Category Archives: Christ

His All For You

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Woodcut for "Die Bibel in Bildern", ...

Your Father built the world
With you in mind.
You needn’t be important
To be important.
God has made you so.
You are carved upon His hand;
A perfect fit!

The Father’s desire for you,
Waits upon you.
The God of all the Universe
Halted by your will,
For without you
He won’t.

When your world
Stands still,
Limbo silent, and bereft,
Think to move the Hand of God.

“Who do you say I AM?”
When you can see it,
Say it!
Say it, so that the heavens hear you.
Say it, so the angels stop in flight.
Say it so that mountains move,
And flowers blossom.

Christ’s first buds,
Then flowers in bloom,
As Father God
Sets the world in motion
And blossoms forth in you.

Copyright © Joann Nelander

This Day For God

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John the Baptist baptizing Christ

Father, I thank you for this day, this holy day.
As I rise from sleep, may my soul arise,
Leaving sin to seek Your face.
As I wash in preparation for new day,
I recall my Baptism.
And the cleansing River of Life
That flowed from the side of my Redeemer.

 

As I clothe my body,
I remember the dignity of Christ
And the Name by which He calls me.
I am clothed in the robes of a priest
To sacrifice with Jesus in my day.
The words of a prophet
Live on my lips,
Ready to give an account
Of my hope and joy.

The Kings of Kings
Proclaims me a king,
By the power of His throne in heaven,
He rules in my life,
And the lives my life touches,
Through all generations.

Through my prayer of faith,
Covered in humility,
Born of the Blood of Christ,
Angels minister to the People of God.
Grace bringing peace, protection, strength and provision.

I proclaim my “Amen”
To His Will
And His prayer,
“Father, forgive them.”

Go before me, Lord.
Walk with me, Lord.
Be my rearguard,
Precious Savior, Warrior King!

You, Who live in me,
Suffer in my flesh
That which is to be
In this hour on Your Cross.

You are “more than a conqueror”
As You bring about Your kingdom,
In this day.
O, Love sublime,
My life is Thine.

By Joann Nelander

 

 

 

 

 

 

How Wisdom Treats His Mother – the Queenship of Mary

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King Solomon is, as the Church teaches, a type of Christ. Let us note the regard and honor with which he treats his mother. If he, who was blessed by God with wisdom, honors the Queen Mother so, how much more should we regard , Mother Mary, given us from the Cross as our Mother by Jesus as one of His supreme final acts before ascending His Throne in heaven, and opening heaven to all believers. Note,too, that he does not refuse his mother.

“So Bathshe’ba went to King Solomon, to speak to him on behalf of Adoni’jah. And the king rose to meet her, and bowed down to her; then he sat on his throne, and had a seat brought for the king’s mother; and she sat on his right. Then she said, ‘I have one small request to make of you; do not refuse me.’ And the king said to her, ‘Make your request, my mother; for I will not refuse you,’” (1Kings 2:19-20). [1]

Move the Hands of God by Prayer

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In the silence God invites without words.  My prayers are often noisy affairs filled with faces, memories, love and feelings of sorrow.  I am often overwhelmed and moved to tears by the poignancy of a fleeting thought. My heart tells me that what seems insignificant holds a treasure.  God’s gifts often come in disguise like the beggar at the door who is Christ.  The Spirit says minister here in this place at this time; reach back through the years to move the hand of God by prayer.

I am with God, the Lord of All, including Time.  I may have missed or misused moments to do good, but God reigns in Eternity, as present in the Past as He is in my heartbeat.  God’s hands are not tied by the flow of Time.  He is there and here and Eternal Now.  My lowly prayer, clothed in The Name, breaks down the wall that stands between my need or regret, and blessing.  Like the little donkey that carried the King of Kings, my humble prayer sets in motion the flow of grace to love, to heal, to mend, to restore and bless anew.

Joann Nelander

Found

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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

Host upon the Altar

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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.