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World at Prayer blog
Reflections of Family and Faith
"The family that prays together stays together." - Venerable Patrick Peyton
The-Rosary-In-Our-Hands | family prayer
Waking yet again with a tear-stained pillow and used tissues on my nightstand, I rolled out of bed to begin another day of homeschooling my three young boys. My marriage had been very rocky for two months and I didn’t know WHY, but I knew I felt abandoned. I began praying the Rosary religiously every single day because I knew only an act from Heaven could save us. My husband’s heart was hardened toward me ... and he would not reveal why. Somehow, seven years in, I had suddenly woken up one day and we were only roommates.
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The-Rosary-In-Our-Hands | family prayer
I grew up on a Lakota reservation in northeast Montana, worshipping at a mission church in the 1970s and 80s when the Catholic Church was in flux. Our family didn’t recite the Rosary, and I’d never seen this practiced by any of my peers. The Rosary, with its many mysteries, was itself a mystery to me. But I did have a love for Mary, and as I pondered that she shared a name with my paternal grandmother, Mary Beauclair, who died before I was born, I felt a connection to Grandma through Our Blessed Mother. Being asked one May, as a child, to crown Mary on the grounds outside our parish further pulled me in. And when we watched The Song of Bernadette together one afternoon, I began to yearn to seek a life of holiness through Mary’s help. I only once recall my mother bringing out her Rosary beads, however. I’d experienced my first heartbreak as a teenager — and seeing my sadness, Mom led me through the Rosary on the living-room couch. I realized the Rosary can be a comfort when words fail.
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The-Rosary-In-Our-Hands | family prayer
One of the beautiful things about the Rosary is that once you learn the simple prayers, you can pray it anytime and anywhere. My mother taught me how to pray the Rosary as a young girl. It has been one of my go-to prayers ever since, a prayer I have turned to daily to help me navigate life. I wear a Rosary bracelet that features a cross, a Miraculous Medal, an Our Father bead, and ten Hail Mary beads. It serves as a reminder of my faith throughout the day, and I often do use it to keep track of the prayers as I pray the Rosary. However, I’m just as likely to count the prayers on my fingers as I pray while going about my daily work.
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The-Rosary-In-Our-Hands | family prayer
Many years ago, when I began trying to pray the Rosary every day (I say trying because there are still days I miss), it began as a tedious chore that I would relegate fifteen of my final minutes of the day to accomplish. Sometimes, I wouldn’t even finish; I’d fall fast asleep first. I had to change my attitude towards the whole thing. It couldn’t be just something I did because a bunch of other Catholics did it and told me I should, too. I decided to modify how and when I prayed the Rosary and started praying in my car on my way to work. It’s a 30-minute drive, and I would use a Rosary app to pray at first, but then I switched to praying aloud by memory. After doing it for a while, I noticed that my driving behavior had changed. I was kinder, more likely to let the guy with his blinker on into my lane, less likely to tailgate the guy who just cut me off. It was having unseen effects already! I started to realize that the Rosary is more than just a rote prayer but a tool to use daily!
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The-Rosary-In-Our-Hands | family prayer
I start every day with a Rosary before I do anything else and ask the Blessed Mother to "right order" my day. She never fails in this task. I started this as a young adult by invitation. At 32 years of age, I had it all. Daily prayer was not part of my routine, let alone the Rosary. I had a flourishing career and had just married the love of my life and moved to his hometown in Massachusetts. Our newlywed world quickly turned upside down. My sweet 21-year-old nephew Joe died tragically in a car accident. My father was given a terminal diagnosis and entered hospice six months later — 900 miles away in Michigan. I volunteered at our parish for a program they were launching for teens. I had never done youth ministry before but wanted to honor my nephew's memory somehow. He was such a beautiful soul.
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The-Rosary-In-Our-Hands | family prayer
It is a moment that is seared in my mind forever. I rush into my father’s room in the Intensive Care Unit of a hospital in the town in which I was born. As I approach, I see my father lying, motionless, in front of me. The nurse tells me he is the sickest patient in the ICU. My strong, resilient Daddy. Powerless. Weak. Immobile. It wasn’t that long ago that I'd phoned him to reveal a personal victory I had achieved. I was brimming with excitement and couldn’t wait to share the news. He listened, but then quite abruptly handed the receiver over to my mother. I was caught a little by surprise, but I figured he might have been in a hurry. He often seemed to be in a hurry. But not on that day in the ICU. His hurrying days were over. I tried speaking with him, but his eyes were closed and he did not appear to grasp what I was saying.
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