Becoming Flame

I offer You the straw of my life,
O Lord of my redemption.
Send Your angels, day by day,
To glean my field,
To fuel the fire of Your Love.

Did You not say,
“Learn from Me,
For I am meek,
And humble of heart?”
You do not need my riches.
You seek my poverty, my emptiness.

Your Fire penetrates my stubble.
I become like You,
All aglow As light and heat
Testify to Your Presence in the flame
That shoots to the heavens.

I am surrender and trust
In welcome transformation.
I am lost and yet eternal.
In You, straw by straw,
As kindling,
I am become the Flame.

Host upon the Altar

Pristine the whiteness
Engulfed in radiant flame,
Golden the rays,
Set about Your throne upon the altar.
For all the beauty of the monstrance,
You outshine the artist’s creation,
Just as You outshine Creation.

Give me eyes to see the Reality.
My eyes are designed to apprehend matter.
Here, You give us Mystery, Divinity.
I long to look upon Your fleshly Flesh,
To see Your locks curl mildly on Your shoulders,
To see the flash of smile and twinkle of the eye,
Majesty of manner, and goodly gentleness.

I gaze upon the Host,
All the while my heart and mind
Bring visions to the fore.
Power subdued in obedience,
Might bowed to the Father’s Will,
Abandonment, a fulfillment of prophetic word,
Suffering and salvific.

A Babe, a Boy, a Man,
Commending unto You
From womb to tomb,
In ignominy, yet dignity,
A Life and Death
Swallowing up Your wrath.

He bequeathed to us His Mother,
His ark and monstrance,
Forever refuge of the sinner at the altar.
At the altar of His Dying,
He willed to us a Mother,
Pristine Whiteness.

Host upon the Altar

Pristine the whiteness
Engulfed in radiant flame,
Golden the rays,
Set about Your throne upon the altar.
For all the beauty of the monstrance,
You outshine the artist’s creation,
Just as You outshine Creation.

Give me eyes to see the Reality.
My eyes are designed to apprehend matter.
Here, You give us Mystery, Divinity.
I long to look upon Your fleshly Flesh,
To see Your locks curl mildly on Your shoulders,
To see the flash of smile and twinkle of the eye,
Majesty of manner, and goodly gentleness.

I gaze upon the Host,
All the while my heart and mind
Bring visions to the fore.
Power subdued in obedience,
Might bowed to the Father’s Will,
Abandonment, a fulfillment of prophetic word,
Suffering and salvific.

A Babe, a Boy, a Man,
Commending unto You
From womb to tomb,
In ignominy, yet dignity,
A Life and Death
Swallowing up Your wrath.

He bequeathed to us His Mother,
His ark and monstrance,
Forever refuge of the sinner at the altar.
At the altar of His Dying,
He willed to us a Mother,
Pristine Whiteness.

Everyday

Everyday is good.
Everyday is holy.
All days are present
In Your Light.

With my life lived
Under Your gaze,
I implore of You
A river of love.

Pour the many waters
To wash the dross away,
Then You, Yourself,
Provide pure gold.

Through the heart
And hands of the Virgin,
Purify my gift each day
As I sigh to You.

All my ways,
The moments now arrayed
Gilded by Christ
Shine in holiness.

And, though my acts
Be as the poor trinkets of a child,
Your wearing of them,
In Our Father’s Presence,
Makes Him smile.

Look on me loving You
With every beat of my heart,
Skipping happily,
As a playmate at Your side,
Everyday.

©2013 Joann Nelander

Healing the Original Wound

“If you have loved and been loved in return, you have some idea of what the promise of eternal life is.  You can think a little of the love of God.  If you feel that you have been unloved or have not really loved, then you have a great hunger inside of you for the mysterious love of God.  In either case, you know something about the imperative need, the restlessness, the hunger that we all have to find love, unfailing love, in the brief reality we call our lives.”

Fr. Benedict J. Groeschel

Fr. Benedict J. Groeschel died recently after a long life of love and service.  I’ve asked him to be my spiritual director now that he has eternity to answer my questions. I’ll start small with his book.

Read a bit more  about Fr. Groeschel

Greatest Offering by Tswi da ChristMic

Everyday

Everyday is good.
Everyday is holy.
All days are present
In Your Light.

With my life lived
Under Your gaze,
I implore of You
A river of love.

Pour the many waters
To wash the dross away,
Then You, Yourself,
Provide pure gold.

Through the heart
And hands of the Virgin,
Purify my gift each day
As I sigh to You.

All my ways,
The moments now arrayed
Gilded by Christ
Shine in holiness.

And, though my acts
Be as the poor trinkets of a child,
Your wearing of them,
In Our Father’s Presence,
Makes Him smile.

Look on me loving You
With every beat of my heart,
Skipping happily,
As a playmate at Your side,
Everyday.

©2013 Joann Nelander