Bear imitates 5-year-old boy jumping – Daily Mail

https://youtu.be/inmLutogRtI

Resting, Silent

 

virginofvladimir1

Virgin of Vladimir by the hand of JOANN NELANDER

n silence I wait, silent.
Thanksgiving and praise have created the dome about me,
As angels carry their worshipful sound
And sing my song before the Throne of God.
I am implicitly carried with their melody,
Hidden in the words playing before my God.

The Gates open to admit my presence.
I enter, bowing low,
And I am lifted on high.
Kissing the cheek of my Savior,
I wrap my arms about His Neck,
As He on earth,
Loving embraced His virginal Mother
With an all holy and forever Love.

I rest in Your Sabbath Rest,
Gathering strength for the storm,
That Your Triumph may rain down blessing,
To make all days Your Day.

Here in silence, You whisper.
And, yet, is it not, the glorious and triumphal Shout?
Reign, my Savior and King, in your little ones
Longing for You and the Eternal Rest.

Copyright 2015 Joann Nelander

A WOLF IN SHEEP’S CLOTHING (full documentary)

https://youtu.be/CGOPJwf78wg

Art and Photography

http://photo-jo.smugmug.com/

Well of Sorrows

by Joann Nelander

Come, My Beloved.

Come near.

Come ever nearer.

Stand by this,

My well of sorrow,

Waiting to draw Water,

As Life for my soul.

I offer You my pain.

I pledge my every affliction.

That nothing may be lost of this my day.

You are Life.

You are the Water.

You are the Cup I press to my lips.

Hope of my heart,

Cause of my joy.

Turn my tears into rejoicing.

As I have chosen the better part.

You are the lightness of my burdens,

The joy that fills my soul.

Come, My Beloved.

I lie at Your feet,

Pray draw Your cloak about me.

Clothed in Your Love,

Robed in the splendor of Your blazing Heart,

I rejoice in Your refreshing streams.

Blood and Water,

Mingled with the tears of my repentance,

Water my heart and soul

With Your Eternal Love.

Come, Lord Jesus, come.

Come ever nearer,

Here, now, My Love.

 

The Robe

Lord of the centuries,
Knit, of our pain, the knots,
That mysteriously arrange themselves
Across our days.

Guide, by unseen fingers,
Each little pearl,
To form a cloth
Alive with Your Golden threads,
Infinitely more than happenstance or tragedy.

Each strand of Time a mystery,
Bathed in trial and tears,
Yet rich in Awe,
Resplendent in Beauty,
And the gracious beneficence
Of sacrificial love.

Whole cloth,
Woven into a seamless robe,
You don in majesty,
Humble and meek in triumph o’er our graves,
As Life welcomes to the Banquet,
Our souls, now clad in bodies,
One with Your Own.

© 2015 Joann Nelander