You, by Your Presence, O Lord,
Are Light to my darkness.
You are the kiss upon my brow,
The oil upon my head,
The arms of sweet embrace,
The banner over my heart.
You, All Love,
Bless this child of Your magnificent
And magnanimous Mercy.
Day by day.
I find You all about me.
Flowers and fields,
Spread before me
As a welcoming blanket.
Come rest awhile, You invite.
I come and I delight.
"She was baptized, with her household" (Acts 16:15). The Philippian jailer whom Paul and Silas had converted to the faith was baptized that night along with his household. We are told that "the same hour of the night . . . he was baptized, with all his family" (Acts 16:33). And in his greetings to the Corinthians, Paul recalled that, "I did baptize also the household of Stephanas" (1 Cor. 1:16).
No one would argue
That I exist
And live this day
On Earth.
Yet, I know
That I am with You.
Here in this place
At this Time,
I breathe Heaven’s air
As I pray
"Come Holy Spirit"
And You come,
Bringing Heaven with You
To dwell in the land
You make Your own
And, by grace, call holy.
Here, love and truth meet,
Justice and peace kiss.
Am I not caught
In this embrace?
©2012 Joann Nelander
O Man, believe
That the Virgin did conceive
Her God and mine
And happily thine.©2013 Joann Nelander
I love You, Lord. You embrace me in our communion of Eucharist. I believe in Your love for the sinner. I am that sinner. You come to me. I am empty and poor, yet You make my poverty Your paradise. Here I bring to You all You have given me.
Behold Your streaming waters tumbling over my rocky ground. Your light penetrates my depths; the caverns of my heart yield their darkness to You, O Holy Sun! Sit here beside me in silence, as praise becomes an uncontainable river within me. Flow from my humble abode to water Your thirsting world without. Delight, O Lord, at the crashing thunder as majestic waves rise before You in a crescendo of thanksgiving, finally pounding down upon the shore of my unworthiness. They ebb and flow and gather strength as I remember Your Mercies. All You have given me, I give now with gratitude.
Eagles dance in the air above our heads, grasping as claws hold fast, spinning in wedded bliss; their flight a symbol of our holy love.
Joann Nelander
My Shalom, My Shalom,
Reigning over the waters,
Conquering the watery depths,
Making clear,
Revealing by discernment
Benefactor or maleficence.
Quieted soul,
Ever vigil heart,
Desirous of My Holy Body,
Gazing through the fiery flame
Serene against the tumult,
Drinking from the Chalice of My Blood,
Covenanted through my Sacred Cross,
Lifted high above the world,
Rest in Me,
As I, Myself, pass as flaming brazier,
Between the broken pieces of your life.
My Shalom, My Shalom,
I call you
By My All Holy Name,
To dwell secure in Love.
Cost counted, chosen,
And placed in the balance.
Infinity pays the price
And tips the scale of Life to
Favor a son of God.
©2012. Joann Nelander
Come Wind of the Spirit.
O Holiness, fill my sails
That we may traverse the oceans,
And laugh at the power of the seas.
Set my course
According to the plan of the Father,
Brought to fruition in the Son,
Who purifies the many waters.
©2013 Joann Nelander All rights reserved
Why apart?
From the in-gathering, all embracing Mother Church you flee,
To remain apart all the while,
Calling and yearning for your God.You flee and I run after you,
Pursuing you at every turn,
As I reach and you pull your hand away.
Why not stay?
My Body yearns for you.
My members long to know you.I wait upon your prayers
With angels ready to dispatch.
O, Pardoned Soul,
You seek your God in myriad ways,
I am here, wedded to My Bride,
Always at her side,
Promised never to depart.
You hold yourself apart.You’ve built a chapel in your heart
For others that play God,
I call and draw you by Love
Within the chapel of your heart.You sigh as I tug
At heart strings tight and taunt.
You resist Me for fear they’ll break.
I woo, I’m told to wait.
You say you are not ready
For Love’s music.“Measure me Your Love,” you say.
“Give comfort, strength and sure supply,
But do not on my ‘Yes’ rely.”Perhaps the Bride, the Church,
Who bears My Word forth
Unto all centuries,
Has words you n’er obey,
In dread fear of the “ought”
You can not bear.You will your will be done on earth
And choose to judge all heaven.
You want only love’s first glance,
The sweet embrace
And kiss upon the cheek,
Nothing too dear, nothing too deep.
It seems a bitter end,
To lose yourself in giving all.O Measured One.
You know Love comes with a Cross,
A Cross you fear to carry.
You choose to stay apart
And skirt the Cross.Alas, the world without has crosses, too.
They may come disguised in promised delight,
But soon you’ll drag that empty dream uphill.How long one longs
And labors longingly
And all alone
Beneath the weight
Of vanities profane,
I do not say.
I only await a cry, a plea, A glance of recognition.
When our eyes meet, then our hearts meet;
At long last your leap into the arms
Of One Who grasps you in your fall.Be mine as Church joined to Husband.
At last the Lord of All
Can leap the walls you’ve built about yourself
To know you now
Within His Sacred Heart,
Bearing your cross in His,
Making all things new
And all your burdens light.
Count now as joy life
Without measure.Fear not my Church.
She is My Spouse,
My very Body;
I, the Head.I woo and wait,
Now, as Groom upon the altar.
It is for you
To give yourself away.by Joann Nelander
God has created me to do some definite service. God has committed some work to
me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission—I am a link in a
chain, a bond of connection between persons. I have not been created for naught. I
shall do good. I shall do God’s work. I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth
in my own place, while not intending it, if I do but keep the commandments.Therefore I will trust in God. Whatever, wherever I am, I can never be thrown away.
If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve God; in perplexity, my perplexity may serve
God; if I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve God. God does nothing in vain, but
knows what all is about.
~ John Henry Newman
Robed in splendor,
Wrapped in might,
Clothed in a mantle of power,
Holy Majesty, now come Your Hour.
Mercy inclining
Embracing spirit poor,
Abundance kissing
With generous grace.
Common ground
Of God’s own Holiness,
Love’s living bridge
Spanning the breech.
All are called.
Please all come
To live the revelation
Of the Holy Son.
© Joann Nelander 2013
All rights reserved
Come Wind of the Spirit.
O Holiness, fill my sails
That we may traverse the oceans,
And laugh at the power of the seas.
Set my course
According to the plan of the Father,
Brought to fruition in the Son,
Who purifies the many waters.
©2013 Joann Nelander All rights reserved
No one would argue
That I exist
And live this day
On Earth.
Yet, I know
That I am with You.
Here in this place
At this Time,
I breathe Heaven’s air
As I pray
"Come Holy Spirit"
And You come,
Bringing Heaven with You
To dwell in the land
You make Your own
And, by grace, call holy.
Here, love and truth meet,
Justice and peace kiss.
Am I not caught
In this embrace?
©2012 Joann Nelander
This painting is so consoling, I just have to share it again since Lent brings us closer to our Savior. He comes to save Fallen Man, and with such a gentle hand.
“Virgin Mary Consoles Eve”
Crayon and pencil by Sr. Grace Remington, OCSO
Copyright 2005, Sisters of the Mississippi Abbey
Mother Eve, waiting long,
Your bones resting in the earth,
At Adam’s side,
From which you were taken,
Waiting, waiting for the Woman.Sustained in weary life by a Promise.
Enduring the grave,
Counting the centuries,
Waiting for Good News.
The Virgin is with Child. Rejoice!©2011 Joann Nelander All rights reserved
I love You, Lord.
You embrace me
In our communion of Eucharist.
I believe in Your love for the sinner.
I am that sinner.
You come to me.
I am empty and poor,
Yet, You make my poverty Your paradise.
Here I bring to You
All You have given me.
Behold Your streaming waters
Tumbling over my rocky ground.
Your light penetrates my depths,
The caverns of my heart
Yield their darkness
To You, O Holy Sun!
Sit here beside me in the silence,
As praise becomes
An uncontainable river within me.
Flow from my humble abode
To water Your thirsting world without.
Delight, O Lord,
As the crashing thunder
Of majestic waves
Rise before You
In a crescendo of thanksgiving,
Finally pounding down
Upon the shore of my unworthiness.
They ebb and flow
And gather strength
As I remember Your Mercies.
All You have given me,
I receive now in humble gratitude.
By Joann Nelander
LOST WORKS
How is it, my dear brethren, that so few Christians behave with one end only in view — to please God? Here is the reason, pure and simple. It is just that the vast majority of Christians are enveloped in the most shocking ignorance, so that, humanly speaking, they really do the very best they can.
The result is that if you were to compare their intentions with those of pagans, you would not find any difference. Ah, dear Lord, how many good works are lost for Heaven! Others who are a little better informed are interested only in the esteem of their fellow men, and they try to dissemble as much as they can: their exterior seems good, while interiorly they are filled with duplicity and evil. Yes, my dear brethren, we shall see at the Judgment that the largest section of Christians practiced a religion of whim or caprice only — that is to say, the greatest number of them practiced their religion merely from motives of routine, and very few sought God alone in what they did.
My Shalom, My Shalom,
Reigning over the waters,
Conquering the watery depths,
Making clear,
Revealing by discernment
Benefactor or maleficence.
Quieted soul,
Ever vigilant heart,
Desirous of My Holy Booty,
Gazing through the fiery flame
Serene against the tumult,
Drinking from the Chalice of My Blood,
Covenanted through my Sacred Cross,
Lifted high above the world
As I, Myself, pass as flaming brazier,
Between the broken pieces of your life.
My Shalom, My Shalom,
I call you
By My All Holy Name,
To dwell secure in Love.
Cost counted, chosen,
And placed in the balance.
Infinity pays the price
And tips the scale of Life to
Favor a son of God Most High.
Copyright 2012. Joann Nelander
Rejoice!
Give me, God,
This glad rejoicing.
I am like a beggar at the gate.
My rags declare my need.
My knock trumpets my desire.
Your courts are full
Of plentiful redemption.
Wine and the merriment
Of the forgiven,
Invite my humble footsteps.
Although I bring myself
To Your threshold,
I cannot enter in,
For Sin is an effrontery,
An open assault on Your Majesty.
All awaits Your mercy.
Heaven is silent before You.
Tears are now my only arraignment
The voice of Your messenger
The only hope in my wilderness.
The King, Himself,
Rises from His throne.
Crowns are cast down at His feet.
As the sun shines from His Being,
Mercy rays meet my eyes,
And melt my heart.
He draws near.
His hand is at the Gate
To let in the beggar and the multitude,
For I am not alone.
The nations,
In long suffering and sorrow,
Kneel with me.
He approaches.
He is near.
Wedding garments in place of our polluted rags,
Rings and sandals for prodigal feet.
He comes,
He comes mid glad rejoicing.
We need wait but a moment.
The Virgin is with Child,
And He has left His throne
To succor the poor of all the earth.
By Joann Nelander
From the book of the prophet Isaiah
19:16-24
The future conversion of Egypt and Assyria
On that day the Egyptians shall be like women, trembling with fear, because of the Lord of hosts shaking his fist at them. And the land of Judah shall be a terror to the Egyptians. Every time they remember Judah, they shall stand in dread because of the plan which the Lord of hosts has in mind for them.
On that day there shall be five cities in the land of Egypt speaking the language of Canaan and swearing by the Lord of hosts; one shall be called “City of the Sun.”
On that day there shall be an altar to the Lord in the land of Egypt, and a sacred pillar to the Lord near the boundary. It shall be a sign and a witness to the Lord of hosts in the land of Egypt, when they cry out to the Lord against their oppressors, and he sends them a savior to defend and deliver them. The Lord shall make himself known to Egypt, and the Egyptians shall know the Lord in that day; they shall offer sacrifices and oblations, and fulfill the vows they make to the Lord. Although the Lord shall smite Egypt severely, he shall heal them; they shall turn to the Lord and he shall be won over and heal them.
On that day there shall be a highway from Egypt to Assyria; the Assyrians shall enter Egypt, and the Egyptians enter Assyria, and Egypt shall serve Assyria.
On that day Israel shall be a third party with Egypt and Assyria, a blessing in the midst of the land, when the Lord of hosts blesses it: “Blessed be my people Egypt, and the work of my hands Assyria, and my inheritance, Israel.”
It’s time once again to join the Catholic bloggers at Sunday Snippets – A Catholic Carnival, hosted by RAnn of This, That and the Other Thing fame. Read, enjoy and join the fun by sharing your posts, RAnn shows you the ropes here.
Here are my snippets :
RAnn of This,That and the Other Thing hosts Sunday Snippets — A Catholic Carnival
Join us or just check out our posts. This is a great way to share your posts from the past week.
Here are my snippets from the week:
RAnn of This,That and the Other Thing hosts Sunday Snippets — A Catholic Carnival
Join us or just check out our posts. This is a great way to share your posts from the past week.
Here are my snippets from the week:
RAnn of This,That and the Other Thing hosts Sunday Snippets — A Catholic Carnival
Join us or just check out our posts. This is a great way to share your posts from the past week.
Here are my snippets from the week:
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.
Why apart? From the in-gathering, all embracing Mother Church you flee, to remain apart all the while, calling and yearning for your God. You flee and I run after you, pursuing you at every turn, and twist and fall. I reach and you pull your hand away. Why not stay? My Body yearns for you. My members long to know you.
I wait upon your prayers with angels ready to dispatch.
O, Pardoned Soul, you seek your God in myriad ways, I am here, wedded to My Bride, always at her side. promised never to depart. You hold yourself apart.You’ve built a chapel in your heart for others that play God,
I call and draw you by Love within the chapel of your heart.
You sigh as I tug at heart strings tight and taunt. You resist Me for fear they’ll break. I woo, I’m told to wait. You say you are not ready for Love’s music.“Measure me Your Love,” you say. “Give comfort, strength and sure supply, but do not on my ‘Yes’ rely.”
Perhaps the Bride, the Church, who bears My Word forth unto all centuries, has words you n’er obey, in dread fear of the “ought” you can not bear. You will your will be done on earth and choose to judge all heaven. You want only love’s first glance, the sweet embrace and kiss upon the cheek, nothing too dear, nothing too deep. It seems a bitter end, to lose yourself in giving all, O Measured One.
You know Love comes with a Cross, a Cross you fear to carry. You choose to stay apart and skirt the Cross. Alas, the world without has crosses, too. They may come disguised in promised delight, but soon you’ll drag that empty dream uphill. How long one longs and labors longingly and all alone beneath the weight of vanities profane, I do not say. I only await a cry, a plea, glance of recognition. When our eyes meet, then our hearts meet; at long last your leap into the arms of One Who grasps you in your fall.
Be mine as Church joined to Husband. At last the Lord of All can leap the walls you’ve built about yourself to know you now within His Sacred Heart, bearing your cross in His,making all things new and all your burdens light. Count now as joy life without measure.
Fear not my Church. She is My Spouse, My very Body; I ,the Head.
I woo and wait, now, as Groom upon the altar. You must give yourself away.
by Joann Nelander
An instruction by St Vincent of Lerins
The Development of Doctrine Is there to be no development of religion in the Church of Christ? Certainly, there is to be development and on the largest scale.Who can be so grudging to men, so full of hate for God, as to try to prevent it? But it must truly be development of the faith, not alteration of the faith. Development means that each thing expands to be itself, while alteration means that a thing is changed from one thing into another.The understanding, knowledge and wisdom of one and all, of individuals as well as of the whole Church, ought then to make great and vigorous progress with the passing of the ages and the centuries, but only along its own line of development, that is, with the same doctrine, the same meaning and the same import.The religion of souls should follow the law of development of bodies. Though bodies develop and unfold their component parts with the passing of the years, they always remain what they were. There is a great difference between the flower of childhood and the maturity of age, but those who become old are the very same people who were once young. Though the condition and appearance of one and the same individual may change, it is one and the same nature, one and the same person.The tiny members of unweaned children and the grown members of young men are still the same members. Men have the same number of limbs as children. Whatever develops at a later age was already present in seminal form; there is nothing new in old age that was not already latent in childhood.There is no doubt, then, that the legitimate and correct rule of development, the established and wonderful order of growth, is this: in older people the fullness of years always brings to completion those members and forms that the wisdom of the Creator fashioned beforehand in their earlier years.If, however, the human form were to turn into some shape that did not belong to its own nature, or even if something were added to the sum of its members or subtracted from it, the whole body would necessarily perish or become grotesque or at least be enfeebled. In the same way, the doctrine of the Christian religion should properly follow these laws of development, that is, by becoming firmer over the years, more ample in the course of time, more exalted as it advances in age.In ancient times our ancestors sowed the good seed in the harvest field of the Church. It would be very wrong and unfitting if we, their descendants, were to reap, not the genuine wheat of truth but the intrusive growth of error.On the contrary, what is right and fitting is this: there should be no inconsistency between first and last, but we should reap true doctrine from the growth of true teaching, so that when, in the course of time, those first sowings yield an increase it may flourish and be tended in our day also.
“relied on an extensive study of early Church Fathers in tracing the elaboration or development of doctrine which he argued was in some way implicitly present in the Divine Revelation in Sacred Scripture and Tradition which was present from the beginnings of the Church.” (Wikipedia)
Listen to this prayed on Divine Office. org as part of Morning prayer on the Memorial of Our Lady of the Rosary in Grego rian Tone 4, setting byPaul Grossung performed by Kathleen Lundquiest here:
Mary the Dawn, Christ the Perfect Day;
Mary the Gate, Christ the Heav’nly Way!
Mary the Root, Christ the Mystic Vine;
Mary the Grape, Christ the Sacred Wine!
Mary the Wheat-sheaf, Christ the Living Bread;
Mary the Rose-Tree, Christ the Rose Blood-red!
Mary the Font, Christ the Cleansing Flood;
Mary the Chalice, Christ the Saving Blood!
Mary the Temple, Christ the Temple’s Lord;
Mary the Shrine, Christ the God adored!
Mary the Beacon, Christ the Haven’s Rest;
Mary the Mirror, Christ the Vision Blest!
Mary the Mother, Christ the Mother’s Son.
Both ever blest while endless ages run.
Amen.
Daily Mail: “This was much more successful than the Roman Catholic hierarchy had dared to hope.”
This video commentary from Whispers in the Loggia’s blogger Rocco Palmo.
Image by kelsey_lovefusionphoto via Flickr
From a sermon On Pastors by Saint Augustine, bishop:
The river of God is brimming with water. You have provided their food, for this is your way of preparing them. There can be no doubt about the river referred to, for the prophet says: There is a river whose streams gladden the city of God; and in the gospel the Lord himself says: Streams of living water welling up to eternal life will flow from the heart of anyone who drinks the water I shall give him. He was speaking of the Holy Spirit, whom those who believed in him were to receive. The river of God is brimming with water; that is to say, we are inundated by the gifts of the Holy Spirit and from that fountain of life the river of God pours into us in full flood.
We also have food prepared for us. And who is this food? It is he in whom we are prepared for life with God, for by receiving his holy body we receive a place in the communion of his holy body. This is what is meant by the words of the psalm: You have provided their food, for this is your way of preparing them. For as well as refreshing us now, that food also prepares us for the life to come.
We who have been reborn through the sacrament of baptism experience intense joy when we feel within us the first stirrings of the Holy Spirit. We begin to have an insight into the mysteries of faith, we are able to prophesy and to speak with wisdom. We become steadfast in hope and receive the gift of healing. Demons are made subject to our authority. These gifts enter us like a gentle rain, and once having done so, little by little, they bring forth fruit in abundance.
Into Stillness 