For our Mother

When I say the Rosary, I feel I am immersed in the Ocean of God’s
love,
with Mary, the Star of the Sea, watching over me and all my loved ones.
My fingers walking the paths of the beads, heart and soul I am
transported
into the presence of the person I am praying for. I have no power to
comfort
but the Mother of God does and, by some miracle, I feel I really see them,
am there in spirit, a witness to Mary’s open and lovingly protective arms
as the very space they exist in. The stars fall to earth, the sky is her
garment.
There is no space-time as my brain conceives of them when I am
immersed
in prayer, and the universe Itself enfolds the soul I petition for like a
cloak.
There is no distance and separation – everything has its being in Divine
Love.
The “Big Bang” is a barbaric label for this infinitely tender unfolding of
joy
in Creation, a gift revealing how much God treasures us, seeds of His
heart.
The Rosary waters, soothes, invigorates my soul as exercise does my
flesh.
Yet a dead part of me resists spending time doing what appears to be
nothing.
In Truth, the Rosary is a lifeline. When I take it in my hands and hold it
gently
it pulls me up out of this world’s materialistic misery and I float
somewhere
between heaven and earth in my hope and in my longing for God
inseparable
from my love for Jesus Christ. I am discovering, have begun to
comprehend,
this is my deepest self. More profound than emotions, feelings and
thoughts
is this one pure need that has always been there inside me: to know
God exists.
Mary is the one who comforts us when we feel alone and hopeless as
we suffer
the trials of this fallen realm for she knows, in the end, our souls will
triumph
if we love and follow her Son, our Lord and God, who gives us the Holy
Spirit.

Amen.

Powers of the Rosary

August 31, 2016

This morning in church, with my eyes closed,
listening to the chanting of those saying the Rosary
led by a woman, the atonal way she spoke,
in a rote-like manor, without inflection, each word
clearly pronounced yet delivered in the same almost
flat, unchanging key, evoked in my mind’s eye a vision
of a dark, choppy ocean, a close-up view of waves in
which I saw people, refugees struggling not to drown…
I felt the voices chanting the Rosary flowing into
that turbulent water and mysteriously supporting,
upholding the people, making it possible for them
not to sink but instead to be rescued, and saved.
The blind force of nature which otherwise would have
swallowed them up, was penetrated by the devotional chant,
a repetitive, unbroken, relentless flow of sound akin to,
but much more, than a natural force, for it was driven
by a meaningful intent serving to draw Divine Power
into the world, and making it easier for Angels to save
those in danger of drowning. Although “easier” is not
the right word, and nor is “possible”, I felt the repetitive
yet soul-filled sound was essential to securing the intervention
of supernatural forces. The chanting to Mary, Mother of God
and the Star of the Sea, merged with the dark depths as on
its unfailing conscious current the people floated, able to keep
their heads above water as they struggled and waited to be saved.