Wounded Love

Thomas wanted reality.
Thomas wanted answers.
Thomas wanted undeniable proof.

He trusted his mind.
He trusted his senses.
He walked by sight,
But feared to trust
The witnesses of Resurrection.

A God, with wounds of Love, understood.
A God, marked by our disbelief,
Stood before him,
In plain sight.

Thomas finger my wounds.
Feel the warmth of human flesh.
Feel the throbbing of My Heart,
Bounding against
Your hand in My Side.

Thomas you wanted only
The trappings of reality.
Am I real now
Real enough for you,
My friend?

Standing, face to face,
Before I Am,
Bought to his knees
By living, breathing, proof,
He stand in our place.

Humbled by faith's awakening,
Before the True Witness,
Senses satisfied,
Content, now, and forever,
He'll follow blindly,
Unto death.

"My Lord and my God."

Copyright Joann Nelander 2012
All rights reserved

The Prayer- talent under wraps

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gcQwYps_tVc&w=560&h=315]

The Fisher and His Net

You are inconvenient Truth.
I want to believe myself alive.
I tout myself spiritual.
You are the spoiler
In the midst
Of my presumptions.

I run with the world
And You fish for me.
Cast your net after me.
I duck the toss,
Scamper out of reach.

Though its weave
Be that of Love,
It's warp be reason,
Faith the weft
That elevates,
I fear your net as chains.

If I only knew
Who it is
Who is constantly
Trolling the Deep
To save me.

If I could see
That I am blinded
In the chaos.
Trapped in ancient lies,
Ensnared in deception's trenches.

Tides and currents,
Direct me movement.
I am not free.

I flow
Caught in the embrace
Of the masses,
Pitiful humanity,
Chained by tumultuous sensation ,
And arrogant bravado,
Regardless of Truth's freedom.

Relentless Pursuer,
Plot the routes of my escape
To wait for me
In the shallows
And guide me.
Then encircles
By Your arms,
Lift me beyond myself.

Deliver me, O, Fisher
From the waters
In which I drown.

Draw me up
To Yourself
Separating the flotsam,
And jetsam,
Counting me Your own.

© 2012 Joann Nelander

All rights reserved

P.S.

A Man Clothed in Sin

A man clothed in sin
Walked the long aisle
To stand before the Crucifix.
Long years,
No tears,
He came to say,
“You died for me,
And I don’t give a damn!”
The hardened before the Hallowed,
The clock running down,
Time spent and unreflected,
Deeds done and unrepentant.
Challenged to say the words,
He began,
“You died for me,
And I don’t give…”
Undaunted, he repeated,
“You died for me
And I don’t…..”
Gaze focused
On that bloodied Corpse,
Resolute, again, he began.
“You died for me…”
…….
“You died for me…”
“You died for me!”
Tears, tears,
Rivers of tears,
Years unspent,
And now in flood.
Miracles at the Red Sea,
Yet, none greater
Than the Passover,
One innocent Lamb,
Slain, and yet standing,
Lifted up,
Drawing thee.
© 2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved
Inspired by another story :

MONDAY, 6 AUGUST 2007

Cardinal Lustiger RIP 1926-2007

I didn’t always agree with the former Archbishop of Paris, Cardinal Jean-Marie Lustiger, who died yesterday, but his tenure of that see brought a great deal more good than harm, I think. On his watch, the Catholic life of the city gained a huge boost; the new movements revitalized many parishes, and vocations to the priesthood soared. I remember that he habitually celebrated Mass in Notre Dame almost every Sunday evening for the young people who came to that Mass; a great example to the other bishops of France, many of whom are facing the priestly extinction of their dioceses.
I heard a story attributed to him—maybe it is one he told rather than a story about himself (since he himself was a Jewish convert). I was given to understand that the story is a true one.
Two boys were, out of mischief, determined to tease their parish priest, so they went to confession and made up outrageous sins, just to see what the priest would say. The priest, listening to the second boy, realizing that he was being ‘had’, and hurt by the mockery of the sacrament, asked the second lad as a ‘penance’ to go to the crucifix over the tabernacle and shout out loud, three times ‘you died for me, and I don’t give a damn’. The lad did as he was asked; by the third time he was in tears. Some years later, he was ordained a priest.
May Jean-Marie Lustiger rest in peace.

A Man Clothed in Sin

A man clothed in sin
Walked the long aisle
To stand before the Crucifix.

Long years,
No tears,
He came to say,
"You died for me,
And I don't give a damn!"

The hardened before the Hallowed,
The clock running down,
Time spent and unreflected,
Deeds done and unrepentant.

Challenged to say the words,
He began,
"You died for me,
And I don't give..."

Undaunted, he repeated,
"You died for me
And I don't....."
Gaze focused
On that bloodied Corpse,
Resolute, again, he began,
"You died for me..."
.......
"You died for me..."
"You died for me!"

Tears, tears,
Rivers of tears,
Years unspent,
And now in flood.

Miracles at the Red Sea,
Yet, none greater
Than the Passover,
One innocent Lamb,
Slain, and yet standing,
Lifted up,
Drawing thee.

© 2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

Holy Fetus

O, Holy Fetus,
One cell, two cells,
Cell upon cell,
You took shape,
Within the Virgin’s womb.

O Holy Child,
Born to die,
You were born in Bethlehem
City of Promise,
But conceived in Nazareth,
Crossroad of sinners,
Now graced
By the Holy.

Cell upon cell,
Grace upon grace,
The Virgin’s
“Fiat”
Alleluia!

Copyright Joann Nelander 2012

All rights reserved

The Visit

In flight
Into Egypt
Hungry,
Hurried,
Yet at peace.

You pass my way.
Because you are holy
We are worlds apart.
Yet you touch me
By your plight.

You must eat.
You must drink.
Rest a moment
Under my tent.

Holy visitors,
Let me wash your feet.
Your smiles
Enter my heart
As a symphony

Stay the night.
Bring the star
From heaven
To light my adobe.

Dwell forever
Here in Spirit
Though you must hurry
On your way.

Journey on,
O, Protector, O Mother, O Child.
With me,
In your hearts,

Now, I wait
For you forever.
I tucked a little rattle
Under His blanket.
Perhaps, He'll hear me
In the sounds,
A remembrance,
Like a prayer,
In the rattling of beads.

By Joann Nelander

Message from Holy Love

Holy Love
March 20, 2012
Public
Blessed Mother says:  "Praise be to Jesus."
"I am about to advise you concerning the resolution of the last Marian Dogma, and why Heaven asks for prayers toward this end.  Once this Handmaid of the Lord is officially accepted as Mediatrix, Co-Redemptrix and Advocate, the Spirit of Peace will pass over the world.  Every heart will be pervaded by Truth.  It is at that moment in time souls will need to decide either for Truth or against it."
"Truth will be as a winnowing fan separating the chaff from the grain.  All error will be exposed to the Light.  Enmity will transform to friendship."
"I tell you these things now so that no one can say they did not recognize what was taking place.  No one can discount the events as they occur and lose the opportunity for conversion of heart."
"Pay attention!"

Be the Sun in Me

Be, O Lord, the Sun in me.
Despite, my clouds,
Masking Your Beauty,
Be seen as light invisible,
Going forth, in the Spirit,
To the world,
A world in need of Revelation.

Pierce the veil of my travail.
Linger long to suffer my malaise,
My unsettled wine.

By grace, bless me,
As you bless those
Blind to Your Presence in me.

Sacrament and penance,
My claim upon Your Heart.
Light, undiminished,
Under my bushel,
Burning bright within my core,
Make of me a lampstand,
In Your Father's House.

Be, O, Lord,
The Sun in Me,
To a world in need of illumination.

Copyright Joann Nelander 2012
All rights reserved

Apple of Your Eye

You, the indwelling God of the faithful,
Have called me
"The apple of Your eye",
Look, therefore,
Out upon my world,
And bless those about me,
Good and bad.

Bless them not,
Because I see and intercede,
But because You see,
And, beholding their misery,
Reach out.

 
Being that You are Compassion,
Change my world,
Person by person,
Day by day.

See through me,
As the pupil of Your eye.
Use me as Your window
On my world.

Your Presence in me
Is as the Sun in the heavens,
Shining out,
And penetrating even the clouds
I place in Your way.

"In Your Light,
We see Light. "

Copyright Joann Nelander 2011
All rights reserved

On a Visit of the Pilgrim Virgin

Pick me up, dear Mother
Your visit means so much to me.
O, how I need a mother.

I gaze at your image,
And you engrave it on my heart.
The beating of my heart,
Reminds me of my mortality,
And how you were
At a moment in time, Mary,
The young virgin with Child, in Nazareth,
Living life on earth
As I do now.

O,  how I wish to live
In your purity
And simplicity of heart.

Here I am
At your feet in supplication,
Pleading peace,
That I might live
In the spirit of Shalom.

Here is my kiss.
Remember me,
As You gaze on your Son.
Engrave my name upon His heart,
As  your fire of love blazes
In His presence.
I am love,
Awaiting the embrace of Love.


Copyright Joann Nelander 2012