When I am troubled, when I am in need, when I find myself unsure, it is in the rosary that I find comfort. It is where I turn when I need to turn to God but find only a large glob of anxiety covering me. It is the place I go, the lap where I lay my head, the way I find my Father and appreciate how much he loves me, how closely he listens, how gently he hugs me.
I will sometimes go without praying a regular rosary, but it’s always the prayer that I come back to, the prayer that leads me back to Jesus’ feet as I reflect on his life through the mysteries. It’s the prayer I turn to when I’m crying, when I’m wracked with pain, when I’m tortured by worry and despair.
In the rosary, I have a shoulder, warm and perfectly shaped for my weary soul. I’m holding Mom’s hand even as I let go of me – my desires, my intentions, my plans. It is in the letting go that I begin to let God. It is in the comfort of keeping my busy self occupied – one Our Father, ten Hail Marys, one Glory Be, one O My Jesus – that I can consider what’s important – the life and example of Jesus.
This week, I’m going to be praying a rosary – maybe using Father Groeschel’s reflections, perhaps using Greg and Jennifer’s scriptural rosary, possibly just going one decade at a time– for an intention that is so important to me, so critical, so dear to all that I hold close.
I find, though, that even with this intention hanging over my heart like a thousand-pound weight, that I need only turn to the rosary for the comfort I need to stay strong and stay focused in my prayers. I need only turn to Mother Mary for her to lead me, with unfailing accuracy, back to the safety of her son.