Rooted Roundup Issue No. 3
Sticky s'mores, rosary beads, and a book that reads like a prayer
Intro
Summer around here means sticky hands, air fryer s’mores at the counter, and a bowl of Nena’s orzo salad pulled out of the fridge before anyone’s officially hungry. It also means I am so glad I bought a summer pass to our local indoor trampoline gym — best money I’ve spent on a hot day all season. Same with our YMCA membership and the pool. My boys have gotten old enough that getting them out the door to places like that is finally easy instead of a production, and in the thick of summer, that ease is paying off.
I also found out Michael has The Wild Robot on his required reading list for next year — which interested me, since I remember loving the movie. I’m hoping to read it alongside him, maybe pull all three boys in on it before summer’s out.
It’s been a full week in this house — some of it light, some of it not. Last week was fireworks and declarations; this week feels a little quieter, a little more turned inward. I hope you’ll ride this different wave with me. We’ll be back to something lighter again before long.
Church Calendar
We’re deep in Ordinary Time right now — that long green stretch of the church year between Pentecost and Advent. It doesn’t have the drama of Lent or the joy of Christmas, but it’s where most of real life actually happens.
This Sunday’s readings all circle the same image: God’s Word as seed and rain. Isaiah compares it to rain falling from heaven, never coming back empty, always doing what it was sent to do (Isaiah 55:10–11). And the Gospel — the Parable of the Sower (Matthew 13:1–23) — carries the image further: the same seed, falling on different ground, some of it taking root and some of it not.
I keep thinking about that word “ordinary” alongside these readings — how a season with no fanfare, no big feast, is exactly the kind of fertile ground where a seed actually has a chance to take root. Nothing dramatic about rain falling, or a seed sitting in soil. But this ordinary season gives us a chance to breathe, discover, and grow.
From Our Week
We’re still new to praying the rosary as a family — learning the mysteries of Jesus, the order of prayers, all of it. I came from a background of spontaneous prayer, where anything liturgical or corporate felt unfamiliar. Working something so structured into our family evening prayers has been a moving shift. This visual, guided version on YouTube has been such a help, especially for my boys. It walks you through the prayers with text on screen, so nobody’s fumbling for the right words.
This week gave us a real reason to use it — a hospital day for Gjyshi ran long, and we picked up our beads while we waited. My boys’ colorful ones marked the way through the mystery, one decade at a time, since we’re still keeping it simple while we learn.
Thankfully, Gjyshi made it home later that night from the hospital. And we learned a few new prayers! If you’re also new to the rosary, I hope that link is half as helpful for you as it’s been for us.
Reading
Searching for prayers in scripture and in writings led me to Marilynne Robinson’s Gilead — winner of the 2005 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction, often called one of the great American novels of the past few decades. I’m about a third of the way through. The whole book is a letter from an old, dying pastor, John Ames, to his young son. The very first few words share a tender moment:
“I told you last night that I might be gone sometime, and you said, Where, and I said, To be with the Good Lord, and you said, Why, and I said, Because I’m old, and you said, I don’t think you’re old. And you put your hand in my hand and you said, You aren’t very old, as if that settled it.”
Oh, how honest and sad and tender!
I think that’s exactly why it pulled me in so quickly — a note of love to his son, and in his own words, a kind of prayer for him too. A few pages in, Ames writes:
“For me, writing has always felt like praying, even when I wasn’t writing prayers, as I was often enough. You feel that you are with someone. I feel I am with you now, whatever that can mean...”
I’ve always been drawn to this kind of storytelling — one that holds a moment up to the light until something true comes into view. Robinson wrestles with a scene and lets it settle into something honest, even when honest means bittersweet. And John Ames, in all his sorrow, is somehow always kind about it.
Music
Last Sunday, William wandered into the church library and asked to check out a CD — an actual CD, which he’s never used in his life. He picked Be Still: Songs of Comfort by Vince Ambrosetti.
Here’s the catch: the only CD player left in our house is buried inside the Xbox. So we changed some TV settings, William slid the disc into the console like it was the most normal thing in the world, and suddenly we had music playing through the television. I felt like I’d just discovered a record player for the first time — my, how technology has changed. And look here! I found it on YouTube: Music by Vince Ambrosetti
For several minutes, we browsed our summer books laid out on the coffee table while the tracks played quietly in the background. Then, one by one — William included — everyone wandered outside for soccer instead. But how sweet was that! I love summer’s little discoveries.
Recipe / Lifestyle
This summer has been a season of new books, new prayers, and my boys have finally twisted my arm to try a new hack on an old favorite: s’mores in the air fryer. Yes I know everyone makes these, but this is the non-messy version! And you know what? They taste great in the air fryer! If you try them, tell me — I want to know how yours turn out.
Air Fryer S’mores
1 graham cracker
1 medium square of chocolate
1 jumbo marshmallo
Air fry at 400°F until (two minutes?) til toasty outside, squishy inside
Sandwich between the graham cracker — done
“Everything is grace.” — St. Thérèse of Lisieux
So this was a glimpse into a summer week in our house. I hope somewhere in there, something was meaningful for you.
Prayer Intentions
Lord, watch over all of our homes, our families, our own small worlds this summer.
For my family — watch over my boys as they head toward a new school year; place wonderful teachers in their path, ones who form not just their minds but their hearts. Strengthen my marriage, and teach us to love each other as You’ve called us to. Be with Gjyshi — guide the hands of his doctors, ease what pain there is, and bring him fully home to us in Your time.
And Lord, be with my friend reading this too — whatever they’re carrying, wherever their own waiting is happening right now.
Amen.
Sharon Manaj writes about faith and family at Rooted at Home.