Make It So, Lord

If heaven can be made more glorious,
Make it so, my Lord.

If the honor and respect,  I show,
Sinner, though I am,
Can render
Your saints more glory,
For the light
They shine on men,
Make it so, my Lord.

If the blood of martyrs,
Can again be received
Before Your throne,
Mingled with the Blood of Christ,
That coursed their veins,
And flowed out
As rivers.
To wash the Nations
And praise Your Holy Name,
Make it so, my Lord.

All time is Now
In Your Eternity.
Your battles,
Though waging on earth,
Have all been won,
And presented to You
In Your Son.

"Thy Kingdom come!"
You make it so , O my Lord.

©2012 Joann Nelander

All rights reserved

What Will You Worship Today?

My Child,
What will you worship today?

My sun warms you and brightens your day.
My plants and animals sustain you.
My ground yields it’s treasure
To build
And energize your cities.
Rivers of beauty
Play across the land,
Teeming abundantly.

You perceive
The wonder of creation,
Yet, your love
Does not go
Beyond the creature,
To see, or seek the Creator.
You do not want
To meet the artist.

You do worship.
You worship what you love.
There is little room for Me.
I am to you a thermostat
For your comfort,
Under your control.

Desiring love
I weep.
Here I am
Within reach.
Stretch out your heart
And I am yours.

My child,
What will you worship today?

Copyright 2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

New Song

Love and praise hold hands.
Happy hearts rejoice.
Song rises from the multitude,
As lives lived in faith believing.

The Just sing with their being,
Resplendent and resounding love.
Praise embodied in saintly flesh.

New song, New Day,
New creation,
In harmony with Heaven
A symphony of faithful, forgiven witness.

Alleluia.

Copyright 2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

Food For the Poor

Lord, make my ears
Hungry for Your Word.
Give me a living relationship
With Your Father,
Who Fed You
In solitude.

May every Word He Speaks
Resound in my spirit.
May it nourish me,
Sustaining me,
As all, worshiping the world,
Suffer famine,
For want of Faith.

With Bread comes
Health and vigor,
Power to feed others
With the Food You give me
Daily at Your Table.

I listen for Your call
I listen for Your footsteps.
I hear You,
In the breaking
Of Your Word.
Bread for the hungry world.

The Lord’s Joy

The Lord’s joy
Is my strength.
He persuades my heart
By gentleness.
His mercy is a fountain
Of inner mirth,
Springing up in all seasons,
To temper my sorrow,
To pour oil into my wounds,
To salt my friendships
And to delight the Father,
Who sees me
Running after His Son,
And dancing with David’s abandonment.

May I be the dimple
In Your smile,
Appealing as the uplifted arms
Of a child,
And the innocent sleep
Of a baby.

Gladness be my swaddling,
That You may
Impart to me
The power the weak
Have to touch
The Heart of God,
Accepting always
His Loving will.

Copyright Joann Nelander 2012

Wounded Love

Thomas wanted reality.
Thomas wanted answers.
Thomas wanted undeniable proof.

He trusted his mind.
He trusted his senses.
He walked by sight,
But feared to trust
The witnesses of Resurrection.

A God, with wounds of Love, understood.
A God, marked by our disbelief,
Stood before him,
In plain sight.

Thomas finger my wounds.
Feel the warmth of human flesh.
Feel the throbbing of My Heart,
Bounding against
Your hand in My Side.

Thomas, you sought only
The trappings of reality.
Am I real now,
Real enough for you,
My friend?

Standing, face to face,
Before I Am,
Bought to his knees
By living, breathing, proof,
He stands in our place.

Humbled by faith’s awakening,
Before the True Witness,
Senses satisfied,
Content, now, and forever,
He’ll follow blindly,
Unto death,
Into eternity.

“My Lord and my God.”

Copyright Joann Nelander 2012
All rights reserved