The Lioness: March 2014

Sunday, March 30, 2014

You who eat to gladden your gut,
You who indulge to comfort the flesh,
Come to a true banquet!

Rejoice your spirit,
Give joy to your soul.
Fatten your prayer on faith.

Let words ravish the Heart of God.
Even words unspoken, but burning in your heart,
Call angels to your side.

Quiet the world, by stepping apart,
Still your flesh in earnest fast,
Widen the breath of your praise.

The majesty of God inclines to your lips.
For it is He, Who has promised.
Whisper and He smiles.

The Banquet

You who eat to gladden your gut,
You who indulge to comfort the flesh,
Come to a true banquet!

Rejoice your spirit,
Give joy to your soul.
Fatten your prayer on faith.

Let words ravish the Heart of God.
Even words unspoken, but burning in your heart,
Call angels to your side.

Quiet the world, by stepping apart,
Still your flesh in earnest fast,
Widen the breath of your praise.

The majesty of God inclines to your lips.
For it is He, Who has promised.
Whisper and He smiles.

Shocking Video: Bill Maher Exposes Liberal Hypocrisy–via Informed Catholic Voter

Shocking Video: Bill Maher Exposes Liberal Hypocrisy

I wouldn't have believed that liberal talk show host Bill Maher could actually have a segment that is worth circulating, but here it is the video as evidence. I do not know who the two liberal panelists are, but it really doesn't matter: you could take the heads off any liberals and switch them around and it wouldn't matter because they are all parrots for the Obama agenda.Kudos to Bill Maher for actually doing a neutral piece, and for exposing the hypocrisy of his own kind.

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Prayer to the Powerful Babe

O, Jesus, True God,
Beginning human life
In the womb of Mary,
I come to You in Your first moments,
O powerful Babe.

Mother Mary's "Fiat"
Brought the Father's Will to Earth,
Wrapped in the stuff of Man,
Purity's Flesh emerging as cells divide.

I come to You, God-Man,
In Your holy beginning,
Awaiting, with all creation,
The formation of Your Sacred Heart
In Time.

O, Happy Fruition,
O, Incarnate Son,
In Mary's virginal womb,
Bless with inner healing
The whole of my life.
Bring to my concupiscence
Conformity to the Father's Will.

I am the least in my Father's house,
But by my spiritual visitation,
My willing presence,
In the nascent Being of the Christ,
One, so small and mean as me,
Can find a home
As the Heart of Jesus
Is formed and fired.

O, powerful Babe,
O, pure and holy Fetus,
I trust in You
From Your beginning
As Prophet, Priest and King,
To bring me,
And all creation,
To a happy end.
Amen

©Joann Nelander 2011

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

I Was Irish Once

[audio http://lionslair.files.wordpress.com/2014/03/audio-post-2014-03-19-01-17-53.mp3|titles=Audio Post]

I was Irish once:

I was Irish for brief moments,
As they danced on makeshift stage.
Three sisters donned in green and white,
With ribbons in curled hair.

I was Irish for brief moments,
As locks bounced to rhythms tapped,
By jigging, flying feet,
Flitting blithely through the air.

I was Irish for brief moments,
Of merriment sublime,
Happy, joyful leaping,
Knees high, and lifted, kicking.

I was Irish for brief moments
Minstrels played their magic tunes,
And young girls moved in rocking fashion
Erin's reveries impassioned.

I was Irish for brief moments.
Sweetly skirted colleens,
Poised on pointed toes.
Sent hearts a-skipping, happy legs a-lifting,

I was Irish for brief moments,
As fairies with green ribbons
In coiffed and flaming hair,
Spun a golden space in memory's place.

I was Irish for brief moments,
And see again in dreaming,
Gladsome spinning, hopping, prancing,
Three sisters on stage dancing.

Yes, I was Irish once.

Friday, March 14, 2014

My Will and Testament - a Prayer

O my Lord, God Almighty,
Rule on the throne of my life.
Set right.
Set straight.
Set at peace.
Subjugate all within my sphere.
All that I have,
All that I desire,
All that I am,
I will to You.

Portal to Eternity

If the past has a portal,
I take up the Gift,
The blood of the Lamb,
And apply it to the door-posts,
And lintels,
That it may cry out for this sinner,
And my heritage,
That the Angel of Death
May pass me by.

Cry for me, My Beloved,
In my night,
That the past,
Now cleansed,
Open in Your Heart
A door to heavenly Eternity.

Cry, my Beloved,
Plead mercy on my history,
And newness of Life,
In this cleansed space of being,
New Creation,
A heart and soul after Your Own.
Henceforth and forever one.

Thursday, March 6, 2014

Angel Story

Here is one of my personal angel stories:

Years ago my husband and I were in a movie theater engrossed in the movie, when suddenly I was inspired to pray, so I did. The feeling was so unexpected and strong, I stopped watching the screen, closed my eyes and turned my attention to prayer as I felt directed to do. Then I had peace and wondered what that was all about.

When we returned home, my, then teenaged, daughter couldn't wait to tell us what had happened. She said she was comfortably seated in an easy chair in the family room, reading a book. Then phone rang, so she reluctantly got out of the chair to answer it. As soon as she was out of the chair, a large and heavy sound unit that had been on the highest shelf in a built in bookcase, fell onto the every spot she had occupied just seconds before.

The light came on for me and I immediately understood why I was prodded to pray. My daughter and I remember this incident with thanksgiving to the angels to this day!

Angel Story

Here is one of my personal angel stories:

Years ago my husband and I were in a movie theater engrossed in the movie, when suddenly I was inspired to pray, so I did. The feeling was so unexpected and strong, I stopped watching the screen, closed my eyes and turned my attention to prayer as I felt directed to do. Then I had peace and wondered what that was all about.

When we returned home, my, then teenaged, daughter couldn't wait to tell us what had happened. She said she was comfortably seated in an easy chair in the family room, reading a book. Then phone rang, so she reluctantly got out of the chair to answer it. As soon as she was out of the chair, a large and heavy sound unit that had been on the highest shelf in a built in bookcase, fell onto the every spot she had occupied just seconds before.

The light came on for me and I immediately understood why I was prodded to pray. My daughter and I remember this incident with thanksgiving to the angels to this day!

The Art of Growing Up - My Lent

"If you spot it, you got it!"

It's common for folks to notice the faults of others, perhaps missing these very attributes in themselves. Psychology calls it "projection" .

It may be the person I can't abide simply reminds me of me. Perhaps in praying for him, a passing angel will polish away my flaws, a two for one in the realm of abundant grace.

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

By Your Presence

You, by Your Presence, O Lord,
Are Light to my darkness.
You are the kiss upon my brow,
The oil upon my head,
The arms of sweet embrace,
The banner over my heart.

You, All Love,
Bless this child of Your magnificent
And magnanimous Mercy.
Day by day.
I find You all about me.

Flowers and fields,
Spread before me
As a welcoming blanket.
Come rest awhile, You invite.
I come and I delight.

©2011 Joann Nelander

Listening and Silent

It seems...
I am always talking to You,
That I am always with You,
And have no doubt
You are with me,
Listening and silent.

I am an endless monologue.
You, hovering Spirit,
Wordlessly eloquent
Abide.
You are Presence and Truth,
Listening and silent,
Thunderously silent,
Save for the stirring of my heart,
And the sometime rush of thought,
Coming, as it were,
From the bowels of my being
With frightening conviction,
And challenging my reticence
To speak aloud
The thoughts of solitude.

Reluctant always
To go about,
And leave the cloister of my heart,
Where in Your chambers I find,
And hold dear,
Private audience with the King,

The world without is a noisy charade,
And woos the pride of me take center stage.
Where suddenly I realize
I have been talking much, too much,
To my regret.

I, naggingly, suspect
I have diminished
What was my treasure
And ceased to learn.
Cacophany of me,
I cease to learn,
And simply rearrange,
That with which I am familiar.

Where do prophet, poet and a would be recluse
Find voice if not in You,
Rejecting even audience
To find You in my silence,
Your silence?

The Breech

How great is the distance between us?

Some would say
The span from East to West,
Or measure in miles the chasm
Stretching from Heaven to Hell.
Others count the centuries
Since Your earthly Presence
In hallowed flesh.

There is no numbering
Eternity or Divinity.
You are closer than my breath.
Your Heart beats within my breast.
Day by day,
Nay, moment by moment,
I pick up Your rhythm.

Traversing the breech,
You make me Your own.
Small, but beloved,
I repose in willful abandonment.
Grace-filled faith,
A movement,
Not a measure,
Soars to the heavens,
In flights of trust in You.

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Kremlin-Paid TV Anchor Goes Rogue

Via Mediaite – Abby Martin , “An anchor for the English language network RT — a Kremlin-controlled news outlet”

“Condemns Russian Actions in Crimea”

http://www.mediaite.com/tv/kremlin-paid-tv-anchor-goes-rogue-condemns-russian-actions-in-crimea/#ooid=c3bTAwbDrmdyvm-QjTtiCFL9zxNWQ5az

An anchor for the English language network RT — a Kremlin-controlled news outlet whose coverage on the crisis in Ukraine has been, er, selective — went off-script Tuesday morning and condemned Russia’s incursion into the Crimean peninsula.

At the end of her show, Abby Martin, host ofBreaking the Set, asserted her strong disagreement with Russia’s actions, which she explicitly called a “military occupation”:

“Before I wrap up the show, I wanted to say something from my heart about the ongoing political crisis in Ukraine, and Russia’s military occupation of Crimea. Just because I work here, for RT, doesn’t mean I don’t have editorial independence. And I can’t stress enough how strongly I am against any military intervention in sovereign nations’ affairs. What Russia did is wrong.”

Martin admitted she did not have an expert’s grasp on the history of Ukraine’s relations with Russia (perhaps a dangerous admission, as we’ll see below), but objected to military intervention in any and all cases.

“I admittedly don’t know as much as I should about Ukraine’s history or the cultural dynamics of the region, but what I do know is that military intervention is never the answer. And I will not sit here and apologize or defend military aggression.
[snip] “All we can do now is hope for a peaceful outcome for a terrible situation, and prevent another full-blown Cold War between multiple superpowers. Until then, I’ll keep telling the truth as I see it.”

Her reward? A free trip to the Crimean Peninsula. RT responded shortly after Martin’s missive

more via Mediaite

Cry of One Forgiven

How can I thank You
For Your forgiveness,
For that moment,
In which You scattered
My accusers,
And took my part?

As I looked up
From the mud of my despair,
Your majestic countenance
Was all.
You loomed before me,
Brighter than the Sun.

Who could have imagined
Such grandeur?
You wore holiness like a crown
That more than circled Your brow.
Rather, it emanated,
As light from Your Being,
Announcing Who You are?

Only humility can receive You,
And dare Your gaze.
For Your Eyes
Pierce the soul,
Revealing all.

Only those crying for a Savior
Dare look up,
To confess with that glance
Their fault and nakedness,
Helpless and all pleading.

Only the thirsty
Can drink in the majesty
Of Your knowing.
For pride is the travesty,
That hides,
For fear of revelation.

That moment shattered my fear
And rent the clouds of all my life.
Taking proffered Hand,
I rise to my feet
Then, as now, again,

Light embraces me
As my rags fall to my feet.
In their place
Love has woven a mantle,
A robe of Being,
That more than clothes me.

It is a signal grace,
That names me,
With it, You announce
To all Creation
Who I am in You.

My "Yes" reverberates
Throughout the Universe.
I am new,
Like a star at its birth,
Bursting forth
With Your Holiness;
Baptized in Your Redemption.

How can I thank You
For Your forgiveness,
O, You, Who took my part?
Go now,
In search of my accusers.

Copyright 2011 Joann Nelander