Who?

“Who do you say I am?”
Jesus asked.
Who do you say I am?

The jars lined the walls.
Each one marked:
A weight and words,
“Products of conception.”

Parts, just parts!
Parts, just parts?
Who do you say I am?

©2012 Joann Nelander

What of Me?

I am old and getting older.
My frame is frail and fire flickering.
My body speaks of leaving,
But what of me?

The body is all I have known.
My soul and spirit have been quite at home
What we have known of living
Has come by the body’s telling.

When I go hence,
And dust reclaims this house,
I will look to You,
For it was You who lit my flame.

The body didn’t give me life,
Nor shall its demise
Claim my life.
You are the font of my being.

Those who seek to love the world,
And those who choose the self apart from God,
Finally find they worship a needy god,
Who has not the power to meet their needs.

Before my parting,
My course will be marked,
Drawn by my choices and loves.
In death, may I further pursue my Love.

You are familiar to me in a homey way.
We have lived together all these years,
And I will recognize Your Voice
When You call me home.

No fear, no sudden fury,
Shall stop my pilgrim stride,
Or bend my will,
Long bent on You.

What of me?
Without You,
I would not know myself.
Call to me and I will come

 

©2016 Joann Nelander

As An Eagle

Lord, Most High,
Most Good,
Most Holy,
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
With You.

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,
Most Good,
Most Holy,
Carry us on eagle ‘s wings to the safety of Your bosom,
Your Truth.

The Lamb Standing

See, Sweet Lord, how noisy I am.
I come before Thee, the God Who Is,
With the clash and chatter of my day.

You, O Arion, the Lamb Standing,
Who appears to have been slain,
Reign, triumphantly before me.

You, O Agnus Dei, Lamb of God,
Establish, Your Rule and Victory,
In my poor heart.

In this Stillness,
You rest,
Having vanquished all Sin, my sin.

See, Sweet Lord, how I rest in abandonment.
I sleep, as a child, in Your arms,
Stilled before Love,

You, hidden,
‘Neath the appearance of Bread,
Succor me, now, in silence.

With the Living Water,
Flowing from the East side of the Temple,
Wash my life.

Quench my thirst,
Water my way,
Provide rich and abundant fruit.

See, Sweet Lord, my need,
Here, You, heal and restore,
Your Way in this New Day.

©2017 Joann Nelander

Distractions in Prayer

REMEDY AGAINST DISTRACTIONS

When you are distracted in prayer, commend it to the Heart of Jesus, to be perfected by Him, as our Lord Himself taught St. Gertrude. One day, when she was much distracted in prayer, He appeared to her, and held forth to her His Heart with his own sacred hands, saying: Behold, I set My Heart before the eyes of thy soul, that thou mayest commend to it all thine actions, confidently trusting that all that thou canst not of thyself supply to them will be therein supplied, so that they may appear perfect and spotless in My sight.

Remember always to say the Gloria Patri with great devotion. The hermit Honorius relates that a certain monk who had been accustomed to say his office negligently appeared to another after his death, and being asked what sufferings he had to undergo in punishment of his carelessness, he said that all had been satisfied for and effaced by the reverent devotion with which he had always said the Gloria Patri.

AN EFFICACIOUS METHOD OF OFFERING OUR ACTIONS TO GOD

While St. Gertrude was offering a certain action to God, saying:

O Lord, I offer Thee this work through Thine Only Son, in the power of the Holy Spirit, to the praise of Thine eternal Majesty; it was revealed to her that whatever action was thus offered would acquire a worth and acceptableness to God beyond all human comprehension. For as all things appear to be green when seen through a green glass, so whatever is offered to God through His Only-begotten Son cannot be otherwise than most precious and pleasing in His sight.

That you may understand how useful it is to offer all your works to God, listen to what our Lord said on one occasion to St. Gertrude: All thy works are most perfectly pleasing to Me. And as she could not believe this, He added: If you held in your hand some object which you had the means and the skill to render perfectly pleasing to everyone, and if you tenderly loved that object, would you neglect to adorn it? Even thus, because you are accustomed to offer all your works to Me, I hold them in My hand; and as I have both the power and the skill, My love rejoiceth to cleanse and perfect them all, that they may be most perfectly pleasing in My sight.

An Act of Faith

I have seen enough to know,
I just don’t know,
But there is One Who does,
Giver of Life,
Giver of generations,
Giver of prayer.

One generation to pray
For the next generation.
Mother, and father,
Grandmother, grandfather,
A circle of care
To pray it forward.

Faith waits upon the Lord,
A gift beyond measure,
A mystery waiting to happen,
Not in our time,
But in our Father’s.

No seed too bad
To wait upon,
Hope for,
Entrust to God,
In His Mercy,
And providential time.

Our own close their ears
To the prophet at home
Or next door,
But no one knows
What God has in store.

“Place them here
With Me in the tabernacle,”
Whispers God to the heart.
“I’ll have the last word,
My Love to impart.”

One generation to pray
For the next generation.
“All shall be well,
And all shall be well,
And all manner of thing
Shall be well.”     (Bl.Julianna of Norwich)

©2012 Joann Nelander