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

Many Veils

Still the many veils
Stand between us.
I know they are the weave
Of my concupiscence,
Hanging over my heart,
Weighing the corners
Of my smile,
Hiding me from You
In my shame.

Must I forgive myself
For being other
Than Your Christ?
My imperfection,
And repeated falls
Spoil my high hopes,
But I find them useful as well,
For the crushing of my pride.

The temptation to reign
In the place of God
Is Satan’s prompt,
And plays persistently,
Appealing in its disguise
As progressive,
And Evolution at its finest.

Unveiled before you
In humility
I see my call to be least,
And allow You to reign
Great in me.

Lord, triumph over vain glory,
Accomplish all
The Father desires for me,
That my baptismal garment
Of purest white
May appear
In all the colors
Of Your Glory,
God resplendent
Even in His smallest work
And humblest creature.

The Words Hung on My Lips

The words hung on my lips.
I wanted to pray
I wanted to be
In Your Presence.
I wanted to feel
Good again,
To lift myself
Out of myself,
Out of my sorrow.

I looked about me.
The world was on fire.
I could not see.
I could not find one thing
To light my candle.

There was not a breath of air.
I could feel the dark.
It pressed
And weighed
And held me down,
Like trying to run
In a dream,
My efforts went
For naught,
Amidst a paralyzingly fear,
My feet are bound,
Phantoms tying them
To the ground.

I wanted to lift my heart,
So that I could sing again.
Where was the music?
Who could play it for me?
Was I really alone?

You used to play with me.
You used to be with me,
And dance with me,
And sing with me.

I used to stand
With the others,
Raise my hands,
Open my mouth,
And proclaim my love
For You.

Where are You now?
Where have You gone?
Or was it me
Who wondered off,
Who was dragged down,
Who fell
And did not rise?

I remember Your Promise
To forgive.
I need that;
I need that forgiveness.
Give it to me now!

I am still Yours.
You have been seeking me.
I know that.
I didn’t want to know that.
But I always knew that.

Find me now!
Here I am.
Now, I want You.
I want to feel good again.
I want to feel God again,
And I know
You’ll come.

©2012 Joann Nelander

All rights reserved

Heaven’s Feast

I am hungry, Lord.
Yet, it is not my belly
That speaks.
How is it
That You have
Subjected my gut,
And even my mind
I am Your weaned child,
Yet pangs assail me?
Is it my heart
That desires more?

When You filled me,
I believed I would be
Satisfied forever.
My capacity was full
To overflowing.

As promised,
You made me grow.
As my heart expanded
In Your tutorage,
My blood alone
Did not suffice.
I fed on You,
Body and blood,
And the demand
For Life in me
Kept pace.

Here I am, again,
At Your Table,
At Banquet,
With my King.
Thankfully, my Food
Is in steady supply,
And, in that,
I will be nourished,
And hungry no more.

You never deny me.
May I never deny You,
My Host and my Plenty,
Until, at last,
I sup at Heaven’s Feast
For all Eternity.

How Poor Am I?

How poor am I?
No one suspects my poverty,
For I hide it
‘Neath empty bravado.

All show,
The fool fooling all
But myself.
Yet, sometimes,
I , too, believe
My haughty claims.
How poor am I?

Copyright Joann Nelander 2012
All rights reserved

Just One More Day

A Nation cries
In want of Thee.
Time hurries,
All the while consuming,
That which our hands have built.

Our plenty devoured
In furnaces of desire.
“More, give us more,
The engines roar. ”

You wait,
That we might recognize
Your reign.
Your sun rises on each new day.
You are patient.
Wait, wait, wait….

Obedience is not our way.
We turn only blind eyes
And misprize chastisement’s scourge.
We know only
The gates of Hell demand,
Demand our sacrifice,
Human sacrifice.
We do not deny them.

No place too sacred to invade.
Give the gods their due,
For they pay our way.
After all, we are only clay,
Living to be merry
One more day.

You speak of Love and Eternity.
Our bellies cry out “Now”
“Who needs Your Throne!”
Give us bread without God Alone.
Our way,
Just one more day.

©2012 Joann Nelander All rights reserved