During my Lenten retreat, I made a commitment to pray the rosary 3 times a day. That’s nothing compared to Imaculee Ilibagiza’s 27 rosaries a day, but it isn’t easy nonetheless.
More often than not, I get interrupted with cleaning up unscheduled juice spills or breaking up screaming catfights that I forget where I left off, so I have to start the decade all over again. Other times, I realize I’ve just mouthed off one “Our Father” and proceeded to several “For the Sake of His sorrowful passion…” from the Chaplet of Divine Mercy Chaplet before I realize what’s going on And still, there are those moments when I just prayed a “Hail Mary” to the clock while thinking I had better get to the meatball soup if I am to have it ready for dinner.
These things distress me and I honestly begin to second guess myself about the promise I made. Do I really want to keep reducing my rosaries to mere lip service? Maybe I should stop and just focus on a single “Hail Mary” that I can pray with my heart.
But then I remember a true story my cousin told me. Her husband’s Jewish mother was three years old during the Holocaust. Their family had been hiding from the searching Nazi’s but somehow the child had wandered off in full view of the soldiers. The Nazi’s approached the child and as was normal practice, ferreted out suspected Jews by a simple test. They demanded that the child say a “Hail Mary.”
Continue reading at Annabelle's blog Written by the Finger of God.
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