C
Callin
Guest
Well, this really surprised me.
Of all the Catholic doctrine and such I’ve been learning lately, I think the Rosary has been the hardest one to swallow. It’s not in the Bible, it’s long, and saying fifty Hail Marys in one sitting just always felt wrong to me. I used to do it for a while, maybe a week or two, several months back, when I was starting to take Catholicism seriously. Then stopped, because I felt I needed to be absolutely sure that God has no issues with it.
So last night, I prayed the Rosary at my bedside, where I usually pray at night. And after the first decade or so, I just out of nowhere smelled flowers.
There are no flowers in my room. Nor have there ever been. Nor does the bathroom soap smell like flowers, so it wasn’t my hands.
So for the first time in my life, in the middle of prayer, I just start smelling the things around me. Bed, pillow, hands, shirt.
It dissipated after a while, and I could not find the source at all.
It came back later as I prayed the Rosary, then dissipated again, came back, etc, until it was finished. So afterward, I smelled the beads as well, which I figured was the only thing different from all the prior instances of praying, and no, they smelled like plastic. And they still do. Today, nothing in my room smells strange at all.
The entire thing amazed me, and even as I write this I’m certain that this is not the sort of thing I, nor my subconscious, would make up. I didn’t ask Mary or God to prove to me that the Rosary was something I should be doing, but now I’m thinking that’s just what happened.
Of all the Catholic doctrine and such I’ve been learning lately, I think the Rosary has been the hardest one to swallow. It’s not in the Bible, it’s long, and saying fifty Hail Marys in one sitting just always felt wrong to me. I used to do it for a while, maybe a week or two, several months back, when I was starting to take Catholicism seriously. Then stopped, because I felt I needed to be absolutely sure that God has no issues with it.
So last night, I prayed the Rosary at my bedside, where I usually pray at night. And after the first decade or so, I just out of nowhere smelled flowers.
There are no flowers in my room. Nor have there ever been. Nor does the bathroom soap smell like flowers, so it wasn’t my hands.
It came back later as I prayed the Rosary, then dissipated again, came back, etc, until it was finished. So afterward, I smelled the beads as well, which I figured was the only thing different from all the prior instances of praying, and no, they smelled like plastic. And they still do. Today, nothing in my room smells strange at all.
The entire thing amazed me, and even as I write this I’m certain that this is not the sort of thing I, nor my subconscious, would make up. I didn’t ask Mary or God to prove to me that the Rosary was something I should be doing, but now I’m thinking that’s just what happened.