My Lord Jesus,
As my eyes open
On a new day,
And sleep gives way,
I find You beside me.As a lover,
You, have watched me sleep.
My stirrings,
During the long night,
Were covered
As with a blanket.Chasing dreams,
I did not notice You,
Lying there upon Your Cross,
Waiting to be lifted into place.Your forbearance frightens me.
What will it demand,
When dreams abandon me,
And leave me to Your Love.Will my “yes”
Cause You to be raised
And die for me
On yet another day?What You have done,
You are doing,
And still will do.
Such is the fearful Love
You waste on me.To Love, I am a flower
Like no other.
Like one orchid,
Blooming among millions of orchids
In dense worldly jungles,
Never to be beheld,
Yet ravishing in perfection.You cherish me,
As Your image,
Which the Beauty,
Growing in me,
Though unseen,
Will one day reveal.Yes; A thousand times, yes!
I will be your Orchid this day.
All days!
You, upon Your Cross,
Me, in the world,
But not of it,
Mysteriously bound together.Pick me!
Make of me a corsage,
One solitary bloom,
Graced beyond imaging.Press me, then,
Onto Your Father’s Breast
To wear in proclamation
Of Your Life,
Spent upon a Cross,
Bringing me to Life.As this day unfurls,
As a wave offering,
Remind me of the throne
I rest upon,
Worn as a treasure
Over our Father’s Heart.By Joann Nelander
Tag Archives: Prayer and Spirituality
Prayer and the Indwelling Christ
Your gaze have made it very easy,
praying that is.
Yet, for such as me,
it’s still very hard,
not seeing You across the table.Your eyes follow me.
I know You hear me.
“It’s not You, it’s me”,
as faulting lovers say.Your gaze never leaves me,
I can feel it
in the depths of my being.
I am never alone.You wait,
as I turn to trifles,
or beat down troublesome giants.
You dwell upon my last words,
feeling my joy or pain
through every season of my soul.Though my words can stop mid-sentence
or conversation cease,
still You know the whole.
With the patience of eternity, my God waits.Eventually, I turn back to You.
Your eyes sear my soul,
O, that my heart could return that gaze.On the best of days,
unless You bind me to You, I flit.
A thousand trumpets vie for my ear
and I am torn.New love has a magic,
erasing the world, and becoming all.
Re-ignite that flame in me
To shut out causes, fears and strife.Your Presence felt is strength and consolation,
Your tug is joy
and Your conversation sweetness.
If pain be the messenger
that draws me back to You,
so be it.
Better the torment of an earthly purgatory
than the foretaste of hell.If it seems I sit at our table alone,
the note of sadness betrays the truth.
I miss you and the missing is from You.
You beckon anew.Sup with me.
Dwell with me.
Gaze on me.
I am not alone.
My Christ is with me.By 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 to 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, pressing me
To Your great and 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.
©2010 Joann Nelander
Fortnight For Freedom
A call to prayer for our great nation by our bishops has gone forth. Now it is for the people to pray.
H/T USCCB
The fourteen days from June 21—the vigil of the Feasts of St. John Fisher and St. Thomas More—to July 4, Independence Day, are dedicated to this “fortnight for freedom”—a great hymn of prayer for our country. Our liturgical calendar celebrates a series of great martyrs who remained faithful in the face of persecution by political power—St. John Fisher and St. Thomas More, St. John the Baptist, SS. Peter and Paul, and the First Martyrs of the Church of Rome. Culminating on Independence Day, this special period of prayer, study, catechesis, and public action will emphasize both our Christian and American heritage of liberty. Dioceses and parishes around the country have scheduled special events that support a great national campaign of teaching and witness for religious liberty.
Love’s Return
Moved by Love, my Love,
How do I make return?
Struggles press, take hold of.
Moved by Love, my Love,
Power proffered from above
Too requisite to spurn.
Moved by Love, my Love,
How do I make return?Copyright Joann Nelander
(experimental triolet)
As an Orchid
As an Orchid
My Lord Jesus,
As my eyes open
On a new day,
And sleep gives way,
I find You beside me.As a lover,
You, have watched me sleep.
My stirrings,
During the long night,
Were covered
As with a blanket.Chasing dreams,
I did not notice You,
Lying there upon Your Cross,
Waiting to be lifted into place.Your forbearance frightens me.
What will it demand,
When dreams abandon me,
And leave me to Your Love.Will my “yes”
Cause You to be raised
And die for me
On yet another day?What You have done,
You are doing,
And still will do.
Such is the fearful Love
You waste on me.To Love, I am a flower
Like no other.
Like one orchid,
Blooming among millions of orchids
In dense worldly jungles,
Never to be beheld,
Yet ravishing in perfection.You cherish me,
As Your image,
Which the Beauty,
Growing in me,
Though unseen,
Will one day reveal.Yes; A thousand times, yes!
I will be your Orchid this day.
All days!
You, upon Your Cross,
Me, in the world,
But not of it,
Mysteriously bound together.Pick me!
Make of me a corsage,
One solitary bloom,
Graced beyond imaging.Press me, then,
Onto Your Father’s Breast
To wear in proclamation
Of Your Life,
Spent upon a Cross,
Bringing me to Life.As this day unfurls,
As a wave offering,
Remind me of the throne
I rest upon,
Worn as a treasure
Over our Father’s Heart.By Joann Nelander
Be Holy! 