The month of October is traditionally dedicated to the rosary of the Blessed Virgin Mary. I grew up praying the rosary but it was not something I was particularly devoted to. I found it too tedious and too long and while I learned to recite the words early on, my mind would drift as I prayed.
As I grew older, I persisted in praying the rosary simply because it had become a ritual. And eventually, I prayed it because I’d read voluminous accounts of how the rosary helped devotees receive special graces. According to one of the promises traditionally attributed to the rosary, whoever prayed it would obtain whatever he asked for. Well, I wanted in on that. If there was some sort of “short cut” to heaven, I wanted it for myself.
Except that the rosary isn’t exactly short. At least not to one whose attention span (especially in prayer) needed further training. But I prayed it anyway. I found that I began to look forward to the time in the day for prayer. This sense of routine and ritual gave a structure that I had not previously had. Little by little and very gently, the Blessed Mother was teaching me how to pray.
Aside from the length of the time it took to pray the rosary, I had difficulty with the repetitiveness. I wanted more excitement in my prayer life and honestly, the rosary starts losing its excitement after a while. But I kept at it anyway. And in the regular rhythm and pattern of the mysteries, I began to feel more at home. If we say the rosary daily, we go through a cycle of each of the mysteries – joyful, sorrowful, glorious, luminous – twice in a week. That is something that I find very comforting – knowing that none of the mysteries are permanent, much like my experiences in life. If I am feeling sad, I tell myself that something glorious and joyful is bound to come soon. And if I feel happy, I remind myself to savor the moments because they too will be fleeting. Repeating the prayers of the rosary is teaching me to be constant and faithful not just in prayer but also in life.
In dark and difficult moments, the rosary has kept my gaze firmly on what matters. Very often when we’re anxious about something or in turmoil about situations, we run out of things to say. And so I go back to the “Hail Mary’s” and to the “pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.” I tell the Blessed Mother to pray for me – as in intercede on my behalf. But I also say, “pray for me” because I’m too sad or tired or brokenhearted to put into words what my heart is really saying, so she’ll have to be the one to say it. But it’s really not just “me.” The prayer says “pray for us” because more often than not, the cause of our sadness or broken hearts is not an inanimate object but a person. It’s the ones we deeply love who cause us to worry the most and so we do not just pray for ourselves but for those we love and… whoever else might be suffering at the moment too. And then we add, “now and at the hour of our death.” When I’m too tired to finish the rosary, I take comfort that I haven’t just asked for graces at the particular moment I say the prayer, but for every moment after – all the way to my death. And the death of the ones I love. And all sinners everywhere. The Blessed Mother will continue praying for us in our waking and our sleeping, in our wailing and rejoicing, in our waiting and our receiving.
So no matter where life takes me, I will hold on to my little beads and say my little prayers. Over and over again. Because that little chain will tether me to Our Blessed Mother who loves us beyond all telling.