Category Archives: My Journal

When Jesus Passed

by

 

Where on this Earth has Jesus passed
That flowers failed to bloom?
What on Earth has Jesus passed,
That succumbed to Adam’s doom.
When on this sad Earth,
Did Jesus pass and desert’s dust remain?
Only if our fallen wills prevail,
Can Jesus come in vain.

When Jesus passed,
Did flowers bloom and birds begin to sing?
When Jesus passed,
Did children run to jump into his arms?
When Jesus passed,
Did fallen men find strength to rise again?
When Jesus passed,
And left this world, once worst for Adam’s Sin,
Did Gates fling wide at Sin’s stemmed tide,
And Paradise begin again?

© 2010 Joann Nelander

by

Be Holy's avatarInto Stillness

From the Catecheses by Saint Cyril of Jerusalem, bishop

Even in time of persecution let the cross be your joy

The Catholic Church glories in every deed of Christ. Her supreme glory, however, is the cross. Well aware of this, Paul says: God forbid that I glory in anything but the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ!

At Siloam, there was a sense of wonder, and rightly so. A man born blind recovered his sight. But of what importance is this, when there are so many blind people in the world? Lazarus rose from the dead, but even this affected only Lazarus. What of those countless numbers who have died because of their sins? Those five miraculous loaves fed five thousand people. Yet this is a small number compared to those all over the world who were starved by ignorance. After eighteen years a woman was freed from the bondage…

View original post 418 more words

Claimed in My Un-loveliness

by

Accuse me not,
But stand before me,
And claim me
As Your own.
Defend me from the Accuser of Men,
By covering me with Your mantle.

The blows I do deserve
Fall on the Son,
Who loves and protects me,
Possessing me as HIs own,
Directing me along the right path,
Walking before me with Shepherd’s staff,
As I learn to recognize His Voice,
And perceive the subtleties of Spirit.

Seeing You step out of the Fire,
And stand as fortress before me,
Naming me and protecting me.
I am finally possessed,
Claimed by Love,
In my un-loveliness.
I let down my guard,
Allowing embattled walls to fall at Your feet,
To rise again as bulwarks of Faith,
Against the Foe.

Succor,
Salvation,
and Sanctity,
Are now my lot,
And You, O Lord,
My own and All.

©2012 Joann Nelander

Full of Grace

by

In my imperfection
I offer you the perfect.
Full of Grace,
Take up my cause.

Gracious God,
You have prepared grace
And holiness of life
For all men ,
Yet we are not ready
For Your wonders.

We delay.
We play with idols,
And take for granted
The universe that engulfs us,
As though it founded itself
And raised its own pillars.
We swim in a sea of plenty,
As though it is infinite.

Fool that I am,
May the Wise Virgin,
Trim my lamp
To light my way.
Holy Vessel of all graces
Waiting in your labor
To bring us forth,
And give us the Divine Life
Held in your treasury
For the Day
The Promised One will descend from heaven
Into my soul,
And carry me,
With all your children
To that place of safe repose.

The imperfect, washed clean,
In the waters of New Birth,
Rising perfect with resplendent Light,
As swaddling and infusion,
From El Shaddai,
the God of the Great Breast,
And the womb of the chased Virgin,
Immaculate,
Which brought forth Christ
In the unity of Trinity,
Receive again bodies
As splendid as their souls.

Passion of a Warrior

by

When did his passion begin?
Did it commence with the kiss
By which he bid his loved ones adieu.
Or did the call to battle
Bid him count the cost,
Shattering vanities and proud hoorahs,
With winter ice
Though veins,
Piercing to the marrow of bone.

The Call was always greater
Than one man’s valor or presumption.
Holier than Adam could undertake in rage,
Yet a young David found an “Amen”
Rising within his shepherd- breast,
Shielded by hope and faith
Born of a Savior,
Yet borne into battle
By the foal that carried Him forth.

All battles,
Waged for the souls of men,
Find common ground;
Friend and foe,
Dying side by side.
As grains numbered as the sand,
And the blood,
Bridle high at Armageddon,
Corpses piled and claiming
The best among us,
As generations of spent warriors’ might,
Trust to God
To judge the heart of every man,
And wear his colors in His raiment.

Memories, born as festering wounds,
Or toughened scars,
Mark the man and record the Passion.
No jot or tiddle forgotten,
Fingered on the ground,
Condemning only the Accurser.

Angels minister the balm of Gilead
As the dead live again,
And the living love
Through the Darkness.
Mended hearts,
Held to a measure,
Weighed on scales of Mercy.
Are blessed.
None forgotten,
All forgiven.

How long? How long?
Martyrs witness the passion of the warrior,
And place merited crown,
And victor’s wreathe,
As a new name resounds,
Pronounced by the Mouth of God.

©2012 Joann Nelander

Poetry Picnic week 24

115 Roman Catholic Bishops Speak Out / HHS Mandate

by

H/T Thomas Peters

Here are the bishops who are Speaking Out Against Obama/HHS Mandate:

Items in bold mean the statement was read at all diocesan Masses or included in all parish bulletins on Sunday: