Listening to that Rosary, I felt protected

One evening recently, my family and I joined in praying the Rosary along with people around the world. While all three men in the house were perfectly diligent, my daughter and I fell asleep snuggling on the couch, halfway through the second mystery.

Unlike at other times, it wasn’t boredom or sleepiness that prevailed. Instead I felt an unusual and irresistible serenity. I abandoned myself like a child embraced by my father or mother.

I had been having trouble sleeping for several weeks, having many nightmares. I think I’m not alone in this. For the first time, listening to that Rosary, I felt protected. I can’t think of a better word to describe it.

I let go of my grip and dropped my ballast. At times I feel tempted to attribute my chronic insomnia to lukewarm faith and lack of trust that God is at my side. But that evening, I felt that the Rosary is the true dwelling in which I wanted to spend my quarantine, more solid than concrete walls and providing me with everything I needed.

At the beginning of the lockdown, I thought that the Church would focus all its efforts on virtual communication. I’m surprised, heartened and encouraged to note the resourcefulness of priests, friars, nuns, and thousands of other faces of the Church’s family members.

Our brothers and sisters in Christ are capable of finding creative ways to make themselves present while faithfully respecting the strict physical distancing imposed by civil authorities. It’s possible for the people of Christ to continue to bring to others the living freshness of the Good News.

It’s true that these are often small actions, but they’re like a breath of fresh air or a sip of cool water. They refresh us with the certain message that, even in the darkest dramas, death does not have the last word.

Adapted from an article by Annalisa Teggi in Aleteia