Loving You

I am with you,
As One Who has always loved you,
Loving you as you began your life’s journey
To the kingdom of Heaven,
Your true home,
Loving you all the days I have appointed you.
Loving you unto dying and your death,
Loving you as the breath of life.

I have played upon the strings of your heart,
So that you would hear My music,
Even midst dissimilitude and dissonance.
Let not the unbelieving of the world,
Let not discordance and strife of flesh,
Let not the deceiver of Men,
Draw a curtain before your eyes.

Fix the gaze of your soul upon Me,
Here in your heart,
I reign, holy and at rest,
Upon the throne
At the center of your being.

Do Me homage
As you arise at the break of day.
Bow before Me
With the rising of each sun.
Dance with Me,
Following My lead.
Cry with Me in the sorrowing.
Plead for sinners in their fall.

Lend the hand of prayer
To uphold the weak and weary.
You journey as one
In the One Who is All Love.

Peace, My child.
Peace and refreshment,
Here at my altar.
I polish and perfect you,
That you may be
A monstrance of humility,
Fading from prominence,
As I send out my splendor
As grace and blessing.

All is gift to the one
Who receives with the seasons,
Yielding to the winds that blow upon the soul,
Welcoming the water of spring rains,
And the summer torrents,
Allowing blankets of snow
To still you in repose,
Awaiting new life, My Life.

© 2015 Joann Nelander

LONGINUS, SOLDIER SAINT

Longinus,
You, who beheld Life,
As your Savior
Hung between Heaven and Earth,
Dying on His Cross,
Your heart came alive
At the sight of the Mother’s agony.

The thrust of your spear
Lanced the heart of the Christ
And pierced your own
To let Him enter,
He, who would henceforth,
Possess you in contemplation.

His blood, falling upon weak and worldly eyes,,
Touched in you, the pagan,
Opening eyes blind to the things of God,
With the sight of the Holy.

Your life became a contemplation
Of the Dying and the Rising,
Did you fall into a sleep,
As the angels descended to roll away the stone?
Did premonitions of sacred mystery stir you,
Wakening the soldier witness soul,
To serve not merely an emperor,
But True God?

The Cassius of the Crucifixion
Died, only to open his eyes in faith,
And live, henceforth a new man,
With a story of Blood and Water,
And New Life,

copyright 2014 Joann Nelander

"Democracy Without God?" by George Weigel

I Am

 

Your grandeur overwhelms me.
You lavish Your splendor,
Even on the ordinary,
Like grass upon the meadow,
And tears welling from the heart.

Where can I look that You are not?
Even the fallow field,
Awaits another day,
As a virgin in repose,
Seeing, in needful desire,
A time of promise and plenty.

You are written on our hearts.
We perceive You near,
Though hidden.
Terrible and tender,
You are unknowable,
Unless You give the means of knowing.

The universe though draped
In the garb of galactic might and majesty,
Does not know that it is.
Yet, the sentient child
Plays at Your side.

Men, too busy,
Brush by You on the street.
While the nursing babe
Finds You in steady supply.

Too grand!
Too glorious!
Blinded by the refulgence of Your sublimity,
I cover my eyes,
Yet peek with hope
To glimpse You passing.

In the mist of Your Mystery,
You are!
You are!
You are!

I know,
Because I am,
And You whisper and shout
Revealing,
I AM THAT I AM

Loving You

 

I am with you,
As One Who has always loved you,
Loving you as you began your life’s journey
To the kingdom of Heaven,
Your true home,
Loving you all the days I have appointed you.

Loving you unto dying and your death,
Loving you as the breath of life.
I have played upon the strings of your heart,
So that you would hear My music,
Even midst dissimilitude and dissonance.

Let not the unbelieving of the world,
Let not discordance and strife of flesh,
Let not the deceiver of Men,
Draw a curtain before your eyes.

Fix the gaze of your soul upon Me,
Here in your heart,
I reign, holy and at rest,
Upon the throne
At the center of your being.

Do Me homage
As you arise at the break of day.
Bow before Me
With the rising of each sun.
Dance with Me,
Following My lead.

Cry with Me in the sorrowing.
Plead for sinners in their fall.
Lend the hand of prayer
To uphold the weak and weary.

You journey as one
In the One Who is All Love.
Peace, My child.
Peace and refreshment,
Here at my altar.

I polish and perfect you,
That you may be
A monstrance of humility,
Fading from prominence,
As I send out my splendor
As grace and blessing.

All is gift to the one
Who receives with the seasons,
Yielding to the winds that blow upon the soul,
Welcoming the water of spring rains,
And the summer torrents,
Allowing blankets of snow
To still you in repose,
Awaiting new life, My Life.

© 2015 Joann Nelander

Smiling Eyes

Lying in the sunshine of Your love,
Recounting humming bird days,
Flitting as flashes flung to the heavens,
I look to the horizon,
For the rising of yet another sun.

I feel I know You.
It is me I doubt,
But I don’t know why.
I have spent my life
Becoming what I think
You want me to be.
Others, though, have always
Seemed to do it better.

Here I am at eve tide,
Recounting the many waters,
That wash these shores.
Your Beauty plays for me,
Painting the setting sun;
I guess, to reassure my clay
Of The Love You are,
As I still look for me,
Reflected in Your smiling eyes.

copyright 2014 Joann Nelander

Be Ready for the Infant King

Who will come to the stable
On Christmas Day?
And what will they take away?

Wise men, steadfast and earnest, came,
Instead of palace music,
They heard the donkey brae.
A lowly sound and sight,
Yet their wonder un-allayed.

Many come rejoicing,
To behold the Newborn King,
Bowing low,
While angels sing.

Christ’s comes for all
But not all come.
Some come, behold, then fall away,
Being rootless, they merrily go their way.

Father God prepared a voice
To announce His Only Word,
A messenger, born before, to go before.
Another child, spared Ramah’s plight
To live and pierce Sin’s long night
John, O, John, still cries, “Repent!”

Prepare if you would follow.
At Jerusalem’s Gate,
Many cried, “Messiah,”
Who would soon cry, “Crucify.”

Whose will will you do,
When the music fades in life?
Pride prides itself on ‘my way,’
Confounds with will and strife.

Without a ready, willing heart,
Nothing changes Christmas Day.
Corrupt hearts go on corrupting,
All the while the kingly Infant cries,
As throughout His life,
“I am the Way.”

Whose heart will live in yours
As angelic songs fade away.
Will you simply leave the stable
To follow your own way?

Come, O come, rejoicing!
Praying for a change.
Receive the Babe within your Heart.
The humble He teaches His Way.

©2011 Joann Nelander