The trouble with novenas
Have you been praying the St. Andrew Novena? I tried and failed at praying this one many times and for many years. Two years ago, though, I used the trick of putting the text of the prayer on my phone's lock screen, and I succeeded in completing it for the first time ever. Seeing it on my phone was a continual reminder to pray throughout Advent. I did the same thing again last year, and I succeeded again!
(Here are some nice free options, if you are looking for an image to use.)
The St. Andrew novena seems long and complicated, but I have to tell you that in fact, it is pretty simple. The words themselves are a beautiful invitation to meditative prayer, focused on Jesus, Mary, and the nativity. I think sometimes we see the instruction to say the prayer “15 times a day” and we think that means we must remember to pray it 15 separate times throughout the day (at least I did, once upon a time). But you can simply pray it 15 times in a row–use rosary beads to help you keep track, and you’re good!
Sometimes, though, praying a novena can turn into a temptation to become a bit too “legalistic” in our approach. You might have begun to read this, for example, and thought, “Well, the St. Andrew novena started on November 30. It’s too late to pray it this year!” or you might have missed a day while praying a 9-day novena at one point and then quit praying it altogether because you had “failed.”
Well, I know someone who rejoices when we quit praying, or when we decide it’s “too late” to start, and it’s not Jesus! Novenas give us structure and focus, and they can motivate us to be consistent, but we don’t “fail” if we don’t perform them precisely as described.
One recent novena “success” of mine made me laugh. About a month ago, I was praying a novena to St. Therese. I prayed every morning, and then I was on the look out for a rose. We all know how St. Therese is supposed to send you a rose to let you know that she heard your prayer!
On about the sixth day of praying, my husband Dan, some of my kids, and I were at my father-in-law’s, tackling the epic job of cleaning out his house and preparing to sell it. In his living room, there was a china cabinet, filled with trinkets. We decided it would be easier to move if we emptied it, so Dan and I began pulling out candles, figurines, music boxes, and other small treasures.
At one point, I removed a china teacup from the cabinet, and it tipped in my hands. A small fuzzy object fell from it and landed at my feet. It was small and gray. It was about the size and shape of a mouse, so I stepped back at first, startled. When it did not move, I stooped, picked it up, and studied it in the palm of my hand.
It was a rose. A dusty, decrepit, molding rose.
I laughed until I cried. I felt St. Therese telling me, “You want a rose? Here ya go!”
I think she was letting me know that she heard my prayer and that God was going to answer it, but there were things about it I wasn’t going to like.
And isn’t that the way? Isn’t that just what all prayer is meant to help us do? Make room for God in our lives and open our hearts to His will in place of our own?
St. Anthony once said:
“Those who ask in faith for anything in particular should always submit their own will to the will of God. In our petitions we should pray with childlike faith and never cling stubbornly to our demands. We do not know what is truly necessary or good for us in temporal matters, but our heavenly Father does know.”
I might have a bad habit of “stubbornly clinging,” and a moldy rose is a hilarious reminder that I do not always know best.
St. Anthony, St. Andrew, and St. Therese, pray for us!