This Is For Me

The Crucifixion of Christ by Simon Vouet

Image via Wikipedia

They choose nails to fix You to the Tree of Life, the witness of Your Death.

It was Love that drew You to that Hour, that thrice holy Hour,

Love, not nails, that held You fast, upon the beam.

Your Father’s Will was the cord that bound and secured You,
Heart and Soul, Your Undivided All.

You choose this consummation, devoid of earthly pleasure,
Your Passion, the counter and all consuming Fire, that ravages Sin,
The Sin of our earthly passions,
That spends our lives in unholy rebellion.

When all others fled for want of Godly self-possession,
You mounted Your Cross in peace and resignation.

This throne of suffering and sovereignty held dominion
Over the underworld and all it’s gods.

Your edict, a request: “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

It is Love that draws You to this Hour, this thrice holy Hour,

Love, not nails, that weds me, in freedom and abandonment, to Your All Holy Heart.

By Joann Nelander

Perfected Through the Cross

I would like to offer You the perfect,
But all I have is me.
So, here I am,
Sorrowful, in all my misery.

In hope I approach You,
Through the gaping wound in Your Side,
Through which flowed Your Mercy,
Your Final Word.

Wash me, Son of God,
In that endless river,
Your Life poured out
Throughout Time.

I stand, I kneel,
Then prostrate
At Your Cross,
I wait to receive You.

You are taken down,
And placed in Mary’s arms,
It is in her arms,
I find You.

There with You,
I am held fast,
Giving and receiving,
The Love You have won for Me.

By Joann Nelander

Perfected Through the Cross

“Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, the sinner”

I would like to offer You the perfect,
But all I have is me.
So, here I am,
Sorrowful, in all my misery.

In hope I approach You,
Through the gaping wound in Your Side,
Through which flowed Your Mercy,
Your Final Word.

Wash me, Son of God,
In that endless river,
Your Life poured out
Throughout Time.

I stand, I kneel,
Then prostrate
At Your Cross,
I wait to receive You.

You are taken down,
And placed in Mary’s arms,
It is in her arms,
I find You.

There with You,
I am held fast,
Giving and receiving,
The Love You have won for Me.

By Joann Nelander

Perfected Through the Cross

I would like to offer You the perfect,
But all I have is me.
So, here I am,
Sorrowful, in all my misery.

In hope I approach You,
Through the gaping wound in Your Side,
Through which flowed Your Mercy,
Your Final Word.

Wash me, Son of God,
In that endless river,
Your Life poured out
Throughout Time.

I stand, I kneel,
Then prostrate
At Your Cross,
I wait to receive You.

You are taken down,
And placed in Mary’s arms,
It is in her arms,
I find You.

There with You,
I am held fast,
Giving and receiving,
The Love You have won for Me.

By Joann Nelander

Making a Palm Cross

or

or for the ambitious, try it in glass!

IF AND WHEN

My dearest Heart,
If I but had pure vision
Of Your Holiness,
My soul would take wing,
To break the hold
And travesty accursed,
Which chains me here,
Forever, casting off,
The gravity of Sin.

Hold, before my eyes,
The Christ upon the Cross,
That Longinus beheld,
That I, too, might soar to Your Side,
And enter there that Wound,
Which You love best,
That holy invitation,
That bids me "enter here".

No accident of fate,
That sword that pierced Your Heart
But providential lance of Holy Love,
That freed, fortuitous,
The wellspring of Salvation.

The sight of Love dying,
And undying,
Crosses the divide of Heaven and Hell,
To bathe with healing,
My eyes, as Raphael did Tobit.
And causes me to say with blind Bartimaeus,
In compassionate encounter,
"Lord, that I might see."

Love bathes me, as Mother,
At the first sign of my distress,
Before my disbelief of Mercy
Could raise objection
To Your eternal Kindness.

In the sunrise of the First Morn
Of New Day,
I see You, my sweetest Heart,
Resplendent, yet still pierced.

O, my Resurrected Lord,
Promise of my victory,
I adore with Seraphic praise,
And taking wing,
I rise with Thee.