Category Archives: My Journal

Who Am I?

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Who Am I?
You, Father God,
Revealed Yourself
To Your servant Moses.
“I am Who Am. ”

You are existence
In uncreated simplicity
And immaterial totality.
My thoughts and knowledge
Are without substance or form,
A mystery of being,
An image of Your Essence.

My prayer is a begging
To shape the me of me
Into the Person of Your Son,
That my “I am,”
Be as You Are.

May what I will be
Take Life
In Your Only Begotten One,
To make me
Fit for Familial Love,
When mortal life be done.

Copyright Joann Nelander 2011

All rights reserved

To Love You More

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I live to love you more, O Lord.

Until now, O King,
I labored long for little.
I trusted to myself,
And drew life
From diminishing waters.

Famine and draught
Were upon the land,
For Sin had dried the well of plenty.
My nights were beset with worry,
And the day exhausted my meager stores.

I drew my energy
From the food of swine,
Never in short supply,
For the world, the flesh and the devil
Fed upon me,
And left, as my swill, their refuse.
Never satisfied, I cried.
My avarice outstripped my pride.
Only my growing greed kept stride.

Clouds descended
As night became my guide,
For hope is a thing of prayer,
And my prayer ceased
As from the Sun, I’d hide.

Death, the abode of Sin,
Fought to claim its prize,
And I, all but entered in,
Save for a memory,
Gleaned, as I remembered simpler times,
And leaned upon prayers said for me.

How now to thank
That faith-filled lot,
Who pled for me,
And spoke of He
Who bled to free.

I live anew,
Tears, my livery,
Shed in wanting You.
Feasting in abundant banquet,
My bread, Your Body, my Kingly Core,
Now and forever, in Eternity, O, Lord,
I live to love You more.

Copyright 2012 Joann Nelander

All rights reserved

Onesimus

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Lord make this useless beggar useful.
Like the returning Prodigal
Nothing recommends me,
And everyone but You
Condemns me,
For my rags declare my misery.

You see me
But You do not turn away.
You rush to my side,
And embrace the little one
Who wanders from Your side.

I am to You
The lost and longed for
Child of Your Heart.
My provident possibility
Is all but destiny
Awaiting my “Amen”.

You draw the bath Yourself.
You allow Your angels the joy
Of tending to my wounds.
They touch me in consolation
As they once ministered strength
To You in the garden,
For they beheld me then in Your Holy Agony.

I am the child of Your sorrow
And Your glory.
Wash me and lovingly dress me
In Your robes of holiness and light.
You are creating me even now
While You gaze on me
For I am all “Yes”.

Your kindness and Your gentleness
Convince me beyond doubt.
I yield to You my sinfulness.
Every moment in Your Presence is gracefilled.
I have but to stretch out my hand
That You might place Your ring on my finger,
Put forth my feet to see them shod for
The journey to Your house.

I walk now in Your Kingdom,
For Your Presence makes light my steps
And sure the Way.
In Your embrace I find that I can dance merrily,
For the mysterious steps
Seem to come quite naturally
As long as I follow Your gentle persuasions.

Dance on my Father,
My Friend, my King, my All.
In Your arms I have found myself.
I have become Onesimus.

Joann Nelander

You, Before the Altar

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Opening my eyes
And lifting my head
From my prayer,
My eyes fell upon you,
My friend.

Your steady gaze
Fixed on the naked Savior,
Your arms crossed
Over your breast
And you,
Lost to this world,
Spoke my prayer.
You, in iconic stature,
Embodied my heart’s cry.

Bowing my soul,
I turned within
To pray with clarity
In humble poverty of spirit,
With Faith’s certainty,
The Lord had heard,
And smiled on my desire.

Rising with my closing “Amen”,
I looked
Only to find your place
Before the altar,
Now abandoned,
Yet the holy sight is seared
On my impressionable spirit.
It lingers still.

Your gifted presence
Shall long capture,
And hold fast
The essence of being
At which I hope to arrive,
In the tabernacle of my heart,
As in pleading it resounds.
Anchored to an image
Of prayerful adoration
Living in my mind’s eye.

My God be adored,
And Your children
Forever graced.

Who is the Poorest of the Poor?

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Who is the poorest of the Poor?
Is it not the one deprived of womb?
Is it not the one gone unnamed?
Given a frame
But denied rightful claim,
Stripped bear of place,
No space to grow,
Deprived of a proper birth?
Is it not the one evicted,
Before drawing it’s first breath,
Whose beating heart is silenced,
With the sanction of the Court!?
With privacy,
Lest the whole world hear it’s cry?

Though a mother forget her child,
The Father of all fathers
Will not, no never, forget.
He has a place,
And a name,
For all the poor,
For the poorest
Of the poor,
Called “Beloved”
And “Poor No More”.

©2012 Joann Nelander

All rights reserved

Ceaseless Prayer

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Ceaseless the prayer You desire of me.
Your Eyes behold me.
You wait for me to lift my eyes
From the world
To gaze heavenward,
To behold You smiling upon me.
You long for our eyes to meet
In an exchange of love
And longing.

Ceaseless prayer is no less
Than a return of Love’s attention,
Glances passed one to the Other,
Constancy of care,
Attentive watchfulness.

Hearts speak in wordless knowing
All the while willing to know and be known.
The Greater gifting the lesser
With nothing less than His own Life.

The world becomes a room
Filled with the Light You shed
As I become a candle
Held in the Hand of God,
Melting in a pool,
Readied for a new mold,
True to the goodness
God gives me,
As He beholds
His creation from eternity
And says throughout Time
“It is good. ”

©2012  Joann Nelander

All rights reserved