The Screwtape Letters (Narrated by John Cleese)

God’s Gracious Gift

I am Your gift to me.
You are My Eucharistic Lord,
Coming as food,
For my spirit,
For my soul,
For my body.
Your Life feeds my life.

Your Spirit supplies a holy Breath
To fill me and pervade my very being.
Your Father awaits my return,
Rising in You after each fall
He embraces me as He embraces You,
And weaves my future in a unity of Trinity,
Making of me a gift to the world about me.

Jesus, gift of the Father,
Gift me in Your Spirit,
To live with You the divine Life of God.
You, my Eucharist,
I offer the Father in perpetual thanksgiving.

©2016 Joann Nelander

Father Forever

Cords of sorrow draw me.
I am witness to the plight,
Man become beast,
Without wisdom or wit,
Licking his own blood,
Hungry, harrowed,
Stunned in horror.

The knots of revenge entangle,
Cry for evermore blood,
Ever more abasement,
Ever more widows,
Ever more orphans,
Ever more refuse and waste.

A crying child becomes hundreds,
Then thousands,
Then millions,
Left to wander,
Left to dissipate and hate.

Vengeance is sweeter than food,
To one who chooses to live
Without Love,
Without Light,
Without the Holy and the True,
For such is the abode of Sin,
And many the roads
Leading to its gate.

Bestial brutality,
Raging insanity,
Now reigns the malignant.
The disconsolate refuse all solace,
Wounds of the heart,
Wounds of the mind,
Wounds of the body of Man.

Look to the high mountain,
Eyes to the heavens,
Wake the long dead,
Who await the promised Banquet,
Those, who now know,
They are one Family of Man,
Divested of tribal allegiance,
Awaiting the One,
And coming, King.

Offer a sacrifice of prayer.
Pour forth the balm of Gilead.
Speak, in the tongue of angels,
The comfort of peoples,
Hope in the Darkness.

Humanity’s ties are stronger than its sins,
More numerous than the cords
That draw it down in the Dark Night.
For its One God
Is Father Forever.

by Joann Nelander

 

“Father forgive them they know not what they do.”

Heart of Love

Write my love upon my heart
That I might sign it with my life’s blood,
Coursing through its chambers,
Rushing to serve and sing to You.

With every beat,
With every pulsation,
Carry my persuasions to the ends of my being,
Returning as tides to touch anew Your Heart,
United in Spirit,
Kissing each movement and moment,
As I spread myself upon Your hidden shores,
To embrace and race,
In hurried pulse to do You Will
As my own,
Reaching for eternity.

With a kiss upon the brow
Crown all my moments
With the fiat I proffer
In Your ever Present Now.

Heart of Love,
Be in me.
Sighed and signed,
Joann

Dear Reader,
Make my prayer your prayer,
By placing it beside mine,
And together,
We shall love Him best.

Copyright 2016 Joann Nelander

The Least and the Last,

May I, the least and the last,
Who labor in Your vineyard,
None the less, bear fruit,
One hundred fold.

I dare such dreams,
And bear such hope,
For though, the meanest,
And the smallest,
Saints and angels attend me,
Together, we labor for Your glory.

Some know You explicitly,
While others simply wonder at Your Creation,
Not realizing that Creation waits on tiptoe,
Willing Your Will.

May all who implicitly perceive You darkly,
Know You in the Light of Jesus, Your Son,
The First Born of Your Love,
That even the least and the last,
May rejoice at Your Coming to claim Your own.

© 2016 Joann Nelander

All Creation waits on tiptoe for the revelation of the sons of God. (Rom. 8:19)

With Veronica

With Veronica,
I want to bathe Your Wounds.
Time and place are no obstacle.
You, in eternity, possess all.
Possess my heart,
And my poor intentions,
Render them pure and holy.

Wiping the spittle from Your Adorable Face,
I weep at Your disfigurement at the hands of Man.
I, in my time and turn, have looked away.
Here, with You, in prayer,
I turn back,
That my present ministries
May touch Your Body,
Alive, suffering in purgation,
Battling with the help of Heaven on Earth,
And triumphant with our Father in glory.

Mysteriously, my wounds,
And warts are healed,
My misery comprehended and mended,
By Your merciful gaze,
My shame surrendered,
And supplanted,
With your look of Love.

With Veronica,
I reach out,
Only to receive back,
My dignity,
I stoop,
To rise with You,
My Hope,
True Image of Our Father’s Love.

©2015 Joann Nelander

 

* The Latin meaning of the name Veronica is “True Image” (vera icon)

Memories Eternal – a Prayer

May I live with Mary in my heart this day.
May her thoughts,
And precious memories of You, dear Jesus,
Resound in my mind and fill my soul,
That even Angels in flight,
And the Triumphant in Heaven,
Stop to listen and love with me.
Amen