What Will You Worship Today?

My Child,
What will you worship today?

My sun warms you and brightens your day.
My plants and animals sustain you.
My ground yields it’s treasure
To build
And energize your cities.
Rivers of beauty
Play across the land,
Teeming abundantly.

You perceive
The wonder of creation,
Yet, your love
Does not go
Beyond the creature,
To see, or seek the Creator.
You do not want
To meet the artist.

You do worship.
You worship what you love.
There is little room for Me.
I am to you a thermostat
For your comfort,
Under your control.

Desiring love
I weep.
Here I am
Within reach.
Stretch out your heart
And I am yours.

My child,
What will you worship today?

Copyright 2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

Forgive Me Starbucks, For I Have Sinned

Forgive Me Starbucks, For I Have Sinned.

Germanwings Plane Crash: The Last 30 Minutes – At A Glance – WSJ

Germanwings Plane Crash: The Last 30 Minutes – At A Glance – WSJ.

Well of Sorrows

You behold my inner groaning.
You grieve within me.
Low pitched moaning
Stir my depths,
Awaiting  promised vindication.
No eye, but Yours,
Beholds the river of unspent tears,
Hidden from the world of Men.
Prayer without ceasing
Issues forth
For Your ears only.

Words without sound
Shape my inner being
Fashioning a future full of bliss.
Hope of hallowed blessing,
Worthy of a king,
Yet reserved for but a slave.

O hidden well of sorrow
Dare always hope.
Here comes in triumph and thanksgiving,
The dawn of Day Spring
And Morning Star.

Not yet,
But always present.
In Faith, believing.
The Time of the Bridegroom
Coming to claim His Bride,
Robed now in wedding garments,
Washed resplendent
By crystalline waters.
Purified eyes of soul’s desire,
Embrace the eternal Son as His Beloved.

Well of sorrow,
House of Clay,
Delight now appearing
Open unto Eternity
The door of unending Joy
Hearts beating now as One.
Thy Kingdom come.

© 2011  Joann Nelander

Weaned Child

I am the weaned child,
Upon Your knee.
Forgetful of time,
I curl Your hair about my fingers,
And tug at Your heartstrings.

My toys, the shiny objects of yesterday,
Lie by the stairs,
By which I began my ascent to You.

Comfort me.
Cuddle me.
Tickle me.

You spend Your universe,
As You had always planned,
Delighting one so small,
The least of the Children of Man.

© 2012 Joann Nelander

Fifteen Prayers of St Bridget – Video

Fifteen Prayers of St Bridget – YouTube