Monthly Archives: July 2016

Keeper of My Soul

by

I am because You are.
I will always be,
Because you create me for eternity.

Who can grasp the eternal soul?
Who but Man is spirit celestial,
Yet of this earth terrestrial?

What does it matter that I am matter,
Made for this world and Time,
Yet envisioning a paradise more sublime?

Where will I spend my forever?
Is it for nought,
That I seek to do as I ought?

You whisper at sunset,
In the glory of the evening sky,
Telling of Mystery hidden from the eye.

You dream of me, eternally.
You fire my spirit and my stuff.
Knowing earth is not enough.

When earth can no longer
Hold my soul,
Sign me in Your celestial scroll.

Write my name in Yours,
Jesus, protector from death infernal,
Jesus, keeper of my soul eternal.

© 2016 Joann Nelander

Entrustment

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I do not see myself.
Though I long for holiness of heart,
Of this world I am apart.

I do not know myself.
Though I keep Your Image before my eyes,
The world appears in angelic disguise.

I do not trust myself.
Though I choose Your way,
I fear to be led astray.

I do not save myself,
Though I’m broken and and far from Heaven,
You live in me as heavenly leaven.

You, I see and know,
And You, I trust.
To You, my soul, I, mightily, entrust.

 

© 2016 Joann Nelander

Blessings

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How precious this life!
Who but man gives thanks

Count your blessings and render thanks.
Who do you thank?
By whom are you blessed?

Do you thank your lucky stars,
Or render God a sacrifice of praise,
On the heals of swelling gratitude?

Copyright 2016 Joann Nelander

Now for Eternity

by

All days have led to this day.

Yesterdays march up to the edge in Time,

But cannot enter upon my Now.

As precursors, they stand,

Peering onto this Today,

Blind as bats.

Their edges approach,

But halt at the Present.

Here, I reign with my will.

If all my mistakes

Shout for change,

Am I now the fool
Who fails to learn?

With the sun,

I am begun.

Eternity beckons me,

Where Time cannot go,

Invites, “Come.”

He, Who sails on Eternity’s Wing,

Would be my Mender,

Not in a breaking of the Past,

But a knitting of it,

A seamless clothe,

As His very own.

The morrow begins as a Way I choose;

Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow

Are gift to my being,

And beginning in this Now,

I am His.