Official Website of the
Catholic Diocese of Little Rock
Ryan Carlson, St. Michael Church, Van Buren
Attends Saint Meinrad Seminary in St. Meinrad, Indiana
"Have you strayed from the path leading to heaven? Then call on Mary, for her name means 'Star of the Sea, the North Star, which guides the ships of our souls during the voyage of this life,' and she will guide you to the harbor of eternal salvation." — St. Louis de Montfort
I was born and raised Catholic, but the reality of the faith never resonated with me then like it does now. I wanted everything the world promises, but on the other hand, I yearned for something deeper. My own selfishness made the quick lessons take so much longer. I could not accept that the world was only empty promises left on its own. I never wanted to completely give up on God, but I never wanted to commit either. So, for years going to church felt like poking the coals of a dying fire.
Then, in God's mercy, I was blessed with a subtle but powerful grace. In 2021, my sister invited me to a 35 mile pilgrimage (basically a hike), dedicated to the Three Hearts of Jesus, Mary and Joseph, with the intention of the preservation of families, ending at Our Lady of Clear Creek Abbey. I didn't know what any of that meant. It felt easier to ignore God at that time in my life. So I asked if she was interested in a different hike or if she had asked anyone else. In the end, I agreed to go for her.
We camped out in a huge field filled with tents the first night. I admired the spirit everyone had for something I rightly expected to be difficult. At 5:30 the following morning, we woke up to the full-bodied, stabbing sound of bagpipes, like something out of Braveheart. We ate a quick breakfast in the dark, packed up and found our groups. It was a cool, misty morning and the sunlight was just beginning to show itself.
The bagpipes fired up again as we began to set out at seven o’clock on the mark. Even though I didn’t understand the culture, the energy was enrapturing. I looked around us at over a thousand people lined up 10 feet wide with medieval-looking banners bearing messages and images of devotion.
I imagined countless militaries having done this same thing for thousands of years before, and in a strange way it felt like we were also going to war. Then, five minutes in, someone began leading a rosary. Everyone, men, women and children joined in. My sister had reminded me to bring one and was now asking where it was. It confused me why anyone would ever pray the rosary. I didn’t grow up with a lot of that, though my mom did her best to set a stellar example for us. I had intentionally left it behind, believing it to be a horribly boring waste of time.
“Shoot, I forgot it,” I said. Without missing a beat, she turned to her pocket as she replied, “That's okay, I have a spare.” I held the simple, olive-wood beads in my hand, not sure that I’d ever even prayed one before. I might as well try it out, I thought. But the Blessed Virgin Mary wasn’t letting this opportunity stop here. After we finished, five minutes passed before they started another. Then another. I became genuinely curious why anyone would do this.
One rosary seemed like a lot, but three was unthinkable. We prayed 15-16 rosaries over the entire trek. Maybe it was peer pressure, maybe it was the novelty. Maybe it was desperation for something or Someone greater. In any case, I wouldn't realize until months later, that this simple prayer was already changing my life.
The more I reflected on it, the more I realized I had been a part of something beautiful. I wondered what would happen if I wrote God a blank check like many of the pilgrims seemed to have done. Despite the newfound inspiration, I only began to pray occasionally, picking up the rosary once, maybe twice over several months. At one point, I looked at a crucifix and said another prayer.
Despite only a handful of effort, grace was working. Since the pilgrimage, I had been living as if someone had just walked up to my greatest sins and worst desires and simply flipped the switch off. I knew that weekend, four months before, was when everything changed. The before and after couldn't have been more obvious, but even then I had made no resolutions.
I hadn't adopted any new change of habit. I was doing nothing different. I had barely prayed since. I had only been going to Mass and confession like before, that was nothing new. Then I realized the only thing I had never done before was pray the rosary. I felt a love and gratitude well up as I reflected on this gift and the source of it. My chains had been cut.
Looking to delve deeper, I started going to adoration. Not knowing what else to do there, I prayed the rosary. In time I realized I could do nothing more important than somehow share this gift with others. Not only did I want to share it with others, I wanted to share my new found freedom with God.
I told him that if he helped me on a big test, I would give him my life as a priest if that’s what he wanted, because I saw it as the biggest sacrifice. It was what I thought I would hate the most. Oddly, I felt instant peace unlike anything before. Then he helped me on the test. Though I still wasn’t sold on keeping my end of the deal, but in his patience he showed me many other signs that this is still what he wanted. And now here I am.
He knew my heart better than I. I love Jesus and I love Mary. Today, I am so thankful for the gift of the rosary and that I was chosen to live this life. We have these gifts like the rosary for a reason. My life is about sharing them.
