Loving You

I am with you,
As One Who has always loved you,
Loving you as you began your life’s journey
To the kingdom of Heaven,
Your true home,
Loving you all the days I have appointed you.
Loving you unto dying and your death,
Loving you as the breath of life.

I have played upon the strings of your heart,
So that you would hear My music,
Even midst dissimilitude and dissonance.
Let not the unbelieving of the world,
Let not discordance and strife of flesh,
Let not the deceiver of Men,
Draw a curtain before your eyes.

Fix the gaze of your soul upon Me,
Here in your heart,
I reign, holy and at rest,
Upon the throne
At the center of your being.

Do Me homage
As you arise at the break of day.
Bow before Me
With the rising of each sun.
Dance with Me,
Following My lead.
Cry with Me in the sorrowing.
Plead for sinners in their fall.

Lend the hand of prayer
To uphold the weak and weary.
You journey as one
In the One Who is All Love.

Peace, My child.
Peace and refreshment,
Here at my altar.
I polish and perfect you,
That you may be
A monstrance of humility,
Fading from prominence,
As I send out my splendor
As grace and blessing.

All is gift to the one
Who receives with the seasons,
Yielding to the winds that blow upon the soul,
Welcoming the water of spring rains,
And the summer torrents,
Allowing blankets of snow
To still you in repose,
Awaiting new life, My Life.

© 2015 Joann Nelander

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I Am

 

Your grandeur overwhelms me.
You lavish Your splendor,
Even on the ordinary,
Like grass upon the meadow,
And tears welling from the heart.

Where can I look that You are not?
Even the fallow field,
Awaits another day,
As a virgin in repose,
Seeing, in needful desire,
A time of promise and plenty.

You are written on our hearts.
We perceive You near,
Though hidden.
Terrible and tender,
You are unknowable,
Unless You give the means of knowing.

The universe though draped
In the garb of galactic might and majesty,
Does not know that it is.
Yet, the sentient child
Plays at Your side.

Men, too busy,
Brush by You on the street.
While the nursing babe
Finds You in steady supply.

Too grand!
Too glorious!
Blinded by the refulgence of Your sublimity,
I cover my eyes,
Yet peek with hope
To glimpse You passing.

In the mist of Your Mystery,
You are!
You are!
You are!

I know,
Because I am,
And You whisper and shout
Revealing,
I AM THAT I AM

Saint Teresa of Jesus, Virgin and Doctor of the Church – Memorial

October 15“Let nothing disturb you, Let nothing frighten you, All things are passing away: God never changes. Patience obtains all things. Whoever has God lacks nothing; God alone suffices.”[1]
St. Teresa was born in Avila, Spain in 1515. At age 20, she entered the Carmelite Convent of the Incarnation in Avila. Shortly after her profession, St. Teresa became seriously ill, which required a lengthy recuperation. After an encouraging visit by the Carmelite General at the time, John Baptist Rubeo, St. Teresa resolved to found new Carmelite convents committed to lives of poverty, seclusion and prayer. Also, she experienced many visions and mystical impressions and began to write spiritual books about them. Her important works include The Interior Castle, The Way of Perfection and her autobiography, The Life of Teresa of Jesus. St. Teresa was declared a Doctor of the Church in 1970 by Pope Paul VI. 

Via divineoffice.org

Bl. Charles de Foucauld & Peace in the Middle East

Bl. Charles de Foucauld – a saint for our times troubled and violent times. 

"My God, if you exist, make your existence known to me,"  Bl. Charles de Foucauld

On Charles de Foucauld

                        by Joann Nelander

Never having seen the stars of glory,
‘Til encountering them in You.
A mansion of grace without walls
Sheltered him in desert wastes.
The good in his heart was God.

He was a monstrance
His life was Gospel
Preached by a beating heart,
On fire to win man for God.

He lived preparing to die.
He expected martyrdom,
And lived in happy anticipation.
Desert priest and brother of all,
Pray for us,
Who still don’t see the stars.

©2011 Joann Nelander

Being

Hide me, hold me, help me,
Living rock of my being.

You, Truest Truth,
No mere symbol,
But Holy Being,
Are Ground of my being.

Creating with a Word, the Word,
You speak my name,
And, moment by moment,
Sustain my being.

Christ, my Rock,
May I forever be in Thee.

Copyright 2015 Joann Nelander

Joann Nelander
lionessblog.com