Revisiting Old Content: Where Do Rosaries Come From?
This is one of my favorite blog posts from a few years ago, when this bench was operating as Miracoli Rosaries; I had completely forgotten about this moment. I think it might be time to make that chaplet...
And by the way, the knee that was the cause of the surgery had a miraculous healing two years later. Praise God!
From February 5, 2012.
I absolutely love living this life of faith. It’s a never-ending source of joy and wonder for me. The Eucharist, the Holy Spirit, Adoration, the Church, the Saints…we are so thoroughly spoiled by the riches of our Catholic faith.
So often, it’s in the midst of living this life that the inspiration for a new rosary strikes.
This week is the perfect example of that. I injured my knee back in August  and have been living with a chip floating around in the joint ever since. Weeks off my feet, on crutches, and still I can’t run or go down any stairs without some interesting compensation. The follow-up with my Orthopedist last month struck fear in my heart: after three months of physical therapy, surgery was in order. He had no idea how badly I wanted a brown paper bag at that very moment – even though I knew that he was right. In the blink of an eye, I was scheduled and that was that. It was up to me now to fight against the fear of the unknown.
Fast forward to Trust Day. I provided the hospital my Pro-Life Advance Directive (I’m sure they loved that one. Ha!), wrote love letters to my family, did all of those last things for “just in case”. Hospital gowned, hair-netted, and hep-locked, I had some quiet time to myself, so I finished praying my rosary. I was at peace.
Out of the blue, it occurred to me to ask St. Therese of Lisieux for her intercession. God gave her such powerful favor while she was here on earth, and nothing has changed in Heaven; I was compelled. Laying on that gurney and getting ready to roll into surgery, I was exactly nine days short of the nine days required for a novena, so I made one up on the spot. On nine fingers in the space of about 18 seconds, I prayed, “Little Flower, please pray for me.” Voila! Instant novena.
I was completely unprepared for what followed. Staring at those awful green fluorescent ceiling lights, I had the most profound and utterly complete sense of hope, resolution, and joy. There are absolutely no words in our language to describe it; at least I don’t know of any. I usually have a terrifying fear, not of death, but of leaving my family behind; but in this moment, I wanted to be in the very center of God’s will for me. “Not my will, Lord, but Yours. If You want to call me Home today, that’s ok; if not, well, I’d really love to stay and raise my family. But Thy will be done.” Not long after I got the shot of Versed, I was rolled into the operating room, and one of the last things I remember is having to stretch my arms out just like on the cross. It was a powerful moment.
* * *
Through the fog of recovery, I heard my nurse anesthetist come to my side and ask me what the password was. “Huh?” He asked again. I still had no clue what he was talking about. Wasn’t he the one who gave me the Versed? Then he simply said, “Rosebud. Rosebud is the password.”
Rosebud? Oh my lands – she heard me! – and sent me a rose. Thérèse hears our every plea, and takes it straight to Holy God. What an enormous grace.
So, in this month full of love and roses, I’m thinking that this is the perfect time to honor the Little Flower with a very special chaplet. I’m thinking nine of something. Stay tuned…