Tough As Nails

September 19, 2014 by Be Holy

Tough As Nails – Defiant Letter to God from the World, & the Flesh

We are willing to discard the person for the part.
“We’ve made great strides”, “…a long way, Baby.”
You and Your creation shall serve us.
Yes, that is our “Way”.

It makes perfect sense to us.
After all, You are invisible,
As invisible as a child within the womb,
That is, until the flesh is torn away.

We have the technology.
See, no cringing here. “Just do it!”
We’re tough as nails.
You are familiar with nails?

Yes, tough as nails.
In this world you have to be!
Hello. Knock, knock. Are You there?
…. See, He doesn’t care.

You hold Your anger, so we say,
“Where is this God of yours?”.
Our world crumbles,
Chaos all around.
Evidence of Your absence or Your ire?
It doesn’t matter.
You are the Past. We are Now!

If I pull Your beard, will You awaken.
Are You like us?
Will You take a poll
Or turn Your blind eyes?
In Your retirement or death,

We’ve found our voice. We’ve found our fist!
Not to worry.
We’ve come a long way.
Crowned ourselves God!

©2010 Joann Nelander

Feed My Lambs

September 17, 2014 by Be Holy

I am no one,
But see the army
Of saints and angels
Who implore Thee.

You say “Feed my lambs,
Feed my sheep,”
And I am tempted
To think, I have nothing,
But, Lord, are You
Not the Whole Loaf,
And are You not
Eternal and ours?

I will give
From my Ever Present Lord.
In my poverty,
You are my abundance.

What I can not see,
I know is on the way.
You are not far off.
You have come,
And You are coming soon.
Emmanuel.

© 2011 Joann Nelander

Passion of a Warrior

September 15, 2014 by Be Holy

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.

The Breech

September 14, 2014 by Be Holy

How great is the distance between us?

Some would say
The span from East to West,
Or measure in miles the chasm
Stretching from Heaven to Hell.
Others count the centuries
Since Your earthly Presence
In hallowed flesh.

There is no numbering
Eternity or Divinity.
You are closer than my breath.
Your Heart beats within my breast.
Day by day,
Nay, moment by moment,
I pick up Your rhythm.

Traversing the breech,
You make me Your own.
Small, but beloved,
I repose in willful abandonment.
Grace-filled faith,
A movement,
Not a measure,
Soars to the heavens,
In flights of trust in You.