My Lord, my Love,
Turning to you,
I meet Your gaze.
Your eyes never stray
From your child.Since my conception,
That awesome moment,
You have kept
Careful watch over me.Through fleeting years,
You have guarded me,
As the apple of Your eye.
Your angels await my prayers.
I part my lips,
Pronouncing Your Name,
And they are at alert.“Thy Kindom come”
A flurry of wings
Break the silence.
“Thy Will be done. “
The brightness of electrum
Pervades the air.“Give us this day
Our daily bread.”
Shining beings glow white hot,
Wings unfurl.Soaring heavenward
To the throne of God,
Weightless spirits
Obtain my abundance,
In measure overflowing.Depending on You,
For even my gratitude,
I rejoice,
For the Sun rises
Each day in my heart.Searching for You,
I find Your trail,
There is food on the table
And horses in the stall,
My children, too, are clothed,
And I am adorned in virtue,
Protected by humility.
What have I,
You have not given me?Though I spend myself in labor,
My vigor, I have not exhausted.
Though, I fall into bed at night,
I look back on a day,
Lived in Your Presence.Now, I recognize Your disguise.
I find You in the dawn.
Announced by bird song.
Heralded in my children’s cries.
“Tie my shoes,”
I hear You say.Hope sends out new shoots,
As I find my strength refreshed
By your calm streams.
My duty awaits me,
And I am Your steward.Drawing from coffers
That may appear empty,
They are, none-the-less,
Full of opportunity,
As Your poor
Are always with us,
Depending on You,
And, You, on me.You no longer hide.
You await me in the voiceless.
Your vessels of helplessness
Beckon me, “Come!”Your Cross surrounds me,
As I find myself
Nailed to the society of men.
The blood of Adam fills my veins,
But, so too,
The Blood of Christ.As I expend myself on family
You are fed and clothed
In your hunger and nakedness.
As I lift my voice in song,
The high heavens resound,
Echoing Your Name.My Jesus, You, fill the Universe,
For need and the Promise of Plenty,
Are all about me,
And I am Church,
Throbbing with Your Blood,
Beating with Your Heart.Copyright Joann Nelander
Monthly Archives: August 2014
Let Me
Let me be the Star that guides.
Let me be the Voice crying in the wilderness.
Let me be the Brother that leads a brother.
Let me be the Mother bidding
“Do whatever He tells you.”Let me be tears upon Your feet,
Let me be anointing oil.
Let me be a cloak that hides your nakedness.
Let me be the prayer of the Blind Bartimaeus:
“Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.”Let me pray with You in the garden
Let me draw a spiritual sword by Your Side.
Let me help you carry Your Cross.
Let me weep with You for the Fallen and the Lost,
Lamenting, “.. you would not be gathered.”Let me feel with Mother Mary
Let me cry out like the Magdalen.
Let me, like the Centurion, recognize You in Your Dying.
Let me sit beside the Angel at Your Tomb.
“He has risen, He is not here”
By Joann Nelander
Sunday Snippets–A Catholic Carnival
It’s time once again for Sunday Snippets. We are Catholic bloggers sharing weekly our best posts with one another. Join us to read and/or contribute. To participate, go to your blog and create a post titled Sunday Snippets–A Catholic Carnival. Make sure that the post links back to here, and leave a link to your snippets post on our host, RAnn’s, site, This, That and the Other Thing.
My Posts for the past week:
Perfected Through the Cross
No Empty Dream
Folly’s Zeal
On Eucharist
I See You Through Tears
I see You through tears,
Cascading as a cleansing waterfall,
Washing away,
And carrying away,
The deeds and impurities
Of the Old Man.
Virginal flesh as gift,
Are my arraignment.
Looking in the mirror,
I see me with my eyes,
But in faith,
I see You.
The taint and stain of Sin,
The mocking of the Accuser,
Can not touch me.
Here in Your arms,
Under Your Mantle.
I find rest.
Tent with me.
Cover me.
Grace me,
And transform me,
As a land restored
And fertile .
Let me hear the roar
Of the cleansing waterfall.
Drown out
With a holy whisper,
The remembrance of Egypt,
And the shame of slavery.
My tears remind me
Of the interior bath,
And healing balm,
The gracious gift of Your work
By Your Presence,
And Your ministries.
River of Life,
I have eyes only for You.
You carry me,
And sweep along with me,
Making holy,
All those I hold dear.
Copyright 2014 Joann Nelander
Perfected Through the Cross
I would like to offer You the perfect,
But all I have is me.
So, here I am,
Sorrowful, in all my misery.In hope I approach You,
Through the gaping wound in Your Side,
Through which flowed Your Mercy,
Your Final Word.Wash me, Son of God,
In that endless river,
Your Life poured out
Throughout Time.I stand, I kneel,
Then prostrate
At Your Cross,
I wait to receive You.You are taken down,
And placed in Mary’s arms,
It is in her arms,
I find You.There with You,
I am held fast,
Giving and receiving,
The Love You have won for Me.By Joann Nelander
Host upon the Altar
Pristine the whiteness
Engulfed in radiant flame,
Golden the rays,
Set about Your throne upon the altar.
For all the beauty of the monstrance,
You outshine the artist’s creation,
Just as You outshine Creation.
Give me eyes to see the Reality.
My eyes are designed to apprehend matter.
Here, You give us Mystery, Divinity.
I long to look upon Your fleshly Flesh,
To see Your locks curl mildly on Your shoulders,
To see the flash of smile and twinkle of the eye,
Majesty of manner, and goodly gentleness.
I gaze upon the Host,
All the while my heart and mind
Bring visions to the fore.
Power subdued in obedience,
Might bowed to the Father’s Will,
Abandonment, a fulfillment of prophetic word,
Suffering and salvific.
A Babe, a Boy, a Man,
Commending unto You
From womb to tomb,
In ignominy, yet dignity,
A Life and Death
Swallowing up Your wrath.
He bequeathed to us His Mother,
His ark and monstrance,
Forever refuge of the sinner at the altar.
At the altar of His Dying,
He willed to us a Mother,
Pristine Whiteness.
Be Holy! 