Falling Asleep (With a Rosary)

The one hundred year old rosary I’ve been using.

Some people count sheep, I count Our Fathers and Hail Marys. I can’t say that I consistently pray the Holy Rosary every night or with much frequency like some good Catholics, but I do pray it. I like the rhythmic nature of a decade–it’s a simple litany for the prayerful intercession of Our Lady and the intervention of Our Blessed Lord. And quite often, I’ll admit, it lulls me to sleep.

Not because I’m bored, I don’t think. But because it makes me put aside other thoughts or else channel those thoughts–good, bad, or otherwise–into chanting those rote prayers that many Evangelicals abhor. I used to try and pray extemporaneously before I slept. But I always fell into the trap of trying to pray with grandeur like some eloquent Puritan. Or I opted for the infamous “Father, just…” prayers that honestly didn’t focus my attention on God. I ended up talking about me and what I wanted. 

With the Rosary, I just state my intentions (usually after the Creed), and then I focus on the Mysteries of the Life of Christ, being lead to the Lord by His Blessed Mother. I’m being rocked to sleep to rest in God’s Mercy. I’m not a bead rattler trying to make some sort of incantation; rather, I’m a child who fingers the beads given him and am content. I’ve quietly prayed the Rosary as a devotion for several years (even before I was Catholic) and I have seen miracles happen. But I don’t usually report or broadcast them.  I just am thankful, knowing that more are in store.

And so, I fell asleep last night with my Rosary about three decades into the devotion. I would wake up with a start and discover I was still clutching it. Then I would go back to sleep. I wake up and find it in my comforter, and place it in my nightstand. I’m sure Jesus heard me and His Mother is praying for me. They understand I’m their child. So they let me sleep, the babe that I am. And God the Father has gifted me of His Spirit, so like His Divine Son and His Beloved Handmaid, I can cry “Abba” with my words and actions. Even it just means I fall asleep. 

For He wakes me up again every morning and fills my lungs to serve Him anew. And for that, I am thankful.

To God be the Glory, and may He be glorified in the lives of His saints, and in His Church, both now and forever, Amen. 

Bless Me, Father, for I Have Sinned: Coming Into the Catholic Church

Holy Pontiff Francis showing true shrift by giving confession before himself hearing other penitents.

“He breathed on them and said:

‘Receive the Holy Spirit. For those whose sins you forgive, they are forgiven; for those sins you retain, they are retained.'”

–St. John 20: 22-23

The door clicked open and I went through to promptly shut it. I scrutinized the screen and kneeler and opted for the lamp-lit chair. I was face to face with the man who would now be my confessor.

“Calm down,” the priest advised. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Okay,” I agreed weakly, only to continue to fret.

“You’re what? Twenty?”

“Twenty on Easter Sunday, yes Father.”

He smiled. “Just take it easy and slow. You have those many years to confess and we can’t possibly remember all our sins. What we can do, however, is mention the things that have tripped us over time and again. So generalize, yes, but know that God’s Grace is being imparted for a brand new start. Got it?”

“Sure.”

He began to pray, asking the Father to pour His Spirit out so that I might make a good confession. After, he concluded by invoking the Holy Trinity with the Sign of the Cross.

It was my turn. I was silent for a good thirty seconds shifting in my seat. I began blubbering and stuttering, but I managed to steadily announce to God my wretchedness in entirety.Once I’d made my way through the long list I’d compiled, I expected a cut and paste penance and absolution.

That’s not what I got.

Instead, Father wanted to know what had brought me to the Church. I gave him my epic EWTN Marcus Grodi’s The Journey Home conversion speech, with my Oneness Pentecostal upbringing, Anglican christening, and the secular wanderings in between. I thought he’d have been worn out, but once I stopped talking he floored me by his insight.

“Okay, a few things,” he grinned. “First, yours is a journey that spans farther than the whole RCIA process. You’ve been beyond what that could offer you for quite some time. Second, you’ve had some deep wounds in your searching. Would you say these wounds have been mostly with your family?”

I affirmed that yes, my faith was a big gap between me and my father, who pretty much thought I was going to hell.

A somber face on his part. “All we can do is pray that the Lord will deal with his heart. Who knows? Maybe someday he’ll understand. But your mother doesn’t agree yet understands that this path is different but you’re still serving the Lord. And that’s a blessing and a very good thing. This divide hurts and may continue to do so, but know that once I grant absolution, God will put an end to your sins and the Holy Spirit will create a clean slate. Rest assured our Catholic faith is one where God is with His people, especially in the Sacraments, and you’re His now. You will see that everything we do is centered around that Table where Jesus is. What do you think?”

I thought a moment. “Father, a life without Jesus is one not worth living. I know that He’s in that Tabernacle next door.  I need Him.”

“No, it’s not. And yes He is. And these sins? Are you still doing them?”

“No, by God’s Grace I’ve been able to abstain.”

“That’s good,” he said, allowing another smile. “You’re definitely a sinner. But then, so am I. And we must return again and again to this Sacrament to implore the Lord for His Mercy. For if we don’t, then we’re not honest with ourselves. And we do not have God in us. Concerning your penance, I just want you to go out in that chapel and gaze at that crucifix. See that Love that God has given you in His Only Begotten Son that whoever believes in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life. Thank the Lord for being forgiven. Now, tell the Lord in your own words or in the Act of Contrition how you’re sorry.”

In a voice that wavered, I read the Act of Contrition. Joyous countenance ablaze, Father outstretched his hand and began to pray: “God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son,  and of the Holy Spirit.”

Signing myself with Our Lord’s redemption, I let Jesus sink into my soul.

“Blessed are those whose sins have been forgiven, whose evil deeds have been forgotten. Rejoice in the Lord, and go in peace.”

Leaving in the Peace that passes all understanding, I said, “Thanks be to God.”

I went on in the Lord to be Confirmed in His Holy Spirit, and to receive His Son’s Body and Blood in the Eucharist, weeks later. I knelt after Communion, clasped hands shaking. I’m just so thankful to be apart of the Body. So humbled to be, at last, a Son of God. It’s been a long journey, but that day where I was received for my first Confession was a reality check and a jump-start into Heaven Himself.

For in it, I encountered the power of Jesus Christ, who breathed on His Apostles, giving them the power to act in His Name and to offer the world Eternal Life–that is, Himself. Without Him, I am nothing. In Him, I am something in the Father’s Someone, His Beloved. I am a little Christ. I share the immortality that His Divinity offers.

God willing, by His Grace, and with the guidance of the Church, I am a saint. If only in the making.

Alleluia. Alleluia. Amen.