Jesus, Haven of My Heart

Jesus, I place myself
In the holy confines
Of Your Sacred Heart.

Heart of my heart,
Draw heaven to me.
Surround me with friends
Of Your choosing,
That my mind might be full
Of the conversation of saints.

The world is so much with me.
It is temptress and shallow.
I long for the deep
Of Your thoughts,
To speak peace and refuge
In my wilderness.

You are the haven of my soul,
The Paradise once lost,
But now given
With My daily Bread.

Exile holds no fear
For You surround me.
You are my consolation
And marrow of my bones,
Strength of my strength.

Your Holy Spirit comes to me
And turns my tears to laughter.
In a valley of vanity and pride,
Your Humanity and Humility
Take me by the hand and heart
To dwell within and be my home.

©2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

Inheritance

“It is finished.
Into Your Hands,
I commend my spirit.”
The Tree of Eden,
Poison swallowed,
By the Tree of Golgotha.

Christ, the New Adam,
Mankind begun anew,
Fellowship restored and more.
Freed from the husks of pigs
Returned to the Father’s House.
Witness the death of Death.

Lay Your Head upon my lap,
That I may hold You,
Rock You,
Cradle You in my arms.
I arrange Your Hair,
And wash the Blood,
Clinging to You,
Mourning over You,
As Mother Mary.

Open side of Jesus
Receive me.
Hide me,
In the cave of Your Heart.
I throw off my idols.
My sin is finished,
Nailed to Your Cross.

“It is finished,”
My war against You,
The burden and the price,
Life born in Your dying,
And swaddled in faith’s dark night.

The Church born
From Your pierced side.
As a fountain for the Ages,
Spilling forth
The wine of Crushed Grapes.

New Day!
Eternal Spring!
“Into Your Hands,
I commend My Spirit.”
Love has the last word.

Copyright 2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

I Thirst

You showed the way
To live each day,
One cup of water at a time.

You satisfy Man’s thirst,
By thirsting first.
We come,
One cup of water at a time.

I live anew to give
As I have received,
One cup of water at a time.

Living water ,
Abundant stream,
Channel Your Life through me,
One cup of water at a time.

©2012 Joann Nelander

Arm in Arm

Imagine a human sea,
Throng upon throng,
Gathered across Europe,
Arm in arm.

Regard the multitudes,
Witness of flesh,
Standing tall,
Staring down terror and the terrible,
Arm in arm.

A proclamation for peace,
For life, for freedom,
In the aftermath of death,
To face the future,
Arm in arm.

A call to arms:
Arms to embrace,
Arms to hold dear,
Arms to forge,

Arm in arm.

Draw from tragedy’s furnace,

Amidst the sweat and blood,

Humanity’s last hope,

(For need of each other),

Arm in arm.

Joann Nelander

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Image a human sea,
Throng upon throng,
Gathered across Europe,
Arm in arm.

Regard the multitudes,
Witness of flesh,
Standing tall,
Staring down terror and the terrible,
Arm in arm.

A proclamation for peace,
For life, for freedom,
In the aftermath of death,
To face the future,
Arm in arm.

A call to arms:
Arms to embrace,
Arms to hold dear,
Arms to forge, in heart-felt resolve,
In the furnace of trial, tears and tragedy,
An alliance of hope,
Arm in arm.

Joann Nelander

Sunday Snippets–A Catholic Carnival

It’s time once again for Sunday Snippets. We are Catholic bloggers sharing weekly our best posts with one another.  Join us to read and/or contribute. To participate, go to your blog and create a post titled Sunday Snippets–A Catholic Carnival. Make sure that the post links back to here, and leave a link to your  snippets post on our host, RAnn’s, site, This, That and the Other Thing.

My Posts for the past week:

 

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The Visitors

What did they say?
The men that came, then went their way.

Seeking the One all people long to see,
They left their hearths, these Wise Men Three.

“Where is He?”; the question echoes through ages long.
As He seeks a home ‘mong busy throng.

We prayed, sang and offered gifts beneath a tree.
Because He’s come for hearts, He’s come for me.

Where is He of blessed event,
Now the festive limbs are spent?

Has He found a hearth to call a throne?
Has He your heart to be His own?

©2015 Joann Nelander