Their is a story,
A tale of woe,
I try to follow,
Deciphering a plot,
Indistinctly viewing characters,
Foreshadowing, overshadowing,
Conflict unresolved ,
Internal, external, eternal,
Subterfuge and grace,
Lift up your hearts,
Rejoice,
Enduring and short,
My life and an end.
Monthly Archives: July 2019
Monday morning
Tiredly dragging myself to an early Monday morning Mass, barely making it on time, inspiration appeared. The Mass is conducted in a side chapel. In the main darkened church, an elderly man was finishing his walk of the Stations of the Cross. Another sat silent in a pew. An elderly woman, seated in a secluded space, prayed a Rosary. The magnificence of the Church, the ability to inspire prayer, hope, and the glorification of God overwhelmed my lethargic stupor. God is good and all giving. Do all good people go to heaven? I am not sure. I know some bad ones make it. Today is the feast day of Mary Magdalene, and let’s not forget the thief on the Cross.
Empty Tomb Prayer
Anonymous
My God,
My internal anguish will not cease.
My sorrowful memories press into my head like a crown of thorns,
Woven by the mockery and scourging
From a cohort of authorities and coworkers,
Within schools and neighborhoods,
At the mouths and hands of enemies and self.
Amidst family and church as well
There is not always a haven,
A stable place to rest my head.
I long for solace hoping to see Your face,
To hear Your voice.
Still, I remain in tears.
Often I become angry when I look upon my own image,
Even doubting if You Yourself wish me goodness.
Despondent and wandering, I drink vinegar alone,
Wanting relief, yet I merely become thirstier.
Where can my aching heart turn to fill its void?
May I find a merciful balm in Your Son Jesus’ turmoil and torment.
As He first did on Golgotha,
As His father tended to His needs,
Place me under Your Mother Mary’s peaceful care.
So, too, Saint Joseph, I plead,
Build me into a strong, secure shelter where I can dwell.
Prospering and fruitful,
Hold me within the loving arms of Jesus’ real friends.
May Your Son gently rest His wounded Hands upon my broken confidence,
And command my mind’s anxious sea and sky to be calm.
The Specters of Fear who perpetually discourage,
May the despair be overcome through His risen light.
In the grace-filled rays which reveal Your path,
Mature my soul by becoming content.
For truly You made no mistake in creating me.
Lastly, by Your Magnificent Spirit,
Warm my life,
Resurrecting me from the dank pit.
Receive these humble requests,
O Lord God, in Jesus the Christ.
Through His absolution,
May my soul be as white as snow.
By feasting upon His Flesh,
The Eucharist,
A holy stream will burst forth in my resentful desert
Whereby I will forgive those who have hurt me.
And with my blood flowing through His
I will no longer simply know You only as my God
But also trust in You as my Father.
Amen.
Recent Comments