Move the Hands of God by Prayer

In the silence God invites without words.
My prayers are often noisy affairs
Filled with faces, memories, love
And feelings of sorrow. 

I am often overwhelmed
And moved to tears
By the poignancy of a fleeting thought.

My heart tells me
That what seems insignificant
Holds a treasure. 

God’s gifts often come in disguise
Like the beggar at the door
Who is Christ.
 
The Spirit says minister
Here in this place, at this time;
Reach back through the years
To move the hand of God
By prayer.

I am with God,
The Lord of All,
Including Time. 
I may have missed or misused
Moments to do good,
But God reigns in Eternity,
As present in the Past
As He is in my heartbeat. 

God’s hands are not tied
By the flow of Time. 
He is there
And here
And Eternal Now. 

My lowly prayer,
Clothed in The Name,
Breaks down the wall that stands
Between my need or regret, and blessing. 
Like the little donkey that carried the King of Kings,
My humble prayer
Sets in motion
The flow of grace to love,
To heal, to mend,
To restore and bless anew.

Joann Nelander

To Your Silence

Here I am Lord
I have brought the world and my day with me
What a motley crew arrayed before You
But not in vain.

We come with a clatter
My noise, our noise,
To the Silence.
The deafening roar
To the hallowed stillness.

Whisper in the chamber of our meeting
Where we tent with You,
Hope for the dying,
Faith to the listening,
Love to the willing.

Move the Hands of God by Prayer

In the silence God invites without words.  My prayers are often noisy affairs filled with faces, memories, love and feelings of sorrow.  I am often overwhelmed and moved to tears by the poignancy of a fleeting thought. My heart tells me that what seems insignificant holds a treasure.  God’s gifts often come in disguise like the beggar at the door who is Christ.  The Spirit says minister here in this place at this time; reach back through the years to move the hand of God by prayer.

I am with God, the Lord of All, including Time.  I may have missed or misused moments to do good, but God reigns in Eternity, as present in the Past as He is in my heartbeat.  God’s hands are not tied by the flow of Time.  He is there and here and Eternal Now.  My lowly prayer, clothed in The Name, breaks down the wall that stands between my need or regret, and blessing.  Like the little donkey that carried the King of Kings, my humble prayer sets in motion the flow of grace to love, to heal, to mend, to restore and bless anew.

Joann Nelander

Contemplative Prayer is Silence

From the Catechism of the Catholic Church: 

 2717    Contemplative prayer is silence, the “symbol of the world to come”12 or “silent love.”13 Words in this kind of prayer are not speeches; they are like kindling that feeds the fire of love. In this silence, unbearable to the “outer” man, the Father speaks to us his incarnate Word, who suffered, died, and rose; in this silence the Spirit of adoption enables us to share in the prayer of Jesus. (533498)

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Move the Hands of God by Prayer

In the silence God invites without words.  My prayers are often noisy affairs filled with faces, memories, love and feelings of sorrow.  I am often overwhelmed and moved to tears by the poignancy of a fleeting thought. My heart tells me that what seems insignificant holds a treasure.  God’s gifts often come in disguise like the beggar at the door who is Christ.  The Spirit says minister here in this place at this time; reach back through the years to move the hand of God by prayer.

I am with God, the Lord of All, including Time.  I may have missed or misused moments to do good, but God reigns in Eternity, as present in the Past as He is in my heartbeat.  God’s hands are not tied by the flow of Time.  He is there and here and Eternal Now.  My lowly prayer, clothed in The Name, breaks down the wall that stands between my need or regret, and blessing.  Like the little donkey that carried the King of Kings, my humble prayer sets in motion the flow of grace to love, to heal, to mend, to restore and bless anew.

Joann Nelander

All Chatter

How can I be an emptiness that beckons You enter,

if all I am is chatter?

Give my Your silence, Your “Be still,”

that You may come to me.