A Mary Moment Monday post
I love that it’s a yearly–and, right now, a daily–habit. And…I hate that it’s a habit.
There’s something about it being a habit that makes it seem boring, unexciting, planned, rote. Aren’t those the very things I don’t want my prayer to be?
Well, maybe. But maybe not.
Prayer is, first and foremost, conversation with God. As I journey through the rosary, whether I’m distracted or focused, I’m holding Mary’s hand. I may only have the very tips of her fingers, or I may be gripping her arm. Sometimes, I’m carrying an intention that brings me to tears, that has my heart burdened, or that needs special attention. Other times, I’m just going through the motions.
It’s not so different from my conversations with other people in my life, if I’m honest. There are times when I’m on fire, paying attention, and totally worth their time. And then there’s the rest of the time.
I’m not trying to justify my mediocrity, but I do think there’s something comforting that there’s an approachability to God through the rosary. I’m reminded, every day, of the reality of the Gospel and of the accessibility he wants to have. No matter how poorly I pray, I’m trying and I’m showing up.
It’s so tempting to give up, to toss in the towel and say, feeling justified, “I’m no good at this.” It’s so appealing to think of tossing the rosary away and call it a devotion I don’t “get” or “do well praying.”
Yeah, it’s out, my guilty secret: I’m a quitter. That’s the voice my tempter uses for any number of things, and the rosary’s just an ongoing battle. I fail, quite often, in my praying of it.
But maybe my success–if you want to play along and call it that–comes from making it a habit, from clinging to it as the lifeline it is, from turning back, again and again, to the mystery of the mysteries.
image credit: Trendy Traditions