O my Lord, God Almighty,
Rule on the throne of my life.
Set right,
Set straight,
Set at peace,
Subjugate all within my sphere.
All that I have,
All that I desire,
All that I am,
I will to You.
© 2014 Joann Nelander
It seems…
I am always talking to You,
That I am always with You,
And have no doubt
You are with me,
Listening and silent.
I am an endless monologue.
You, hovering Spirit,
Wordlessly eloquent
Abide.
You are Presence and Truth,
Listening and silent,
Thunderously silent,
Save for the stirring of my heart,
And the sometime rush of thought,
Coming, as it were,
From the bowels of my being
With frightening conviction,
And challenging my reticence
To speak aloud
The thoughts of solitude.
Reluctant always
To go about,
And leave the cloister of my heart,
Where in Your chambers I find,
And hold dear,
Private audience with the King,
The world without is a noisy charade,
And woos the pride of me take center stage.
Where suddenly I realize
I have been talking much, too much,
To my regret.
I, naggingly, suspect
I have diminished
What was my treasure
And ceased to learn.
Cacophany of me,
I cease to learn,
And simply rearrange,
That with which I am familiar.
Where do prophet, poet and a would be recluse
Find voice if not in You,
Rejecting even audience
To find You in my silence,
Your silence?
©2012 Joann Nelander
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“If you spot it, you got it!”
It’s common for folks to notice the faults of others, perhaps missing these very attributes in themselves. Psychology calls it “projection” .
It may be the person I can’t abide simply reminds me of me. Perhaps in praying for him, a passing angel will polish away my flaws, a two for one in the realm of abundant grace.
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.
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