Whispered sweetly,
Santa Maria’s “Yes”
Ripples and reverberates
Through the Halls of Heaven,
And the Spirit speeds through the
Atmosphere in a powerful pulse
Of gleaming, virginal white light
Into the humble House of Gold:
And, behold, The Divine Mercy is
Incarnate.
Trembling, I hid in your mantle, protected
From the dark night of unknowing;
You guided me up the steep, perilous path,
Towards the sparkling, starry heavens.
The demonic winds gusted, and with
Frightful ferocity thunder shook the air;
Serpentine lightning darted in the sky, and
Lava streams slithered down the slopes.
But then the Sun of God dazzlingly dawned,
And He put an end to the dark night;
Beams of bright light, both red and white,
Streamed soothingly into my soul.
Atop the summit, you took my hand,
And together we flew into the Light;
We laughed like merry little children,
Soaking in the sunshine of pure Mercy.
The Spirit of Love
Awakens in my heart
Like holy fire,
Burning away impurities,
Enlightening my mind,
Sweetening my soul.
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.
When we’re thanks-living,
We choose for living,
We choose for giving,
Lovingly for-giving.
Thanksgiving,
What a wonderful
Gift from God,
It seems to me like
An inexhaustible
Spiritual ocean of the
Dazzling, magnificent
Divine Mercy.
When we’re living,
In thanksgiving to God,
We’re living for giving,
Lovingly for-giving.
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.
At the Last Supper,
Judas left you.
He betrayed you.
But don’t we
Betray you too? --
When we make excuses,
And skip the prayers,
And skip the masses,
And skip the Eucharist?
For then we are falling,
Down, down, down,
Headlong towards
The open-throated
Abyss of doom
Which vomits forth
The flames of folly.
Instead, let us
Return to Him,
Our Father of Love,
To make a fresh
New start to our
Broken lives,
Let us fall
To our knees
And surrender to Him,
Let us fall
Into His loving arms
And embrace Him,
Let us fall,
Fall in love with Him,
Down in adoration falling.
Vince Lombardi: “Never, ever, ever, ever give up!”
Just as
there is
no sin
that
God
cannot
forgive,
so also
there is
no person
that
God
cannot
make
a saint.
Temptation tries to throttle me,
So why should I face him alone?
My guardian angel patiently waits
Until I confidently cry out to him,
Asking him to protect me
From all danger and all fear,
And joyfully joining him are the
Mighty and powerful archangels,
Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael,
They create a giant bubble,
Formed out of Our Lord’s
Fountain of Living Water,
And it shields me from the
Fiery darts of the evil one.
I’m like a ridiculous painted clown,
Juggling to-do’s, up and down
And back and forth, my life is a frantic
Intertwining of past, present, future,
In a tangled jungle of multitasking,
Weighed down by the heavy stress
Of guilt over my imperfect past and
Of worry over unknown tomorrows;
But life is so much easier when I
Zero in and focus on the great I AM,
Living perpetually in the present,
Juggling one little ball at a time:
Blessed are the single-hearted,
For they shall surely see God.
The Holy Spirit
Is very much like
A sweet beautiful
Monarch butterfly,
Delightfully dancing
With indescribable joy,
Bobbing up and down,
And then to and fro,
Gliding calmly upon the
Sweet swirling breeze of
God the Father’s will and
Into the heart of Jesus.
In silence,
I long to hear
God’s Word,
And feel
God’s presence;
So when worry wails,
When anxiety assails,
I remember that God
Smiles upon us,
Compassionately,
And holds the world
Like a precious pearl
In His holy hands.
It took a cannonball
For God to get your attention,
To teach you what it is
To be a true knight --
A knight of Christ;
And so He guided you
In founding the Jesuit order,
And as the Light shone through
The colorful prism of your mind,
You discovered God’s beauty,
God’s goodness, God’s truth;
May your Spiritual Exercises
Draw us more deeply into
The Sacred Heart of Jesus,
To be intellectually illumined,
To be socially sympathetic,
To be aesthetically alive,
To be spiritually strong.
Carrying my cross,
I take lumbering steps
up the steep mountain;
I grumble with every step,
like Job, wondering why
the Lord is asking me
to shuffle along, dragging
this heavy wood with me
wherever I go.
But then I come to
a dangerously deep
crevasse that threatens
to end my journey,
and even with a
giant Herculean leap,
I know that I would fall
down, down, down,
into the black throat
of the abyss below.
Suddenly, a white Dove
darts right past me,
causing me to jump back
from the edge of the cliff;
as I do so, the cross falls
forward so that its top
now rests on the other side,
forming a wooden bridge.
After I carefully crawl
to the other side,
I look back at the cross,
wondering if I should
kick it down over
the edge of the cliff,
but, instead, I choose
to slowly pick it up,
embrace it, and
faithfully follow
in the footsteps of Jesus.
Inspired by St. Francis of Assisi & St. John Paul II
Our Heavenly Father is the
Divine Artist, who paints
On the canvas of our souls;
When we surrender to Him,
He very gently and delicately dips
The brush of the Spirit into
The palette of the virtues,
And He colors our lives with Love;
But when we smudge our painting
With the charcoal pencils of our sins,
Then He paints over our faults with
The Blood of His Son’s Love,
For God is beauty,
And if we are patient,
He refines us and perfects us,
Making us a masterpiece.
You are The Vine,
and I am a little branch.
When I am proud,
I stubbornly cut myself
off from you, Lord,
and I remain in self-love,
without your grace
my branch dries up
and my fruit shrivels,
as my soul slowly dies.
But when I am humble,
I remain in your love,
and your delicious grace
surges through me and
thus my fruit sweetens,
as I am born again.
I am just a little branch,
but you are The Vine.
Christmas Day
Baby Jesus is born,
And through Our Savior
We can be born again daily;
Day by day each of us awakens,
Day by day the evil one tempts us,
Day by day Divine Mercy is victorious,
As we surrender to the God of Mercy,
As we trust the God of Goodness,
As we embrace the God of Love;
Thus, we are born again daily
If we choose life with Him,
So every day can be like
Christmas Day.
The whispering voice of
Our Lady of Love
Joyfully and peacefully
Fills my heart with Beauty;
Then, the strong clear voice of
The Father of Love
Patiently and kindly
Fills my heart with Goodness;
Next, the enthusiastic voice of
The Spirit of Love
Generously and faithfully
Fills my heart with Truth;
Finally, the compassionate voice of
Jesus, The Lord of Love,
Gently and silently
Fills my spirit with Divine Mercy,
And so I spiral through the Scriptures,
Ascending higher and higher
Into the realm of Divine Wisdom.
When we’re thanks-living,
We choose for living,
We choose for giving,
Lovingly for-giving.
Thanksgiving,
What a wonderful
Gift from God,
It seems to me like
An inexhaustible
Spiritual ocean of the
Dazzling, magnificent
Divine Mercy.
When we’re living,
In thanksgiving to God,
We’re living for giving,
Lovingly for-giving.
It was a memorable day for me,
The greatest of my young life;
I still remember the class photo,
Me and another boy were the only
Ones dressed in suits of white,
And I loved wearing white
For the first time in my life.
Then inside the old church,
I recall wondering to myself
What Jesus would taste like;
When the time came to go forward,
I stood in line, and when our turn came,
We kneeled at the communion rail,
Waiting for the good God to come.
There He was, my Lord and my God,
And He was dressed in white too;
I meekly opened my small mouth
To welcome the King of Kings,
And then Baby Jesus was gently
Placed by His Holy Mother
On the manger of my tongue.