The rosary and I have a fitful relationship. Sometimes I’m a prayer warrior, knocking out decade after decade. Other days, I may manage one mystery but with 15 Hail Marys because I forgot where I left off. Sometimes, whole days or weeks pass with my rosary sitting snug in its velvet pouch in my purse. Mary likewise sits waiting for me to call. She knows I will. She always answers.
Yesterday, the day kept interrupting itself, and my temper worsened as the hours went on. We all woke up late. Every light ran long. The freight train blocked the last two blocks to school. We could have made it otherwise. My lunch included a bruised apple and a soup I didn't prefer and no chocolate. Classes were loud and difficult. The afternoon included laundry on every couch, and a dreary rainy cold outside.
When my teens argued, I wanted to snap, but something held me. Mary held me. She wanted my attention. I fired off a thoughtless Hail Mary, out of order, without the start or even the sign of the cross. Climbing the stairs to mitigate the growing growling between an 11-year-old and a 16-year-old, I said another. This time, I asked for peace and the right words, and the words of the prayer came slower. By the time I'd reached the second floor, I felt ready to face them. Walking down from the peace accords, I said another, and with the dishes, the rest of the decade.
The phone rang and another of my children answered but without a greeting. I told her, “You're supposed to say hello,” and heard Mary giving me the same gentle nudge. People think the rosary is long – it needs to be, to calm the wild horses of our busy minds. The rosary is a good long talk with our Blessed Mother – and she doesn’t mind if we skip all over the place. She longs to hear our trials, our joys, our worries, our hopes.
Did I finish the rosary that day? I can’t say yes, but I can say, the next day, I thought of it sooner and more decades came. Today it is difficult again, because there are many things crowding my brain. She invites me to untangle them all, and I know if I let her, she’ll problem solve with grace all I need to face. You’d think after all the examples in everyday life, I’d run to her first thing, but somehow I still struggle.
My 17-year-old comes to me late in the day, she needs help with an essay. I'm tired. It’s been a full day. Here she is, asking me to assist, and Mary is there with me saying, “Answer the call.” We make it through, and I know she guided both of us through.
So today, if your to-do list looks awful, if your kids are struggling, if the bills loom or the bad moods threaten, call on Mary. She doesn’t mind if it's a short or a long call. She'll listen to all of it, and she'll answer and hope that next time, you’ll want to talk more. Christ gave her to us, so we’d always have a way to reach Him, through her heart.
(Sherry Antonetti writes columns for the Catholic Standard. She is the author of The Book of Helen, a freelancer and a blogger @Chocolate For Your Brain!)
