Leaving a Voicemail for Our Lady

When I say a rosary, it's typically in the car on my way to work or a meeting. I'm all alone in the car usually, so I will talk out loud to Mary before I start. Sometimes it feels like I'm leaving a voicemail. "Hi, Mary. It's me..."

I think I reached a nice spot with my relationship with Mary yesterday, because by talking to her out loud, I was able to admit that I felt distant from her, and why. I used to pray the rosary 5 days a week for a few years. I picked up a little more frequently during Lent, but nowhere near as frequently as before.

I decided yesterday that since May is the month of Mary and I need to reconnect with her, I'll do my best to say a rosary every day, even on the day of and days after my surgery. Maybe it is extra special that my surgery is taking place during her month (we were originally offered an April date, but someone else grabbed it before we could).

So, here is what my "voicemail" for Mary yesterday sounded like.

Hi, Mary. I know I have been distant for a while. I think it's because I didn't think you'd understand the pain I'm experiencing. I want to become a mom so bad, and you were pregnant before you ever really had the chance to discern the call to motherhood. But now, I see that you get it more than I give you credit for. I know how deeply you suffered as you saw your baby die on that cross, the despair that there was nothing you could do and that it was the will of God for your son to experience that fate. I'm not comparing my grief to yours, but I think it's safe to say that we both know like what it feels like to experience sorrow and pain around our motherhood. Our motherhood, Mary. I've never thought of it like that before. If I was given the choice to remain childless or to have a child to love for 30-ish years and then have him ripped away from me so violently, what would I choose? I pray that I am able to respond to any opportunity/experience of motherhood the same way that you did - with a big YES to God and continued trust in his plan, even on the darkest days. Help me to say YES (I don't think I can muster the big part yet) to this burden of infertility and to trust that there is more to all of this, just like there is so much more to your son's story than His death. Help me to remember that I have a friend and a mother in you, and that we are sisters on this spectrum of motherhood.

And... just as I finished writing out this prayer, Kris Kringle just pulled up one of "his songs" on YouTube. He has like 3-4 songs from his college days that he just loves. (We all have a few of those, don't we?) Anyway, he pulled up this one, and it huge smile swept across my face. And... he literally just pranced and scampered over to me out of excitement for this song and kissed me long and hard! I'm a lucky gal! Happy Friday!