helped her understand that desolation is not punishment, nor proof that God has disappeared. It is something to notice, pray through, and entrust to the Lord. “It’s so comforting to know that the period of desolation will pass,” she said. “You will come back to consolation.”
For Nick, Ignatian spirituality also became a language for the interior life. The discernment of spirits has shaped him as a husband, father, and professional amid constant noise. Though silence might seem unlikely for someone with an “ADHD brain,” the idea of a silent retreat intrigued him. He has now made four retreats, each offering a needed reset.
Nick believes silence is especially relevant for younger generations. “My generation and younger generations are born into noise,” he said, pointing to texts, notifications, responsibilities, and stimulation.
For Nick, silence is not empty. It is the space where God can be heard. “When the rest of the world is screaming and shouting at us, God comes in silence,” he said.
That silence has borne fruit. Nick established a habit of 30 minutes of morning prayer. When he misses it, he notices the difference. Prayer does not remove every difficulty, but it gives him a place to return and ask God, “Where are you?”
Both Marya and Nick spoke of the beauty of the Cloisters. For Marya, the Stations allow her to enter deeply into Christ’s journey. For Nick, the chapel, trails, art, and architecture point toward God. “Beauty is the first evangelizer,” he said. “The beauty of the Cloisters is glorifying God.”
In their story, Ignatian spirituality is received, lived, and shared through a son who returns to silence, a mother who recognizes grace in a helping hand, and a family learning to see God at work in one another.
Marya summed up her encounter with Ignatian spirituality simply: “Where have you been all my life?” Her question captures the beauty of discovering something ancient that feels suddenly personal. The Spiritual Exercises remain a living gift, still shaping hearts and still being passed on, quietly and faithfully, from one generation to the next.