I’m nothing more than
a hole in the ground,
and nobody notices me,
and I’m okay with that.
But when I receive the
Body of Christ, an invisible
spring of living water leaps
up out of my peaceful soul.
These crystal clear waters
of pure love surge upwards,
with unbounded freedom and joy,
praising the King of Heaven.
Gentle St. Mother Teresa
Said that Jesus came to her
In the distressing disguise
Of the poorest of the poor,
And, of course, she was right;
However, is it possible that
Jesus also comes to us
in the distressing disguise
Of the inconvenient,
Of the unexpected,
Of the cross?
This equation is like a golden key,
That will certainly set our spirits free;
Prayer prepares the soul for God’s holy gifts,
While surrender cleanses and also sifts;
These open the door to true heartfelt love,
Which only comes from the good God above;
When love is tested in the deep dark night,
In the morn it shines as mercy so bright.
Inspired by the writings of Venerable Fulton J. Sheen
“Is life worth living?”
You wonder out loud;
For much of the time,
You’re lost in a crowd.
Life is worth living,
The bishop was right;
We find our mission,
And walk in the Light.
I am weary,
my eyes bleary;
I drag around,
without a sound;
I have no home,
so off I roam;
I beg for food,
my shoes are glued;
on the mend,
I seek a friend.
Worldly
anxiety
chokes
all joy,
and
strangles
all peace.
When liberty is
divorced from responsibility,
it dreadfully descends in a
dizzying death spiral of
selfishness.
But when liberty
is married to responsibility,
it courageously spirals upward
in a heroic flight of
freedom.
We must avoid the
stale cookies of selfishness,
for they crumble
into complaints;
but with the Eucharistic
bread of thanksgiving,
we can then live like
the holy saints.
Q-war-reling:
even the fearful word
forebodes a future filled
with deep darkness;
impatience heats to
simmering anger
then it boils over into
raging revenge
then it ignites into
bloody battles
then it explodes into
world wars.
A HOUSE BUILT ON ROCK
A humble home was built
On a foundation of faith,
In the Town of Trust,
In the Province of Prudence,
On the rugged rock of
Divine Mercy:
The wild waves awoke
Like ferocious beasts
And beat against the
Formidable fortress,
Wailing with watery fists,
But all to no avail --
Nothing could harm
This holy house of Love.
A HOUSE BUILT ON SAND
A castle of carousing was built
On a lazy beach in
The City of Cool,
In the Province of Popular,
On the slippery sand of
Foolish fragile fear:
Then, a voracious tidal wave,
Like a savage swarm of
Paranoid piranha,
Chewed apart the castle,
And a furious flood
Of thick red blood
Poured out in torrents,
Turning the green one red.
Inspired by Venerable Fulton J. Sheen
The divine
sense of humor
makes us laugh,
Without it,
life is just
lived to the half;
We are happy,
and we smile
with good cheer,
For the Lord’s
perfect love
casts out all fear.
Like an aggressive squadron of
Enemy fighter jets, a flurry of
Problems is rapidly approaching
My sector in attack formation;
In my anxiety I am tempted to take
Them on all at once, but, instead,
I veer off to the right and one breaks
Off from the pack and follows me;
I take my adversary into the Light
And he is utterly blinded by it, so
I launch the missiles of patience
And love until he is destroyed;
One by one, I do the same with
The other challenges until, finally,
The spiritual airspace is clear, then
I praise the King of the Universe.
The Dark One
Attacks me,
So I put on the
Armor of God,
And live the fruits
Of the Spirit:
Thanksliving,
And I am safe;
This quick shift
From offense
To defense,
Helps me to
Hold my ground
On Jesus the Rock.
I returned to Jesus,
like Magdalene,
sobbing, my tears
trickling, I kissed
the wounds
on His hands,
on His feet,
on His side,
on His head,
the wounds that I,
yes, I myself,
inflicted upon Him,
and with gentle
compassion
He raised me up
on the third day,
embracing me
with His Holy
Spirit of Love.
We all deserve execution,
To be nailed on a cross of wood,
We all deserve exile in hell,
For only God is purely good;
He chose to take our place in death,
Bloodily stabbed into the tree,
He paid the price to rescue us,
For only He can set us free.
Powerful and impressive and majestic,
The Sun’s luminous rays reach out
Towards the distant outer rim,
Where the darkness is pervasive,
And where evil breeds in the
Black cloud of never-ending night.
Disappointed and disillusioned,
In the dark night of discontent,
Sad souls long to fill the void
Of the black hole in their hearts,
So they search for truth and beauty
At the center of the universe.
Patient and gentle and merciful,
The Son’s compassionate glance
Seeks souls empty and broken,
And they are attracted by the
Gravitational pull of His joy and
The ecstasy of His eternal love.
Pride is a red dragon that tries
To kindle our sinful souls with
The flaming fires of falsehood,
Causing our egos to swell with
The helium of haughtiness;
But thanksgiving is a weapon,
A weapon of heavenly wonder,
Used by the Holy Family when
There was arrogance in the air;
So when we are praised for some
Fine worldly accomplishment,
Then we too should turn to the
Lord God, and, with a little smile,
We should frequently thank Him
For each of His gracious gifts,
And seeing our happy hearts filled
To the brim with gratitude, behold,
The devil dragon flees in terror.
The angels seek the lazy,
inviting them into the Light,
But the slothful are sound asleep,
and their sad souls are dark as night;
The good angels show compassion,
and they stretch out their loving arms,
Yet since the sluggards ignore them,
they sound the angelic alarms.
When spiritual storms
Strike unexpectedly
In my unsuspecting life,
With the wind thrashing,
And the waves crashing,
Splashing the saltwater of
Fear coldly on my face,
I go to wake up the Master,
Who is sleeping in the stern,
He asks with a smile on his lips,
“Why are you terrified?”
He startles me with reason,
And gently awaits my faith,
Speaking His Holy Word,
He suddenly brandishes
The Sword of the Spirit,
Which, like a Lighthouse,
Shines red and white
With His ineffable Divine Mercy --
Now my eyes can finally see
The Light in the dark night.
humility is
understanding
that i am nothing more
than a bag of bones
who recognizes The Truth.