Prayer and the Indwelling Christ

Your gaze have made it very easy,
praying that is.
Yet, for such as me,
it’s still very hard,
not seeing You across the table.

Your eyes follow me.
I know You hear me.
“It’s not You, it’s me”,
as faulting lovers say.

Your gaze never leaves me,
I can feel it
in the depths of my being.
I am never alone.

You wait,
as I turn to trifles,
or beat down troublesome giants.
You dwell upon my last words,
feeling my joy or pain
through every season of my soul.

Though my words can stop mid-sentence
or conversation cease,
still You know the whole.
With the patience of eternity, my God waits.

Eventually, I turn back to You.
Your eyes sear my soul,
O, that my heart could return that gaze.

On the best of days,
unless You bind me to You, I flit.
A thousand trumpets vie for my ear
and I am torn.

New love has a magic,
erasing the world, and becoming all.
Re-ignite that flame in me
To shut out causes, fears and strife.

Your Presence felt is strength and consolation,
Your tug is joy
and Your conversation sweetness.
If pain be the messenger
that draws me back to You,
so be it.
Better the torment of an earthly purgatory
than the foretaste of hell.

If it seems I sit at our table alone,
the note of sadness betrays the truth.
I miss you and the missing is from You.
You beckon anew.

Sup with me.
Dwell with me.
Gaze on me.
I am not alone.
My Christ is with me.

By Joann Nelander

When the Twain Shall Meet

There is a delicacy of old
With which men speak to one another.
Though, approaching from the farthest ends,
Never meeting in the middle,
Yet, do they honor one another,
In their humanity.

They offer the gift of presence,
Gifting to the other
An open ear
That wills to hear.

To do the Good
For the sake of Good,
To forge the best of thought
For presentation at the gate
Is the beginning of our holy end.

Though all men be wrong
In varying degrees,
There is something right
In putting down one’s arms
To meet as warring friends,
In hope and trust
That they serve a higher call,
When men do speak of peace.

Who is honored by this respect,
If not the Maker of all Men,
Who alone can change
Hearts of stone to flesh,
Making them like unto His own.

By Joann Nelander

Prayer and the Indwelling Christ

Your gaze have made it very easy,
praying that is.
Yet, for such as me,
it’s still very hard,
not seeing You across the table.

Your eyes follow me.
I know You hear me.
“It’s not You, it’s me”,
as faulting lovers say.

Your gaze never leaves me,
I can feel it
in the depths of my being.
I am never alone.

You wait,
as I turn to trifles,
or beat down troublesome giants.
You dwell upon my last words,
feeling my joy or pain
through every season of my soul.

Though my words can stop mid-sentence
or conversation cease,
still You know the whole.
With the patience of eternity, my God waits.

Eventually, I turn back to You.
Your eyes sear my soul,
O, that my heart could return that gaze.

On the best of days,
unless You bind me to You, I flit.
A thousand trumpets vie for my ear
and I am torn.

New love has a magic,
erasing the world, and becoming all.
Re-ignite that flame in me
To shut out causes, fears and strife.

Your Presence felt is strength and consolation,
Your tug is joy
and Your conversation sweetness.
If pain be the messenger
that draws me back to You,
so be it.
Better the torment of an earthly purgatory
than the foretaste of hell.

If it seems I sit at our table alone,
the note of sadness betrays the truth.
I miss you and the missing is from You.
You beckon anew.

Sup with me.
Dwell with me.
Gaze on me.
I am not alone.
My Christ is with me.

By Joann Nelander

Heart Afire

Jesus, Heart Afire,
Furnace blazing,
Fueled by Love,
Burning without consuming,
Radiant heat,
And all pervading.

Soul, drawn to escape
The hell of Darkness,
With an exchange
Of holy vows.
Free to flee,
Though enraptured
By superior desire.

Created One,
Of two natures,
Once at peace,
Fallen, then to warring,
Barred from Eden’s gate.

Blazing Promise
And Redemption,
Offering Sin’s undoing,
Constant in Your wooing.

Creat anew,
As once in Paradise,
Purified and restored
Exceeding recognition.
Raised beyond perfection,
Melted, purged,
Merged, and welded,
Seamless life as Mother’s garment.
To live now
In Thee,
For Thee,
Through Thee.
Knowing All
In knowing Thee.

Two natures,
Now at Peace
Both lost,
And found,
In Loving Thee.

Copyright Joann Nelander 2011

All rights reserved

From the Womb to Heaven

I write to honor and pray for the unborn infants who will be aborted each and every day.

From the Womb to Heaven

“Bless the Lord, all you works of the Lord
Praise and exalt him above all
forever.”

If Your heavens can bless You,
Simply by being
What You created them to be,
As Your psalmist proclaimed
By Your Spirit,
How much more the living,
Though unborn children of men,
O, Son of Man, Human,
As they are human?

If the elements of Nature can bless You,
By coming forth at Your Word
Why not the children
Of empty, aborted wombs,
Who will not live to pronounce Your Name,
Yet shout Your Glory in their humanity.

The Waters of the deep,
Your subjects,
Obey by their being,
As the Star of Bethlehem
Obeyed in its course,
So Your snow-white lambs
Come to You in their dying
By the Sin of Man,
Sin for which You died.

You died,
Pouring forth a River
That flows forever,
From the Temple of Your Holy Body.
Gushing forth, O Blood and Water,
Wash the Innocents
Who suffer the cold and chill of Man.

All wind blesses You, O Lord,
So may the Wind of Your Spirit
Rush to the side of these,
The weak and the powerless.
Trusting in Your Mercy,
Allow Baptismal Waters to flow,
From Your Holy Side,
In answer to the prayer
Of the People of God, Your Body.

We pray in the Spirit of Jesus,
Whose pierced Heart
Released the Mercy of God:
Father, by Your sovereignty,
Permit our spiritual act
To the full extent of Your generosity.

We Implore the proxy
Of the Cloud of Witnesses
And Martyrs crying beneath Your Altar,
All who stand in silent witness
To the death of the Unborn,
Who will be aborted this day.

God willing,
Stand in and take up Christ’s Eternal Water,
More alive than all the waters of the Earth.
Pour it for me upon each child
Now in a womb soon to be emptied.

Pray with me, O Church, as the Water flows:
“I baptize you in the Name of the Father,
And of the Son,
And of the Holy Spirit.

Let us call the girls “Mary”
And the boys “Joseph.”
God will call them by a name
Known but to Him.

That these new citizens with the saints
And members of the household of God,
Produce sweet fruit,
For having held the hand
Of a human chain of life,
From the time of Adam,
To the End of Time;
Father, grant those of their lineage
Faith in the Living God,
That those who will never
Know them in this life,
May embrace them in Heaven,
In whose courts,
They shall praise this day.

By Joann Nelander

Mary, the Means by the Will of God

O Mary, living for Christ,
From the beginning, Immaculata,
As the Father willed,
Bring forth Christ for all mankind.

Make me the fruit of your holy labor.
Mary, the means and not the end,
Carry me within your bosom blest.

O Mary, living in me,
May I receive your thoughts and inspirations.
Let your heart beat with my own.
May your soul inflame my own.
May the soul of Christ,
One with yours
By His Holy Spirit espoused,
Be seed, substance and fruition in me.

May Christ, one with your soul,
Extend His victory in me,
As your protectorate,
That the Conqueror now conquer me.

May the angels wonder at my change,
As your light and inspirations
Become my constant delight.
O, you who are all grace by the Word of God,
Supply the grace for good to me,
As your heart received His holy orders
Obedient to Him who held all sway over your being.

Be in me, the gracious gift of God,
As is all grace.
All is grace and gratitude
To His glory and your merit.
I am abandoned.
You are adorned.
I am conformed.
Christ is adored.

©2013 Joann Nelander