Mysterious Will of God

From Your Cross
You looked upon Man
Your eyes were blinded
By Your Own Blood.
You could not even wipe
That Blood away,
For bound to a Cross,
Your Hands were held fast
To the mysterious Will
Of Your Father.

In Your Bloody Blindness,
You felt the anguish of rejection,
The rejection of Your People,
The rejection of the kings of the Earth,
The rejection of the once adoring crowds,
The rejection of cowardly friends,
Rejection of High Priests of Covenant Old,
And the rejection of disciples,
Destined to proclaim the New,
Alone,
Save for the Mother,
The Beloved Disciple
At her side,
And the repentant Magdalene,
Who knew both Sin
And deliverance at Your Hand.

From Your Cross
Look upon me.
See with Your heart
To forgive my Sin.
Draw me by way
Of the Blood and Water
Flowing from Your Pierced Side.
Wash away my Sin
In that Holy Tide,
That the Mysterious Will
Of Your Father
Give life to yet another son.
Thy will be done.

©2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

HOLIDAY GIFT – $10 OFF MY BOOKS

The Holy Night by Carlo Maratta A HOLIDAY GIFT TO MY READERS – HERE’S A CODE THAT GIVES YOU $10 OFF A BOOK:

CODE: GIVE10

Weaned Child

I am the weaned child,
Upon Your knee.
Forgetful of time,
I curl Your hair about my fingers,
And tug at Your heartstrings.

My toys, the shiny objects of yesterday,
Lie by the stairs,
By which I began my ascent to You.

Comfort me.
Cuddle me.
Tickle me.

You spend Your universe,
As You had always planned,
Delighting one so small,
The least of the Children of Man.

© 2012 Joann Nelander

Mary, the Violin

Mary, Virgin, Mother of God,
The perfectly fashioned,
And tuned instrument,
A violin,
In the hands of God,
As He plays His music
For the Son.

©2012 Joann Nelander

Be the Sun in Me

Be, O Lord, the Sun in me.
Despite, my clouds,
Masking Your Beauty,
Be seen as light invisible,
Going forth, in the Spirit,
To the world,
A world in need of Revelation.

Pierce the veil of my travail.
Linger long to suffer my malaise,
My unsettled wine.

By grace, bless me,
As you bless those
Blind to Your Presence in me.

Sacrament and penance,
My claim upon Your Heart.
Light, undiminished,
Under my bushel,
Burning bright within my core,
Make of me a lampstand,
In Your Father’s House.

Be, O, Lord,
The Sun in Me,
To a world in need of illumination.

Copyright Joann Nelander 2012
All rights reserved

Be Ready for the Infant King

The Holy Night by Carlo Maratta

Who will come to the stable
On Christmas Day?
And what will they take away?

Wise men, steadfast and earnest, came,
Instead of palace music,
They heard the donkey brae.
A lowly sound and sight,
Yet their wonder unallayed.

Many come rejoicing,
To behold the Newborn King,
Bowing low,
While angels sing.

Christ comes for all
But not all come.
Some come, behold, then fall away,
Being rootless, they merrily go their way.

Father God prepared a voice
To announce His Only Word,
A messenger, born before, to go before.
Another child, spared Ramah’s plight
To live and pierce Sin’s long night
John, O, John, still cries, “Repent!”

Prepare if you would follow.
At Jerusalem’s Gate,
Many cried, “Messiah,”
Who would soon cry, “Crucify.”

Whose will will you do,
When the music fades in life?
Pride prides itself on ‘my way,’
Confounds with will and strife.

Without a ready, willing heart,
Nothing changes Christmas Day.
Corrupt hearts go on corrupting,
All the while the kingly Infant cries,
As throughout His life,
“I am the Way.”

Whose heart will live in yours
As angelic songs fade away.
Will you simply leave the stable
To follow your own way?

Come, O come, rejoicing!
Praying for a change.
Receive the Babe within your Heart.
Beg Him forever stay.

©2010 Joann Nelander