I See You Through Tears

I see You through tears,
Cascading as a cleansing waterfall,
Washing away,
And carrying away,
The deeds and impurities
Of the Old Man.

Virginal flesh as gift,
Are my arraignment.
Looking in the mirror,
I see me with my eyes,
But in faith,
I see You.

The taint and stain of Sin,
The mocking of the Accuser,
Can not touch me.
Here in Your arms,
Under Your Mantle.
I find rest.

Tent with me.
Cover me.
Grace me,
And transform me,
As a land restored
And fertile .

Let me hear the roar
Of the cleansing waterfall.
Drown out
With a holy whisper,
The remembrance of Egypt,
And the shame of slavery.

My tears remind me
Of the interior bath,
And healing balm,
The gracious gift of Your work
By Your Presence,
And Your ministries.

River of Life,
I have eyes only for You.
You carry me,
And sweep along with me,
Making holy,
All those I hold dear.

Copyright 2014 Joann Nelander

Why Centering Prayer Falls Short of True Intimacy With Christ | Daily News | NCRegister.com

Source: Why Centering Prayer Falls Short of True Intimacy With Christ | Daily News | NCRegister.com

Everyday

Everyday is good.
Everyday is holy.
All days are present
In Your Light.

With my life lived
Under Your gaze,
I implore of You
A river of love.

Pour the many waters
To wash the dross away,
Then You, Yourself,
Provide pure gold.

Through the heart
And hands of the Virgin,
Purify my gift each day
As I sigh to You.

All my ways,
The moments now arrayed
Gilded by Christ
Shine in holiness.

And, though my acts
Be as the poor trinkets of a child,
Your wearing of them,
In Our Father’s Presence,
Makes Him smile.

Look on me loving You
With every beat of my heart,
Skipping happily,
As a playmate at Your side,
Everyday.

©2013 Joann Nelander

Renew the Face of the Earth

Jesus, henceforth,
Live my life
In blessed union with me,
And accept my every breath and exertion,
As Your own witness to the Father.

Pour, through me, the graces,
That change the world,
In the power of the Holy Spirit,
So that I be a portal
In Creation’s web,
As gateway,
That Heaven may flow,
Entering Matter and Time,
As on Your Altar,
That I may say with Paul,
"I live, no longer I,
But Christ lives in me,"
To the glory of God, the Father,
God, the Son,
And God, the Holy Spirit.

Command angels fly to the aid
Of this fallen land,
As ever fresh Redemption,
Fighting Your battles in the air,
And announcing Truth,
To renew in You,
Those who You have not left orphans.

The lowly exalt You,
In the garden of Earth.
As we sing Your praise,
Turn up the volume of Your Word,
That even the deaf may hear.
Issue edicts of Love,
That, at Your command,
We be Holy,
As The Father is Holy,
And You are Holy.
Holy, holy, holy.

You dedicate Yourself, eternally,
To our sanctification,
That by Faith and "Fiat"
All creation blossom forth,
A New Heaven
And New Earth,
And Your reign recognized,
And the Lie undone,
Triumphantly in the Son.

© 2013 Joann Nelander

Holy of Holies

Give me a heart
Desirous of Truth.
You, Who rent
In two the veil,
That hid Your Divinity
In the mystery
Of Flesh and Blood,
Incarnation for my salvation,
Open the Way
For me to enter in,
That loving You,
I may taste
The heavenly Bread,
And walk, henceforth,
A child, at home
In the Holy of Holies.

Copyright 2013 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

Speak the Perfect One in Me

You spoke
And matter came to be.
Beauty and wisdom
Reigned over form,
And substance served
Your Thought.

You ruled the spheres and firmament
To create both void and fullness.
Your creation dawned in darkness,
And You let there be light.

First and last and all in between
Found a  place in Time.
You spoke forth Man
And, in my time, me.

You said,
"Be perfect
As I am perfect,"
And set free the human heart,
That it might know,
And love,
And serve Thee.
Yet will resisted service
And loved naught but itself.
"Tortuous and beyond remedy",
We hid from Thee.

In Time, You spoke, the Cure.
Announcing to the Virgin,
And by a Star
And angels herald,
Saving throughout creation,
Twisted hearts.
Jordan’s waters, purifying
By the Holy to make men holy,
Love made manifest
By descending Dove
Again You spoke,
"This is my Son."

Now, bowing will,
Longing in Your Christ,
Receive me as  son to Thee,
Anoint with Healing Balm,
Redeeming accursed Fall,
That perfect I, too,
May, please Thee, be.

When You speak
Life comes to be.
Speak now, the Perfect,
That I may perfect be
And, at long last, love Thee.

©2013 Joann Nelander