As an Orchid

My Lord Jesus,
As my eyes open
On a new day,
And sleep gives way,
I find You beside me.

As a lover,
You, have watched me sleep.
My stirrings,
During the long night,
Were covered
As with a blanket.

Chasing dreams,
I did not notice You,
Lying there upon Your Cross,
Waiting to be lifted into place.

Your forbearance frightens me.
What will it demand,
When dreams abandon me,
And leave me to Your Love.

Will my “yes”
Cause You to be raised
And die for me
On yet another day?

What You have done,
You are doing,
And still will do.
Such is the fearful Love
You waste on me.

To Love, I am a flower
Like no other.
Like one orchid,
Blooming among millions of orchids
In dense worldly jungles,
Never to be beheld,
Yet ravishing in perfection.

You cherish me,
As Your image,
Which the Beauty,
Growing in me,
Though unseen,
Will one day reveal.

Yes; A thousand times, yes!
I will be your Orchid this day.
All days!
You, upon Your Cross,
Me, in the world,
But not of it,
Mysteriously bound together.

Pick me!
Make of me a corsage,
One solitary bloom,
Graced beyond imaging.

Press me, then,
Onto Your Father’s Breast
To wear in proclamation
Of Your Life,
Spent upon a Cross,
Bringing me to Life.

As this day unfurls,
As a wave offering,
Remind me of the throne
I rest upon,
Worn as a treasure
Over our Father’s Heart.

By Joann Nelander

Chaplet of the Holy Wounds–Video

Awakening #ChristianPoetry

Awakening
I woke up with God today.
He was with me,
And I smiled.

I am smiling still,
For in His Presence,
I seem to glow,
On the inside, of course.

I hug Christ to me, all gratitude.
Being flighty like a bird,
Anxious to take to wing,
Precisely, because my spirit soars,
I count the grace of moment, a treasure,
and tuck it ‘neath my pinions.

Once aloft on wings of love,
I may be distracted,
Attracted by His good creation,
Or attacked by jealous gods,
Envying His majesty,
And hating His Intimacy
With so lowly a creature.

My God, thank You,
For this favor in Time,
That I may be refreshed,
And readied for Eternity,
Where I shall never
Lose sight of You.

Steel me, O Immanuel.
Sharpen my vision,
To see You with me always,
In Your hidden Presence
Within my soul.

© 2011  Joann Nelander All rights reserved

As an Orchid

My Lord Jesus,
As my eyes open
On a new day,
And sleep gives way,
I find You beside me.

As a lover,
You, have watched me sleep.
My stirrings,
During the long night,
Were covered
As with a blanket.

Chasing dreams,
I did not notice You,
Lying there upon Your Cross,
Waiting to be lifted into place.

Your forbearance frightens me.
What will it demand,
When dreams abandon me,
And leave me to Your Love.

Will my “yes”
Cause You to be raised
And die for me
On yet another day?

What You have done,
You are doing,
And still will do.
Such is the fearful Love
You waste on me.

To Love, I am a flower
Like no other.
Like one orchid,
Blooming among millions of orchids
In dense worldly jungles,
Never to be beheld,
Yet ravishing in perfection.

You cherish me,
As Your image,
Which the Beauty,
Growing in me,
Though unseen,
Will one day reveal.

Yes; A thousand times, yes!
I will be your Orchid this day.
All days!
You, upon Your Cross,
Me, in the world,
But not of it,
Mysteriously bound together.

Pick me!
Make of me a corsage,
One solitary bloom,
Graced beyond imaging.

Press me, then,
Onto Your Father’s Breast
To wear in proclamation
Of Your Life,
Spent upon a Cross,
Bringing me to Life.

As this day unfurls,
As a wave offering,
Remind me of the throne
I rest upon,
Worn as a treasure
Over our Father’s Heart.

By Joann Nelander

A Thousand Little Moments

I fail and I fall.
Yes, Father, it’s me, again.
My prayers and tears reach Your heart
With plaintiff sighs.

I reach for Love,
As a baby grasps the finger,
Securing You to my heart,
Binding You by trifles.
A thousand little moments,
Like a knitter’s weave,
Trivial triumphs conquering like souls,
For made in Your image, I desire only You.

Of wooing, my begging be a part.
I turn, my God, to You
As a prayer with every care.
Prayer and tears, now, all one.
I nestle to Your breast
And am all ear.

I listen as beat upon beat,
Love’s rhythm reassures me of the next
And of Your eternal constancy.
I listen, as for a whisper,
And fear not to whisper every care
And fretful prayer.

I reach for You with every breath,
And sigh when You draw nigh.
You answer with a mother’s warmth,
Bending low, picking me up, pressing me
To Your great and consoling bosom.

“What is it my child. Am I not here?
Haven’t I given you all?”
You kiss away my tears,
And delight in the exchange.
I have given nothing but complaint,
Yet You are full of smiles.

A thousand little moments knit our day.
I cry and You comfort.
I beckon and You bend in kind regard.
You draw me into that chamber,
In which I was formed,
That hallowed space,
In which my time began.

Heaven and rest contained
In one all holy Name.
Name me, my God,
And I will come into being,
Called forth from my darkness
Into Your marvelous Day.

All our moments measured by Your mercy,
I cry out for a heart made unto Your own,
That I may grow to give Your Love.
Love begetting love, for love alone.

©2010 Joann Nelander

Your Way, My Way

I wept on the way, O Lord.
Gratitude overwhelmed me,
For I had, at last,
Found my way.

Bending to me,
Your inclination
Gave me courage.
My garments were not pretty,
For a King to gaze upon,
But You saw only me,
Your creature in need.

I stirred Your Passion,
For it was for me
That You searched,
Despite my dishevelment,
You recognized Your Image
Stamped in my being.

You clutched me to Your bosom,
Covered me with Your mantle.
And carried me to the Inn Keeper.

In Your Church,
The treasures You deposited,
Ministered to my wounds.
Deep and resistant,
As the lesions were,
They yielded,
As I lingered long,
In the bed of my sorrow,
Beholding the cause
For my joy.

Your Way is all about me,
Though narrow,
So as to thread
The eye of a needle,
It is like Your broad Smile.

Graced virtue, Your gift,
Accompany me.
The world is as the meadows
Surrounding Your dwelling among men.

Flowers, in due season,
Spring up in my soul,
And fruit, You wait for,
Following the budding
Of my prayer,
Will be rich for Your taking.

I am the love you seek,
And the Love You,
From the beginning,
Have given.
For it is
In Your nature to Love
And in my nature
To be loved.
This is Your Way, my Love.
This is the Way I choose.

©2012 Joann Nelander All rights reserved

Fortnight For Freedom

A call to prayer for our great nation by our bishops has gone forth.  Now it is for the people to pray.

H/T  USCCB

 

The fourteen days from June 21—the vigil of the Feasts of St. John Fisher and St. Thomas More—to July 4, Independence Day, are dedicated to this “fortnight for freedom”—a great hymn of prayer for our country. Our liturgical calendar celebrates a series of great martyrs who remained faithful in the face of persecution by political power—St. John Fisher and St. Thomas More, St. John the Baptist, SS. Peter and Paul, and the First Martyrs of the Church of Rome.  Culminating on Independence Day, this special period of prayer, study, catechesis, and public action will emphasize both our Christian and American heritage of liberty. Dioceses and parishes around the country have scheduled special events that support a great national campaign of teaching and witness for religious liberty.