Out of Darkness

I AM WHO AM,
God beyond my grasp,
Outside of Time and Space,
How am I to know You?

Calling with the cry of a Babe,
You reveal Yourself,
To a people in darkness
That we may behold You.

You bring Light to my blindness.
I see in this Holy Infant,
“The Father and I are One.”,
“Whatever you do for one of the least,
You do for me.”

The heavy weight of Adam’s Sin
Is lifted as the Babe become Man,
Dies for the sons of Man.
You bring Salvation,
Good out of Evil.

I know You in believing.
I know You in repentance.
I know you in my deliverance,
And freedom to cry, “Abba”.

© 2016 Joann Nelander

Eyes of My Soul

O eyes of my soul,
Eyes of my spirit,
Eyes of my heart,
See!

See the glory revealed
In all creation.
See the Son
Hidden in the least
To the greatest.

Recognize the Christ,
Lord of all.
Lord over the earth
Lord over the sea
Lord raised above the heavens.

Enthrone Him, King,
King of your soul,
King of your spirit,
King of your heart.

As light illuminates,
See that you are a new creation.
See Christ, in this moment,
As in the breaking of the Bread.

Copyright 2013 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

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.

Let Me

Let me be the Star that guides.
Let me be the Voice crying in the wilderness.
Let me be the Brother that leads a brother.
Let me be the Mother bidding
“Do whatever He tells you.”

Let me be tears upon Your feet,
Let me be anointing oil
Let me be a cloak that hides your nakedness.
Let me be the prayer of the Blind Bartimaeus:
“Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.”

Let me pray with You in the garden
Let me draw a spiritual sword by Your Side.
Let me help you carry Your Cross.
Let me weep with You for the Fallen and the Lost,
Lamenting, “.. you would not be gathered.”

Let me feel with Mother Mary
Let me cry out like the Magdalen.
Let me, like the Centurion, recognize You in Your Dying.
Let me sit beside the Angel at Your Tomb.
“He has risen, He is not here”

By Joann Nelander

God Has Plans for You

God is counting on you.
God’s plan for the Universe includes you.
God’s plan for History includes you.
God’s plan of Salvation includes you.
God planned you.
You count!

Catch God’s vision.
When you are down,
Ask God, what’s up?
Plans can go wrong
But God is on track.
Are you?

Be faithful.
Little choices add up.
The ordinary is grace-filled opportunity.
That is the stuff of Saints

©2011 Joann Nelaneder

OCEAN OF GRACE

By the gracious gift of God.
You, the Invited,
Receive His Peace.
Heartbeat by heartbeat,
Breath by breath,
In each instant,
His Will comes to you,
The Chosen,
To freely choose.

Remain His by faith.
Living in His favor,
A rain of blessing falls,
To water your being,
And penetrate the ground
On which, and in which,
You stand.

You give consent,
And desire in Love,
And as a plentiful valley,
Moment by moment.
Rooted in the holy,
Sanctified by the Sanctifier,
Life and abundance of fruit,
Are multiplied in you,
And grown up around you,

Grace upon grace,
Help, healing and holiness,
Flow in abundance.
From the springing up,
To the watering flow,
Then to rush,
As to the waiting arms a beloved,
Presuming bath and baptism,
To the ingathering of rivers,
In consecration and convergence,
Love returns to the Ocean
Of its Source.

As a homecoming,
Meandering streams
Cut courses through Time.
The many become seas
To, at long last, mingle
In the Mighty Mind,
And Minder of our souls.

copyright 2014 Joann Nelander

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