Happy Garden

Lord, make of me a place of roses,
A gathering of saints,
A palace of Your glory,
Alive with the radiant splendor
Of Your Holy Spirit.

Give me that sincere and true humility,
That clears my ground
Of briars, weeds and thistle,
That rakes away debris
And furrows my field crosswise
To welcome the rains
And receive the seed
Of love and deeds as new growth
Sprouting joy and fruit aplenty.

Come here to my happy garden
To take Your rest,
Lay aside Your Cross
In promised Resurrection
Bringing forth the Sun
To shine on all.

© 2014 Joann Nelander

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Riding the Wind

He rides the Wind in power and right,
Born of Eternal Light.
All goodness follow in His train,
Like comet tails, falling stars,
That fire my night.

Here light upon my soul and nest,
As spirit bird, find place of rest,
Spreading feathered wing
As shelter, and friend,
To Godly bless.

Stirring, fan the embers of my love,
To blaze anew in fire from above
Transforming dust and dross,
To forge one who walks
Amongst the flame, O Holy Dove.

©2013 Joann Nelander

Not Me but Thee

Lord, as I begin this day,
Have it Your way.
I seek not me, but Thee.

When bitter valley threaten,
And I count the cost,
I choose not me, but Thee.

In the dark night.
Trace Your path upon my heart,
That demons, seeking to terrorize and tempt,
Meet not me, but Thee.

When gift and labor
Bring merit and reward,
All glory to, not me, but Thee.

O Lord,
May those I meet upon Your Way,
See, not me, but Thee.

© 2014 Joann Nelander

A Thousand Little Moments

I fail and I fall.
“Yes, Father, it’s me, again.”
My prayers and tears reach Your heart with plaintiff sighs.

I reach for Love, as a baby grasps the finger,
Securing You to my heart,
Binding You by trifles.
A thousand little moments, like a knitter’s weave,
Trivial triumphs conquering like souls,
For made in Your image, I desire only You.

Of wooing, my begging be a part.
I turn, my God, to You, as a prayer with every care.
Prayer and tears, now, all one,
I nestle to Your breast and am all ear.

I listen as beat upon beat,
Love’s rhythm reassures me of the next,
And, of Your eternal constancy.
I listen, as for a whisper, and fear not
Whisper every care, and fretful prayer.

I reach for You with every breath,
And sigh when You draw nigh.
You answer with a mother’s warmth,
Bending low, picking me up, and pressing me
To Your consoling bosom.

“What is it my child. Am I not here? Haven’t I given you all?”
You kiss away my tears
And delight in the exchange.
I have given nothing but complaint,
Yet, You are full of smiles.

A thousand little moments knit our day.
I cry and You comfort.
I beckon and You bend in kind regard.
You draw me into that chamber,
In which I was formed,
That hallowed space,
In which my time began.

Heaven and rest contained
In one all holy Name.
Name me, my God,
And I will come into being,
Called forth from my darkness
Into Your marvelous Day.

All our moments measured by Your mercy,
I cry out for a heart made unto Your own,
That I may grow to give Your Love.
Love begetting love, for love alone.

Lord, Make My Day

Make me all blessing, dearest Lord.
My day lies, yet, before me,
As I wake.
Your Will shall come to me.

May my arms be open
To embrace the gift.
In the giving of grace,
May I ever receive,
And not turn aside a blessing.

Some blessings come disguised.
If misfortune lies at my doorstep,
Help me, in my fear,
Lest I bar the door as curse.

You plot a Way across stony ground,
That will lead me, true to You,
To troves You treasure,
Hidden in dark places.

You set my course.
May Your brave Spirit
Dress me for each day,
That I may know,
With steady heart,
Your Way is my way,
And I am sent,
And set upon it.

I must stay that course,
Returning blessing for the curse,
Thus spreading grace
That grace abound.

With seeds for the morrow
Fill my purse
That I might spend You
On the poor,
And lavish You on sinners
As I go.

At day’s end
May I find myself rejoicing,
And safely rest in Thee,
My All and happy end.

By Joann Nelander

Not Me but Thee

Lord, as I begin this day,
Have it Your way.
I seek not me, but Thee.

When bitter valley threaten,
And I count the cost,
I choose not me, but Thee.

In the dark night.
Trace Your path upon my heart,
That demons, seeking to terrorize and tempt,
Meet not me, but Thee.

When gift and labor
Bring merit and reward,
All glory to, not me, but Thee.

O Lord,
May those I meet upon Your Way,
See, not me, but Thee.

© 2014 Joann Nelander