answered prayers

This morning, as I climbed the stairs to work, I said my usual morning prayer to Mary. After my prayer, I usually have a little conversation with Mary, asking for her guidance, offering my day. Today, Good Friday, my prayer was a little different.

"Good morning, Mary. Today I want you to know that I wish I could console you. I wish I could be a shoulder for you. I cannot begin to imagine what it is to lose a child, let alone a son who is put to death. If I could, I would be there for you."

I went about my day, but got to head home early. When I arrived at home, and found no one home yet, I decided to take the quiet moments to say the Rosary. Friday: Sorrowful Mysteries. I have a new devotional book for the Rosary, but I had already been through the Sorrowful Mysteries in it, and knew what to expect, to a certain extent.

After four decades, I arrived at the Fifth Mystery: the Crucifixion. During the first Hail Mary, I noticed a catch in my throat; it puzzled me. By the third bead, my breathing was difficult, and by the fifth, I was crying. I finished the Rosary sobbing. (At the seventh bead, the meditation was, "I thirst," and I involuntarily let out a wail.)

After I finished, I thanked Mary for allowing me to share in her pain, her grief, and her sorrow. Never have I had such an experience. I was amazed and awed--as much by the sudden onslaught of emotion as by the sudden disappearance of the emotion afterwards. I was left with a feeling of calm and peacefulness.