The Meeting Place

Here we are again,
You, Holy God,
Blessed Trinity,
And me,
Meeting in prayer.

I will to thank,
To praise,
To love,
And to extol Your Name,
The One, the Only,
The True,
My God.

Desiring so to open
Wide Your Heart,
As a gate yielding
To thanksgiving,
And receiving me,
Alive with praise and worship
Into the throne room
Of Your Love.

Bathed in the Spirit,
Being,
Receiving,
Head to heart,
Heart to head,
Head to heart,
Ebb and flow,
Water of Life,
My All.

© 2016 Joann Nelander

God Can Make It from Nothing

God can make it from nothing.
No Time, no Space, no place!
With a Word, Time,Space, place
All suns are born in His Light.

Beauty of the One Supreme Being,
Arrayed in all that is,
Himself, ethereal, everywhere and near,
Is, itself.

Living, thinking, Eternal Being,
Unseen, untouchable,
Existing forever and always,
Limitless, within and without.

Ocean of omnipotence,
Alive in Your Living,
Living in minuscule, and mighty,
Nothing without you.

Existence,
Beyond all that is.
Worlds exists without me,
But not without You.

I am called,
As You called Creation into being.
The sticks and stones of creation,
Obey Your every whim and command.

Man, alone, can say “NO”.
Place “YES” in my heart,
That I may not thwart,
But with creation play my part.

All that is,
Is of Thee,
Infinite in all Your Perfections.
My Loving Mystery.

God, You can make it from nothing,
Make of me a Son,
A light after the long Night,
Knowing in loving eternal delight.

© 2016 Joann Nelander

Refuge of Sinners

Refuge of Sinners

I sit in the sunshine of Your New Day.
Forgiveness has washed over me.
At Your Word,
Mercy has rained upon Your Beloved.

Hear now, You say to me:
You are safe, My little one.
You have chosen to hide yourself
In the Wound of My Sacred Heart.

The world about is cold and unholy,
Yet you are surrounded by angels of Light.
Warm and welcoming is the Living Flesh
That is your constant refuge.

I enfold you,
As you have  made My Body,
Your Food, your Heart,
Your own.

Copyright 2014 Joann Nelander

Virgin Mary Consoles Eve

This painting is so consoling, I just have to share it again since Advent brings us closer and closer to the precious moment of our Savior’s birth.  He comes to save Fallen Man, and with such a gentle hand.

“Virgin Mary Consoles Eve”


Crayon and pencil by Sr. Grace Remington, OCSO
Copyright 2005, Sisters of the Mississippi Abbey

Scrooge and Sacramental Confession

I found John Clark’s reflection on Dickens’ Scrooge to be as the less literary say (i.e. me), “Right On!”
Via Seton Magazine

“There is an antithesis to “sleeping in Heavenly peace”; and that is, lying awake in hellish chaos. It’s a theme that arises in the great literature from the ancients to the moderns. The solution is repentance, which Scrooge would soon realize.

“He went to church, and walked about the streets, and watched the people hurrying to and fro, and patted children on the head, and questioned beggars, and looked down into the kitchens of houses, and up to the windows, and found that everything could yield him pleasure. He had never dreamed that any walk— that anything— could give him so much happiness.”

“Everything could yield him pleasure.”

Dickens’ words will resonate with the penitent who has just been absolved in the sacrament of Penance and regained the state of grace.

This Christmas, many penitents will stand in lines for Confession. When they step out of that Confessional, you may not see them dancing, but their hearts are doing what Fred Astaire could only imagine. Mere gravity is hopeless against tethering that joy. One need not try to fly; the tough task is staying on the ground.

There is a theological term for all this: the state of grace. The “state of grace” is a very formal term. It seems very stately and very graceful. Yet, there is a childlike exhilaration to the state of grace and an infantile innocence. The state of grace is the state of happiness, of peace, of rest, of joy, of love, of wonder, of excitement, of newness.

The story of Scrooge is a story of repentance. But the best stories of repentance are fact. Not fiction. As I have said, I love this story. It is regarded as some of the finest prose in the English language.

But please remember this: If Scrooge’s story moves you to sacramental repentance this Christmas, the greatest chapter wasn’t written by Charles Dickens. It will be written by you.”

With Charles Dickens’ Tiny Tim, we say, “God bless Us, Every One!”

Refuge of Sinners

Refuge of Sinners

I sit in the sunshine of Your New Day.
Forgiveness has washed over me.
At Your Word,
Mercy has rained upon Your Beloved.

Hear now, You say to me:
You are safe, My little one.
You have chosen to hide yourself
In the Wound of My Sacred Heart.

The world about is cold and unholy,
Yet you are surrounded by angels of Light.
Warm and welcoming is the Living Flesh
That is your constant refuge.

I enfold you,
As you have  made My Body,
Your Food, your Heart,
Your own.

Copyright 2014 Joann Nelander