Just a Pebble

On an ordinary day in Paradise,
Into a world created to glorify God and Man,
Adam introduced just a smidgen of sin.
Merely, a pebble, Adam thought,
Hardly enough to weigh on a cosmic scale.

In the grand scheme of Time, and Space,
The cosmic sea quaked.
In ever increasing concentric circles,
Shock waves carried an echo,
Reverberating, through all that is matter,
Shouting, “Me”.

On an ordinary day, dreaming of Paradise,
In a world created to glorify God and Man,
Man hides in the evening stillness.
Mercy walks about offering forgiveness.

I smile in my “niceness”.
Still in denial,
I make a show of all the good things I have done,
While all Creation simply waits on tiptoe
Praying for the revelation of the sons of God.

God Has Plans for You

God is counting on you.
God’s plan for the Universe includes you.
God’s plan for History includes you.
God’s plan of Salvation includes you.
God planned you.
You count!

Catch God’s vision.
When you are down,
Ask God, what’s up?
Plans can go wrong
But God is on track.
Are you?

Be faithful.
Little choices add up.
The ordinary is grace-filled opportunity.
That is the stuff of Saints

©2011 Joann Nelander

DEFEND AND RESIST: Michael Matt Interviews Bishop Athanasius Schneider

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

With Veronica

With Veronica,
I want to bathe Your Wounds.
Time and place are no obstacle.
You, in eternity, possess all.
Possess my heart,
And my poor intentions,
Render them pure and holy.

Wiping the spittle from Your Adorable Face,
I weep at Your disfigurement at the hands of Man.
I, in my time and turn, have looked away.
Here, with You, in prayer,
I turn back,
That my present ministries
May touch Your Body,
Alive, suffering in purgation,
Battling with the help of Heaven on Earth,
And triumphant with our Father in glory.

Mysteriously, my wounds,
And warts are healed,
My misery comprehended and mended,
By Your merciful gaze,
My shame surrendered,
And supplanted,
With your look of Love.

With Veronica,
I reach out,
Only to receive back,
My dignity,
I stoop,
To rise with You,
My Hope,
True Image of Our Father’s Love.

©2015 Joann Nelander

* The Latin meaning of the name Veronica is “True Image” (vera icon)

Chosen

O Holy Father,
On my death,
And the occasion of my judgment,
I offer You Jesus’ Love for me.

See how He wants me eternally.
Dying to hold me,
His Blood claims me as His own.

He created me with such care,
As I took form in my mother’s womb.

He lavished attentions on me
As living flesh, imbued with eternal soul,
Flourished in the abundant waters of Life.

Unique among His creations,
He smiled upon me, seeing my beauty,
And my need.

See how He sought me,
Playfully with joys,
And in sorrow as I hid myself.

See the iron of His intention,
Bent on me.

See His fury at the Foe,
Who pursued me,
Seeing His Grace reclaiming me.

My Father, minister to Your daughter,
That leaving behind my earthly life,
Heavenly couriers might present me
Before the One,
Whose Spirit lives in me.

See His pieced Side,
Opened wide inviting me,
All the more, longing,
He for me,
And me for Thee in Three,
As leaving the mortal for the immortal,
I seek sanctuary.

You are everywhere in Being,
And in me.
I wrap my heart around Your Godhead,
Your Jesus.

He embraces me with Spirit,
Even in judgment,,
I am chosen for the Son.

Copyright 2015 Joann Nelander