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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
My dad was the first person to teach me to pray. As a little girl, I remember him kneeling next to my bedside, showing me the Sign of the Cross, and reciting our prayers. As a child, I didn’t see him much; he worked a lot to provide for our family. In my early adulthood, we didn’t always get along due to his vocal opinions. I came to see him as this loud, rigid man. I loved him but didn’t always like him. Both headstrong and controlling, there were power clashes between us, yet his Catholic faith was strong and never shaken.
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The-Rosary-In-Our-Hands | family prayer
During my freshman year of college, I was thinking about joining a particular household. At the Franciscan University of Steubenville, “households” are like Catholic fraternities and sororities. One of the regular commitments of this household was a Sunday evening Rosary. Let me paint the picture for you. Twenty college-age guys sitting comfortably on couches and chairs in a nice warm room praying a very repetitive devotion late at night. Someone was bound to fall asleep. On this occasion, someone did. Somewhere around the third Glorious Mystery, a good friend of mine started to nod and snap back. Nod and snap back. And then, after a valiant struggle, just nod. Everyone else in the room seemed to silently acknowledge that our friend was, shall we say, no longer with us.
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Brief and contemporary inspiration focused on hope and family prayer will be delivered to your inbox! Articles include live video, written word, and links to resources that will lead you and your family deeper into faith.
The-Rosary-In-Our-Hands | family prayer
In January 1991, my cousin was sitting in a tank in a hot desert, awaiting orders to go into Kuwait. The newspapers were filled with troubling stories, and the world felt like a sea of uncertainty. Every Saturday for months, my family — aunts, uncles, and cousins included — gathered at my grandparents’ house to pray the Rosary for protection over my cousin and the success of the mission.
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The-Rosary-In-Our-Hands | family prayer
Growing up in a small village in Ireland, it was from my Grandmother Hannah, whom we called Nanny, that I observed and learned the power that prayer holds to ground and shape our lives through joy and struggle. She was the first person I saw praying the Rosary. Never far from her gnarled, arthritic hands, the beads moved between her fingers in a fluid rhythm as her lips murmured the familiar words.
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Coming from Uganda or the African tropics where the weather almost stays the same throughout the season, it is fascinating to see the seasonal changes in this country. The leaves change color, the leaves fall off the trees, the trees are left bare for months, then the trees start coming back to life by growing the leaves again, and in the end are full of green leaves again!
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The-Rosary-In-Our-Hands | family prayer
I have a routine of prayers I get through every day. Two are Rosaries, and all contain at least one Hail Mary. These prayers are my anchor, and I won’t lay my head down until they’ve all been said. Building Good Prayer Habits As a creature of habit, some prayers must be said before my feet hit the floor in the morning, and some are not said until I’m sitting in bed again. Those are my bookends. They’re not long, but they set up my day, then set it back down again.
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