Enemy, Mine

Oh, dear enemy,
How you bless me with opportunity,
For prayer,
For patience,
For trust in God,
And to implore His counsel.

You and I are called
To know and love
The Lord Jesus.
Without Him,
There is only Darkness,
And descent
Into greater and greater sin.

Abraham believed,
And it was credited to him,
As justice.
Moses promised the Prophet’s Day.
John the Baptist
Prepared His Way,
And recognized the Lamb
Who would be slain.

Oh, enemy mine,
As we engage in battle
For men’s’s souls,
Let us take care
Not to lose our own.

Abraham was the Father
Of a race,
Who would love
And serve the True God.
Moses was a trusted servant,
John was the best man,
Greater than all born of woman.

To these God revealed Himself.
Each had his day,
Then departed,
And made way,
That the Name of God
Revealed to Joseph
And the humble Virgin,
Might capture the hearts
Of the enemies of God,
Living in Sin.

Loving us,
While we were yet sinners,
He won the battle,
We now fight.
He is and will be the only victor,
With those who fear not recognize Him,
Rush to His Side,
And bow under his Banner
Of Love and Mercy.

O, enemy mine,
We were partners in Sin,
Let us become partners in Love,
Beneath the Cross of One,
Who reconciled the world
To "Abba" God

©2012 Joann Nelander

Mysterious Will of God

From Your Cross
You looked upon Man
Your eyes were blinded
By Your Own Blood.
You could not even wipe
That Blood away,
For bound to a Cross,
Your Hands were held fast
To the mysterious Will
Of Your Father.

In Your Bloody Blindness,
You felt the anguish of rejection,
The rejection of Your People,
The rejection of the kings of the Earth,
The rejection of the once adoring crowds,
The rejection of cowardly friends,
Rejection of High Priests of Covenant Old,
And the rejection of disciples,
Destined to proclaim the New,
Alone,
Save for the Mother,
The Beloved Disciple
At her side,
And the repentant Magdalene,
Who knew both Sin
And deliverance at Your Hand.

From Your Cross
Look upon me.
See with Your heart
To forgive my Sin.
Draw me by way
Of the Blood and Water
Flowing from Your Pierced Side.
Wash away my Sin
In that Holy Tide,
That the Mysterious Will
Of Your Father
Give life to yet another son.
Thy will be done.

©2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

My Cry, Your Heart, My God

Reaching for You in the Night, I marvel.
What worlds my prayer spans!
The darkness of Space and Ages
Is penetrated by Your Light,
Pierced by my cry of recognition.

My will, like Longinian sword,
Penetrates Your Heart,
Tapping perpetual Springs.
Hallowed walls of Flesh part
To welcome me, a sinner, to sweet repose.

By Joann Nelander

My Cry, Your Heart, My God

My Cry, Your Heart, My God

Reaching for You in the Night, I marvel.
What worlds my prayer spans!
The darkness of Space and Ages
Is penetrated by Your Light,
Pierced by my cry of recognition.

My will, like Longinian sword,
Penetrates Your Heart,
Tapping perpetual Springs.
Hallowed walls of Flesh part
To welcome me, a sinner, to sweet repose.

By Joann Nelander

Mysterious Will of God

From Your Cross
You looked upon Man
Your eyes were blinded
By Your Own Blood.
You could not even wipe
That Blood away,
For bound to a Cross,
Your Hands were held fast
To the mysterious Will
Of Your Father.

In Your Bloody Blindness,
You felt the anguish of rejection,
The rejection of Your People,
The rejection of the kings of the Earth,
The rejection of the once adoring crowds,
The rejection of cowardly friends,
Rejection of High Priests of Covenant Old,
And the rejection of disciples,
Destined to proclaim the New,
Alone,
Save for the Mother,
The Beloved Disciple
At her side,
And the repentant Magdalene,
Who knew both Sin
And deliverance at Your Hand.

From Your Cross
Look upon me.
See with Your heart
To forgive my Sin.
Draw me by way
Of the Blood and Water
Flowing from Your Pierced Side.
Wash away my Sin
In that Holy Tide,
That the Mysterious Will
Of Your Father
Give life to yet another son.
Thy will be done.

©2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

Enemy, Mine

 

Oh, dear enemy,
How you bless me with opportunity,
For prayer,
For patience,
For trust in God,
And to implore His counsel.

You and I are called
To know and love
The Lord Jesus.
Without Him,
There is only Darkness,
And descent
Into greater and greater sin.

Abraham believed,
And it was credited to him,
As justice.
Moses promised the Prophet’s Day.
John the Baptist
Prepared His Way,
And recognized the Lamb
Who would be slain.

Oh, enemy mine,
As we engage in battle
For men’s’s souls,
Let us take care
Not to lose our own.

Abraham was the Father
Of a race,
Who would love
And serve the True God.
Moses was a trusted servant,
John was the best man,
Greater than all born of woman.

To these God revealed Himself.
Each had his day,
Then departed,
And made way,
That the Name of God
Revealed to Joseph
And the humble Virgin,
Might capture the hearts
Of the enemies of God,
Living in Sin.

Loving us,
While we were yet sinners,
He won the battle,
We now fight.
He is and will be the only victor,
With those who fear not recognize Him,
Rush to His Side,
And bow under his Banner
Of Love and Mercy.

O, enemy mine,
We were partners in Sin,
Let us become partners in Love,
Beneath the Cross of One,
Who in dying bore the Curse
And reconciled the world
To “Abba” God.

 

©2012 Joann Nelander

Reflecting on a Newborn

Joy was my initial response
to a day of silence,
more exactly, a day of listening.

The sense I had was of God’s delight.
He was looking on me as we do a newborn,
full of love  and enchantment.
He wanted me to share this delight.
He wanted me to recognize that it was me
who delighted Him.

I had an image in my mind of angels and saints,
those present at the Mass,
passing by and looking on me
as they would a precious newborn.
(I had just consumed the Eucharist.)
Each holy spirit approached,
giving me a blessing I would grow into,
or seen another way,
by which I would grow.

The Father wanted me to know
how much it delighted Him
to see me rise after a fall.
I am a sinner but I will be a saint,
if I allow His love to form me,
and continue to rise after each fall.
It would be nice if my falls were infrequent,
but if they be a thousand,
He would grace me a thousand times,
each time I washed my robe clean
in the blood of Christ,
confessing my sins and beginning anew,
a newborn.

By Joann Nelander