roamin' catholic: karin rosner

Rosary

Posted on: July 12, 2011

I came home last night from work, and I felt ill. The noise of the day, the heat, the busyness,  and the stress made me feel nauseated and triggered a migraine. I forced some cold leftovers into my stomach, and crawled into bed. I shut off the lights and made my bedroom as silent as possible. I felt chilled (even on a ninety-degree day), so I let the room be sultry, not running the fan. I lay in my bed, stripped down to my underwear.

I reached out to my bedside table, and traded my eyeglasses for another object that I keep there: my olive wood Rosary beads. I don’t always pray the Rosary as part of my daily routine; I move in and out of traditional spiritual practices as the mood strikes me. The beads have their own special little spot, next to my little traveling icons of Christ and Mary, ready for whenever I might need them.

I prayed through the decades of the Joyful Mysteries, flinging my headache and nausea, my pain and disgust, and other problems in my life and the lives I care about, at the feet of my Lord. That’s what praying the Rosary is all about for me. The Joyful Mysteries begin with the message of Gabriel to a young, scared woman in Nazareth, continue her with her journey greeting her cousin Elizabeth when the two pregnant women meet, through the birth of Jesus, the songs of Simeon and Anna in  Jerusalem’s Temple when they behold the Savior of the World for the first time, to the moment of panic where Jesus goes missing to his parents and is found teaching the elders, priests and rabbis. All who pray these mysteries behold Christ; we enter into their epiphany.

I meditate as I move through the different moments in the New Testament in a quiet, orderly way through centuries’-old prayers, from the Apostles Creed,  to the Doxology, to the Lord’s Prayer, to the words of the Angel Gabriel to Mary, “Hail Mary, full of Grace, the Lord is with you!”

Mary. Ah, yes. She’s there, too. She is not someone I worship, but she is my elder sister in Faith, and my Mother because she was and is Christ’s Mother. I believe she is still doing what she always has done, worshiping at the throne of God and interceding for all of us through prayer.

Prayers complete, I still felt chilled, but the nausea had passed. I was shivering. I pulled up my covers and fell asleep almost as soon as I had replaced my rosary beads on my nightstand. It was only 8:30 PM.

When I awoke several hours later, most of my migraine had left, flung at the manger (and the cross) using my rosary beads like a slingshot, along with the almost crazily dramatic issue I brought into prayer involving people in a mess o’ trouble,  and a mommy’s presence lingering nearby.  I felt peace.

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