O holy saints of God,
Help us to celebrate this day.
Bedeck our house in pure white lilies,
Picked by the hand of Love.
Such were the souls of Mary and Joseph,
As they journeyed forth
To live the Father’s Will,
As they kept faith.Bless the years that pass.
Bless the days that be.
Our youth God entwined,
Weaving gold out of straw,
Fashioning a cord that bound us ever close in dreams of love.O, Holy Love,
Your fiber of Being,
Imperceptible, yet alive,
Knit the garment of our marriage.
As we gifted each other
With our very lives
And lived the Promise.Taking pleasure in each other,
And the mystery You impart,
Mutual donation and happy hopes
Gave substance to our youthful reveries.
Soon, You delighted Your children with children
To sweeten the wine we sipped.You never waited on our understanding or perfection .
You built rather on duty and faith,
Married unto eternity.
Your sacrament enfleshed in our lives as grace,
Filled our days with laughter amid challenge,
Befriended us in friends ,
As a corsage of heart and healing.You opened the door of opportunity,
And we feared not to enter in.
Receiving in the womb,
Your joy and plenteous reward,
Covenant love lived despite our weakness.
Hope hanging like numberless leaves,
On trees the formed an arbor for our love.Yes, dear Saints, sing songs with us,
To welcome home the Promised Groom,
Who never left our side.
Make of this day a joyful shout,
A happy anniversary!By J0ann Nelander
Check out the scary stuff in verse at the Gooseberry Garden gone poetic!
Tag Archives: Religion and Spirituality
How Deep the Father’s Love for Us
H/T Joyce Devivre
HOW DEEP THE FATHER’S LOVE FOR US
How deep the Father’s love for us
How vast beyond all measure
That He should give His only Son
And make a wretch His treasure
How great the pain of searing loss
The Father turns His face away
As wounds which mar the Chosen One
Bring many sons to gloryBehold the man upon the cross
My sin upon His shoulders
Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice
Call out among the scoffers
It was my sin that held Him there
Until it was accomplished
His dying breath has brought me life
I know that it is finishedI will not boast in anything
No gifts, no power, no wisdom
But I will boast in Jesus Christ
His death and resurrection
Why should I gain from His reward
I cannot give an answer
But this I know with all my heart
His wounds have paid my ransomWhy should I gain from His reward
I cannot give an answer
But this I know with all my heart
His wounds have paid my ransom
His All For You
Wikipedia
Your Father built the world
With you in mind.
You needn’t be important
To be important.
God has made you so.
You are carved upon His hand;
A perfect fit!The Father’s desire for you,
Waits upon you.
The God of all the Universe
Halted by your will,
For without you
He won’t.When your world
Stands still,
Limbo silent, and bereft,
Think to move the Hand of God.“Who do you say I AM?”
When you can see it,
Say it!
Say it, so that the heavens hear you.
Say it, so the angels stop in flight.
Say it so that mountains move,
And flowers blossom.Christ’s first buds,
Then flowers in bloom,
As Father God
Sets the world in motion
And blossoms forth in you.Copyright © Joann Nelander
The Fall
Chains ethereal bind my soul
Confusion clouds the pathways of my reason
Who could have guessed the menace
It was over in a moment with hasty but firm decision.
Subtle flirtation turned a dance of dalliance.
Trojan welcomed without caution.
Grace dismissed with contemporary flair.Reality now comes in many colors
Shades of gray,
A balancing act to fit the season.
Nothing’s black or white,
Anymore.Who could have known the cost?
Who would have called it betrayal?
Yet, I had chosen.
I ignored the Voice,
All appetite,
And caressing desire.Somehow I knew
There would be a price to pay
But how it would feel,
And what it would be,
Floated in some mist,
Too easily brushed aside
With the feeling of shackles,
Weary old taboos;
So, Adam devoured the apple.Handle it, I could and would,
Just later…
Now, was for me.
Later, for regret.
A logical scheme.
It worked for me!The deed
And the darkness descended,
One following the other.
Night fell like a mantle on my shoulders.
Where the joy?
Where promised pleasure?
Where my once bright countenance.I lifted myself to myself,
Sad at the pillage
Visited upon my soul,
I am alone,
Alone, but for my thoughts,
Thoughts, that, too, accuse you.The world feels different today,
A bit more cloaked,
As with a secret,
But, I assure myself,
All’s well, the same.Waking in another Kingdom
I draw back the curtain:
Without, a sky stripped of it’s stars,
Within, only black,
No sun of clarity,
No heart of love.I can no longer trust
That dawn and morning light
Will follow in sure order.
Yet, somehow, I fear they might.
It must be me who changed?I lingered in this abyss,
Fearing the permanence of my loss.
No stigmatizing letter branded,
For the absence of shame,
But my wax had melted,
and molecules rearranged,
Hardening, misshapen.Drinking in the Truth,
I could not swallow
The gall of repentance.
Pride, like a master craftsmen,
Fashioned my demise
Tightening his chain about my heart.My life, my life,
It’s my life!
I raged at unseen angels.
‘Til falling back upon myself,
I licked my wounds.
I donned a mask of merriment.Then, one foot after the other,
I dressed for the world.
No one, I assured,
No one would notice
My fall from grace.Copyright Joann Nelander
A Letter By St. Bernadette Soubirou – Feast of Our Lady of Lourdes
From a letter by Saint Marie Bernadette Soubirous, virgin
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I had gone down one day with two other girls to the bank of the river Gave when suddenly I heard a kind of rustling sound. I turned my head toward the field by the side of the river but the trees seemed quite still and the noise was evidently not from them. Then I looked up and caught sight of the cave where I saw a lady wearing a lovely white dress with a bright belt. On top of each of her feet was a pale yellow rose, the same colour as her rosary beads.At this I rubbed my eyes, thinking I was seeing things, and I put my hands into the fold of my dress where my rosary was. I wanted to make the sign of the cross but for the life of me I couldn’t manage it and my hand just fell down. Then the lady made the sign of the cross herself and at the second attempt I managed to do the same, though my hands were trembling. Then I began to say the rosary while the lady let her beads slip through her fingers, without moving her lips. When I stopped saying the Hail Mary, she immediately vanished.I asked my two companions if they had noticed anything, but they said no. Of course they wanted to know what I was doing and I told them that I had seen a lady wearing a nice white dress, though I didn’t know who she was. I told them not to say anything about it, and they said I was silly to have anything to do with it. I said they were wrong and I came back next Sunday, feeling myself drawn to the place….The third time I went the lady spoke to me and asked me to come every day for fifteen days. I said I would and then she said that she wanted me to tell the priests to build a chapel there. She also told me to drink from the stream. I went to the Gave, the only stream I could see. Then she made me realise she was not speaking of the Gave and she indicated a little trickle of water close by. When I got to it I could only find a few drops, mostly mud. I cupped my hands to catch some liquid without success and then I started to scrape the ground. I managed to find a few drops of water but only at the fourth attempt was there a sufficient amount for any kind of drink. The lady then vanished and I went back home.I went back each day for two weeks and each time, except one Monday and one Friday, the lady appeared and told me to look for a stream and wash in it and to see that the priests build a chapel there. I must also pray, she said, for the conversion of sinners. I asked her many times what she meant by that, but she only smiled. Finally with outstretched arms and eyes looking up to heaven she told me she was the Immaculate Conception.During the two weeks she told me three secrets but I was not to speak about them to anyone and so far I have not.
All Our Love Must Be For God
From the treatise On Spiritual Perfection by Diadochus of Photice, bishop
All our love must be for GodNo one who is in love with himself is capable of loving God. The man who loves God is the one who mortifies his self-love for the sake of the immeasurable blessings of divine love. Such a man never seeks his own glory but only the glory of God. If a person loves himself he seeks his own glory, but the man who loves God loves the glory of his Creator. Anyone alive to the love of God can be recognized from the way he constantly strives to glorify him by fulfilling all his commandments and by delighting in his own abasement. Because of his great majesty it is fitting that God should receive glory, but if he hopes to win God’s favor it becomes man to be humble. If we possess this love for God, we too will rejoice in his glory as Saint John the Baptist did, and we shall never stop repeating: His fame must increase, but mine must diminish.
I know a man who, though lamenting his failure to love God as much as he desires, yet loves him so much that his soul burns with ceaseless longing for God to be glorified, and for his own complete effacement. This man has no feeling of self importance even when he receives praise. So deep is his desire to humble himself that he never even thinks of his own dignity. He fulfills his priestly duty by celebrating the Liturgy, but his intense love for God is an abyss that swallows up all consciousness of his high office. His humility makes him oblivious of any honor it might bring him, so that in his own estimation he is never anything but a useless servant. Because of his desire for self abasement, he regards himself as though degraded from his office. His example is one that we ourselves should follow by fleeing from all honor and glory for the sake of the immeasurable blessings of God’s love, for he has loved us so much!
Anyone who loves God in the depths of his heart has already been loved by God. In fact, the measure of a man’s love for God depends upon how deeply aware he is of God’s love for him. When this awareness is keen it makes whoever possesses it long to be enlightened by the divine light, and this longing is so intense that it seems to penetrate his very bones. He loses all consciousness of himself and is entirely transformed by the love of God.
Such a man lives in this life and at the same time does not live in it, for although he still inhabits his body, he is constantly leaving it in spirit because of the love that draws him toward God. Once the love of God has released him from self-love, the flame of divine love never ceases to burn in his heart and he remains united to God by an irresistible longing. As the Apostle says: If we are taken out of ourselves it is for the love of God; if we are brought back to our senses it is for your sake.
Be Holy! 