One year ago today I did something crazy: I prayed the rosary. To some, that probably doesn’t sound that crazy, but to the girl crying her eyes out on the adoration chapel floor, it sounded pretty crazy. To the people in the adoration chapel that night: sometimes a girl’s just gotta cry and give it all to Jesus…and to Mary.
I’ve blogged about this before, but one year later it deserves its own blog post.
It was a warm August evening as I drove home from a party where someone from my past had been. As I tried to fight back the tears from my eyes and the screaming from my throat, I called a friend unsure of what to make of the events that had taken place at the party. My heart was all kinds of confused, lost, hurt, and yet oddly hopeful. My friend, both pleading for my safety and for my peace of heart, told me to go to adoration. I told her I didn’t have a key on me and it would be dumb anyway (go ahead, laugh at that, I do!). She told me to go to my parents house, get the adoration key, and drive my butt back to adoration and just sit with Jesus. So I did.
I walked into the adoration chapel and sat in the back on the floor with the comfy pillows. At first I just sat there, my head still spinning and trying to make sense of it all. [I should probably mention that at this party I was not hurt or violated…just an emotionally charged evening.] I wanted to yell at God that none of this made any sense, that I didn’t know what to do, and that He was leading me confusion, not to peace. But, alas, there were people in the chapel, so I refrained from yelling. Instead, I began to cry. Big. Ugly. Tears. I remember a few folks in there looking at me to make sure I was alright, and one sweet lady even offered me a pile of tissues. Then, out of nowhere, I felt like I needed to yank my rosary bracelet off my wrist and actually pray it. Not just a decade, the whole thing. God placed it on my heart to pray very intentionally for the person and the situation the drove me to the adoration chapel that night. I told Mary I’d pray for exactly three weeks and then I’d be done with this non-sense rosary-praying business. Like I’ve said before, she was right, I was wrong.
I’ve prayed the rosary every single day since that night in the adoration chapel. Now, I can’t imagine my life or my day without the rosary being in it. Mary, as I’ve said before, grabbed hold of my heart that night and she hasn’t let go. I’ve come to know her in a more profound way than I ever had before. She’s become the Mother Christ intended her to be when He offered her to all of us. I’ve come to know her Son in a more intimate way as well. Meditating on the mysteries gives me new insights to life, love, relationships, and the holiness God is calling each one of to. I’ve written about different mysteries and how the rosary relates to so many aspects of our lives. But beyond the writing and beyond the rote repetition of the prayers, I’ve come to know a peace and a steadiness in the past year that it unlike any I’ve ever known. Mary and Jesus – the holy dream team, if you will – lead me to God the Father, who guards my heart with peace which is beyond my understanding. When life gets crazy, when life is beautiful, when life is confusing, terrifying, stressful, joyful, glorious, sorrowful, or luminous (see what I did there?), the rosary is there, like the anchor that holds the boat in the stormy seas so that, like Peter, I can walk on the water towards the One I love.