No Price Too High

Deacon Alex Jones died a few days ago after a very sudden illness. He came to the Catholic Church from his life as a Pentacostal preacher in Detroit, where he pastored two churches. When he entered the Catholic Church, after serious study of the early Church Fathers, over half his congregation followed him. It was really quite remarkable. He found the center of the Early Church was not great preaching, or even the moving of the Spirit, but the Eucharist, the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ.

May God bless him now with the Beatific Vision.

The Meeting Place

The Meeting Place

Here we are again,
You, Holy God,
Blessed Trinity,
And me,
Meeting in prayer.

I will to thank,
To praise,
To love,
And to extol Your Name,
The One, the Only,
The True,
My God.

Desiring so to open
Wide Your Heart,
As a gate yielding
To thanksgiving,
And receiving me,
Alive with praise and worship
Into the throne room
Of Your Love.

Bathed in the Spirit,
Being,
Receiving,
Head to heart,
Heart to head,
Head to heart,
Ebb and flow,
Water of Life,
My All.

© 2016 Joann Nelander

Here, Now and Forever

Here, Now and Forever

Here You are beside me.
Here You are within me.
Here You share Your Being as Bread for my living.Here I am believing.
Here I am becoming.
Here I receive Your Spirit as Life for my soul.

Here we dwell together.
Here we dwell in loving.
Here we give, completely,
Ourselves, One to the other,one to the Other

©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

Writing in Gold

Writing in Gold

I’m here,
Once again,
I’m here.
Awake to You.

Before dawn wakes,
I anticipate,
Opening the door of my heart,
Like a flower,
Invited by the light
Of a thousand yesterday’s.

We have a history,
And though my memory fades,
You cherish our moments.
Even the mundane,
You write in letters of Gold,
Recording them,
Transforming them.

I’m here, again,
Awake to You,
You, Who have been watching,
Guarding,
Writing,
In Gold,
Gold,
Precious Gold.

In the Gold of Ophir,
You write.
You tell,
My story,
My life,
In refined Gold,
You inscribe,
In Your Book of Life.
My heart,
On Your Most Sacred Heart.

© 2017 Joann Nelander