I lost my Rosary

My most prized possession is my Rosary. And I’ve lost it.

My cousin Jennifer sent me this very special Rosary when my youngest son was having a medical issue. I was so distraught over his condition and have never prayed more sincerely nor more constantly for the Blessed Mother to intercede to the Lord to heal my son than I did at that time. 

Jennifer had visited Medjugorje where the Blessed Mother has appeared. The medallion that was attached to the Rosary had been blessed by the Virgin Mother herself (I envision that a basket of several thousand medallions might have been blessed at the same time). My dear cousin gifted me with a Rosary with this special blessed medallion fixed on the link that connects the opening prayer beads with the five decades of Hail Marys.

Some 27 years later, I would pray to the Blessed Mother, using the same Rosary, at my father’s bedside as he passed into eternal life. The moment he passed is the single most important and profound moment in my life thus far.

And now I can’t find that rosary.

But what’s worse is that I keep forgetting to look for it. This, I don’t understand. But it just became clear to me what a metaphor this experience is for the way we handle prayer and praise during the course of our everyday lives.

It was three days ago that I realized I didn’t know where my Rosary was. I first thought of it while driving. I told myself that as soon as I got home I would look for it. Then, when at home, I was distracted. The next day, I realized while making dinner that I had not yet looked for it. I was once again distracted.

How can we put anything before our prayerful time with our Mother. How is it that I kept forgetting to look for her in my Rosary?

I need to get my priorities straight. To NEED it to pray for someone or something, and not be able to find it, is inexcusable. Shame on me. Interestingly, I’ve had this realization two days before the one-year anniversary of me pledging to write in this very blog about the Blessed Mother – the Feast of the Assumption.

As you can see from the photo, the priceless medallion fell off at some point. I believe it was during one of the times I prayed with the Rosary group at St. John Vianney Chapel on Balboa Island in Southern California. My hope was that someone who needed it more had found it and now cherishes it as much as I did. The crucifix eventually broke. So my Rosary is showing its wear and tear. And that’s a good thing.

August 15, 2020 Update: I finally found my Rosary. I prayed out loud a heartfelt Rosary of thanks.

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