GARDEN OF THE LORD

Sweet Mother, come to me.
Visit my ground.
See my wild, unruly state.
Take pity,
Take time,
Take me.
In your holy vision,
Contemplate the Face of your Son,
Recreate His countenance in Me.
Clear me.
Clean me.
Cultivate me.
Come again, and again, and again,
Work the miracle of grace upon grace.
With hand,
With hoe,
Sun and rain.
Make of me a garden.
Prepare it by your prayer, and presence.
For His good pleasure.
Plant seeds.
Envision beauty.
Raise roses.
Then, on this plain of your true humility,
Raise me for His pure delight,
Here to welcome heaven,
To sing, to play, to dance.

By Joann Nelander

Wrath of God, a Living Hell

The Wrath of God blazes forth
As left to myself,
I behold myself.
Where is His image in me?
What have I done ?

Where God is not,
Only Hell resides.
Life has become my agony,
With self-inflicted wounds.

Unchanging Purity of Being,
Fire of Love,
I, now, the antithesis,
Banishing God to the periphery
Holding Him at bay.
My kingdom, my way!

Sin rages in His absence,
A counterfeit of life,
For where the Creator is not,
There is only dissipation.
Creating nothing;
Loving no one,

I built a world apart,
Overruled His Plan,
Overturned His “Shalt Nots”
With tolerance and choice.
There is no compromise for Truth.
Sin is always a choice,
Or it is not sin.

The Wrath of God blazes forth.
Consumes the idol, self.
Now, to turn, to choose anew,
To turn again before the final hour,
While it is still Day,
No more to turn away!

So splendid a freedom is love
That it can not come to be
Without an altar,
And in the Fire of Love,
To sacrifice my “Me”.

©2014 Joann Nelander

 

 

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Refuge of Sinners

Refuge of Sinners

I sit in the sunshine of Your New Day.
Forgiveness has washed over me.
At Your Word,
Mercy has rained upon Your Beloved.

Hear now, You say to me:
You are safe, My little one.
You have chosen to hide yourself
In the Wound of My Sacred Heart.

The world about is cold and unholy,
Yet you are surrounded by angels of Light.
Warm and welcoming is the Living Flesh
That is your constant refuge.

I enfold you,
As you have  made My Body,
Your Food, your Heart,
Your own.

Copyright 2014 Joann Nelander