I have recently developed a special devotion to St. Rose of Lima. I feel like she picked me, instead of the other way around.
At the recent Edel Gathering in Charleston, I happened to have her assigned to me as my hall pass and conference patron. There’s a more complicated story about that. I’ll share it another time, but suffice to say, she’s my girl now.
Coincidentally, or God-incidentally, she’s also featured in my very favorite chapter of My Badass Book of Saints.
Because I grew up Catholic and attended Catholic schools, I knew of St. Rose in that way that most kids get to know saints — there was probably a statue of her somewhere, most likely in the convent or a classroom, and if she wasn’t a martyr with some fantastic tale of a beheading, then that’s about where the story ended for me.
I’m desperately trying to make up for lost time when it comes to familiarizing myself with the lives of extraordinary men and especially women whose holy lives inspire me to grow in sanctity — one story at a time.
St. Rose, the story goes, was so beautiful that she cut off her hair and rubbed pepper all over her face in order to repel suitors.
That got my attention.
She consecrated her virginity to Christ, in spite of her father’s opposition. He wanted her to marry and blocked her from becoming a nun. He finally gave in to her, and allowed her to pursue an ascetic life, retired to her rooms.
Although she never became a nun, she did enter The Third Order St. Dominic and served the poor and sick in her community. I liked her for serving the poor, something that pulls at my heart, too.
“The gift of grace increases as the struggle increases.” -St. Rose of Lima
But her care for the sick drew me in. I started reading about St. Rose at about the same time my father’s cancer took a bad turn, and the more I read about her, the more I began to see the beauty in his caregivers, starting first with my mother but also in the loving selflessness of nurses and other health professionals.
As I learn to accept and go with the flow in my own husband’s illness, I take great solace in knowing I have in St. Rose a companion and prayer partner. That I continue to encounter her in odd moments, whether in a chapel, or like at Edel, in a medal picked out for me by someone else, tells me she has taken an interest in me.
Blows my mind a little, but why not? You can’t beat having a Saint want to befriend you, now, can you? Takes spiritual friendship to a new level. And grace.
