Wade had just pulled into the drive, stepping out of the car from work and straight into play-mode. The boys brought him a glove and he tossed the baseball as high as he could in the air. Sunset blanketed the farm in gold as I watched—wincing a bit—hoping they’d catch it. The ball landed in the glove with that satisfying thump, and the smiling boy tossed the ball back to Dad. He threw it again. And again, and again.
Oh, to think of how far they’ve come since those early, wobbly days of tee-ball. Then again, it’s a lesson we all know: skill grows slowly, shaped over time through steady practice.
Watching them, I couldn’t help thinking how much of life is learned this way—slowly, almost unnoticed. It made me wonder: If repetition can form an athlete, can it also form a soul? Can we grow closer to God, gain hope, or build trust through the simple act of returning to the same prayer again and again?
IS REPETITION A GOOD TOOL?
Before a swing becomes smooth, before a melody becomes music, there is the humble work of doing the same thing again and again. But our culture is suspicious (or maybe just bored) of repetition, as though anything worth doing must be novel, spontaneous, or emotionally stirring. But the soul, like the body, is shaped by what it returns to.
This is why the Rosary has endured. It is not a prayer of novelty but of formation.
The Rosary is a simple prayer with a profound purpose: to lead us, through steady repetition, into the life of Christ. It is a circle of beads held in the hand, beginning with the Sign of the Cross, followed by the Apostles’ Creed, rising through the Our Father, and unfolding across decades of Hail Marys. The tactile element stills a fidgety body and its soothing rhythm quiets the racing mind so one can focus on the mysteries of Jesus’ birth, ministry, passion, and glory.
OR DO WE SOUND LIKE A BROKEN RECORD?
Sometimes, the Rosary is misunderstood as the “vain repetition” Jesus cautions against, but His warning was not about praying familiar words with a faithful heart (otherwise He wouldn’t have given us the Lord’s Prayer). He condemned the empty babbling of those who believed they could manipulate God by sheer volume or performance. The Rosary is the opposite of that.
But even simple things, like beads on a string, or a ball on a tee can make all the difference. I’ll never forget the countless hours Wade would spend with seemingly simple drills.
SEEING THIS PLAY OUT
Somedays, I’d arrive at the ballpark between practice and a spring training game and we’d go for lunch together.
“Why are you so sweaty?” I’d still wrap my arms around him, happy as could be to see him.
“Practice, babe!” He’d smile and say, “Just hitting off a tee.”
Pop! Crack! Thock! Fields and batting cages were full of professional baseball players doing the same thing, the same thing they’d been doing since they were Little Leaguers. Being formed, dialing it in, working through the kinks.
Like the Rosary: the beginner’s prayer for young Christians and the seasoned weapon of saints. Far from being mindless, the Rosary trains the heart to rest in Scripture and to linger with the mysteries of salvation.
Repetition is not mindless. It is formative. Like learning to play catch through repeated efforts, small try after small try, with a Father who keeps sending love right into our hands.
And so, we take up the beads—not because we have mastered trust or walk perfectly in faith—but because we are still learning it. One Hail Mary at a time.
