The new mysteries of the rosary introduced by Pope John Paul II in 2002 have deeply impacted our family's prayer life. We love contemplating the Lord's baptism, miracleworking at the Cana wedding, proclamation of the Kingdom, institution of the Eucharist and transfiguration.

But, even with the addition of the luminous mysteries, we must not have been satisfied that all of the bases had been covered. For, in recent months, we've developed a new set of mysteries all our own. Meet the Drake family's “Montana mysteries.”

See, whenever our five children pile into our trusty Pontiac Montana for a drive of half an hour or longer, Mary quickly dispatches a batch of white and blue rosary beads. You know — the plastic, kid-proof models that can't be torn apart by an angry, fit-throwing toddler.

Mary usually leads the prayers while Tim does the driving. We pray for a potpourri of intentions — a safe trip, sick family members, a little land we can call our own, the Church, the Holy Father and his intentions.

Perhaps you're familiar with the practice of adding a phrase after each Hail Mary to help you reflect on the corresponding mystery. For example, during the sorrowful mysteries, you might say, “and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus, who died for us on Calvary,” when contemplating the Crucifixion.

Well, we too add our own extra phrases. What they lack in spirituality, they make up for in spontaneity and humanity. Or so we hope.

“Blessed art thou amongst women — Here Elias, give him an animal cracker — and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.” This one works well when our 19-month-old son starts to cry after throwing every book on the floor that his older brother has employed to pacify him.

“Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you — Ssshhh Elena, we can't hear.” Perfect for those moments when our 3-year-old begins belting out her favorite song.

“Holy Mary, Mother of God — Keep your hands to yourself, Elias — pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Ah, ah, ah, get it! Get it!” (Too late. There go the entire contents of a sippy cup into someone's lap.)

In recent months, the children themselves have asked to lead particular mysteries, thus launching new and even more interesting variations on the theme.

“Hail Mary — I can't hear you, Elias — full of grace, the Lord is with you.” This one's usually heard when our eldest son is mumbling the lead prayers so softly that the rest of us can't figure out when our part comes in.

And then there are the steady currents flowing beneath all our prayerful excursions. Trying to get our 6-year-old twins to project their voices from the far-back seat, for example. Needless to say, these efforts are only necessary when prayers are being said. It's funny how this problem resolves itself at all other times.

Also in this vein are the predictable Where Are We's and Are We There Yets that can crop up at any moment.

The Drake family's Montana mysteries certainly are not the most deeply contemplative set of mysteries we've ever prayed. Sure, little Claire's recent “Hail Mary, full of kids,” offered with great piety, had a certain unexpected insight worth thinking about. But I don't expect to see a devotional book coming out of our improvisations, much less an apostolic letter.

Still, I'm confident that Our Lady is smiling down on us from her place in heaven. After all, when my chest isn't tightening along with my grip on the wheel (big decibels in a small space will do that to a driver), smiling is exactly what I find myself doing.

Tim Drake is the Register's staff writer.