Hide me, hold me, help me,
Living Rock of my being.
You, Truest Truth,
No mere symbol,
But Holy Being,
Are Ground of my being.
Creating with a word, the world,
You speak my name,
And, moment by moment,
Sustain my being.
Christ, my Rock,
May I forever be in Thee.
© 2015 Joann Nelander
Lord, Most High,
As an eagle, soar our nation’s skies,
Look down and take pity on a people losing their way.
See us as we struggle.
See our deceivers.
See our cherished deceptions.
See our broken law.
The weight of haughty deception,
Oppresses a people,
Fearing the gift of Life.
It is hard to juggle our many gods.
To our folly,
Mammon has supplanted our love for You.
Resisting Your Love.
We choose Death
As an answer to Life.
We think the blessing, a curse,
And the curse, a blessing, nay, a right,
Negation the same as something, someone.
Give Your People Your eagle’s wings,
To scale the heights
Carry us on Your strong pinions
To safety in the clefts of the Rock.
Hide us in Your Sacred Wounds.
With an Eagle’s talons,
Swoop upon the Enemy
Who carries off our young.
Lord, Most High,
Carry us on eagle ‘s wings to the safety of Your bosom,
Let me be the Star that guides.
Let me be the Voice crying in the wilderness.
Let me be the Brother that leads a brother.
Let me be the Mother bidding
“Do whatever He tells you.”
Let me be tears upon Your feet,
Let me be anointing oil
Let me be a cloak that hides your nakedness.
Let me be the prayer of the Blind Bartimaeus:
“Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.”
Let me pray with You in the garden
Let me draw a spiritual sword by Your Side.
Let me help you carry Your Cross.
Let me weep with You for the Fallen and the Lost,
Lamenting, “.. you would not be gathered.”
Let me feel with Mother Mary
Let me cry out like the Magdalen.
Let me, like the Centurion, recognize You in Your Dying.
Let me sit beside the Angel at Your Tomb.
“He has risen, He is not here”
By Joann Nelander
All the people of my life,
I place in Your Life.
One with the Father,
And lowly me,
Look on my memory,
And on my forgetfulness.
Search my corridors and halls.
Find all those faces and voices
Of my past, present and forgotten.
As You’ve forgiven me.
As You have drawn me.
Prepare a heavenly paradise,
In which each may dwell.
Life is short,
You alone endure,
In Your Eternity.
Copyright Joann Nelander © 2011