Scriptural Rosary Podcast

Joyful Scriptural Mysteries – Podcast
Luminous Scriptural Mysteries – Podcast
Sorrowful Scriptural Mysteries Pt.1 Podcast
Sorrowful Scriptural Mysteries Pt.2 Podcast
Glorious Scriptural Mysteries –

Scriptural Rosary Podcast

Joyful Scriptural Mysteries – Podcast
Luminous Scriptural Mysteries – Podcast
Sorrowful Scriptural Mysteries Pt.1 Podcast
Sorrowful Scriptural Mysteries Pt.2 Podcast
Glorious Scriptural Mysteries –

EASTER MORN

Holy Mother Mary,
I invite Your presence in my life.
As you look on my days,
Listen to my prayers,
Watch my growth through the years,
Touch me with the graces
Of.your Motherly prerogative,

You who walked the way of the Cross
With your Holy Son,
From the instant of His Incarnation
In your sacred womb,
Be beside me
In my every moment.
Meet me in my joys and sorrows
And impart your maternal blessing.

May my soul grow holy,
As you rush to lift me,
When I fall,
Just as you interceded
For Jesus in His Passion.

He fell under the weight of my sins,
And you cried out to heaven.
Hear now my heart
Beseeching thee.

Standing by His Cross,
See me in His Suffering
And receive me as your own.

Take the moments,
And all the years,
Of my existence,
In your arms,
As you did the Body of your Son,
When lowered from His Cross.
He wrought my Salvation
In that fearsome Hour.

Wrap my years in His shroud
And when I wake,
Rejoice in this,
My Easter morn.

Rejoice! Gaudete

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

The Brown Scapular

The Anchoress writes about the World’s Tiniest Hair Shirt, her scapular, which after hanging for years on her bedpost, now hangs about her neck as a “discipline.”  I can relate.

Wearing the cloth scapular has been an on and off battle which I believe my scapular is now winning.  From the stand point of pure convenience, I argued with Our Lady of Mt. Carmel,  that wearing the medal was better and would make this devotion easier for me to undertake.  So I wore the medal, but the cloth scapular glared at me from between socks, peeked through the clutter in my dresser drawer, or from wherever I last left it. Mary wasn’t buying my arguments. The Anchoress is right. It is a “discipline” – before it turns to love.

I finally found one I can wear with a minimum of hassle, though each morning, I still wake up with it intertwined with the chain of my Miraculous Medal. I used to grumble.  Now I just smile.  I think I owe the change in my motus primo primi (firstly first movement) to the efficacy of the scapular. It wraps me in the love of Mary and weaves the movements of her heart with mine.  Does that make any sense?