My soul surrenders to
The Spirit’s tender embrace,
And Love sweetly surges
Through my being with the
Warm wine of holiness;
With indescribable delight
My humbled heart
Bursts with heavenly joy,
Burning with passion for
The Crucified Christ,
Yearning for union with
The Divine Mercy.
O most precious Sacred Heart,
Pierced by Longinus’ Roman dart;
Your blood flows through all the land,
Quenching our thirst in the desert sand;
Divine Mercy’s sweet love conquers all,
No matter how many times we fall;
Your heart can help the blind to see,
Even a sinful soul like me.
In the deep dark night,
The swirling black sky
Of sadness and despair
Seems never-ending,
And the wild winds
Of worry and woe
Scream in pain,
But the Morning Star,
A beacon of hope,
Sweetly rises in my soul,
Whispering the truth
With its happy light:
“Have faith, my child.
The darkness will not last.
The Divine Mercy is near.
So be patient and trust Him,
For the Son always rises!”
Inspired by St. Francis of Assisi
True joy
Is Divine Mercy
In the dark night
Of the cross.
Jesus, I wait for You!
Jesus, I watch for You!
Jesus, I trust in You!
Very few know the Dark Night,
Like St. John of the Cross,
But more of us may experience
An Eclipse of the Son:
For a short period of time
We don’t see Him,
We don’t hear Him,
We don’t feel Him,
But in the dark sky
The dazzling corona of
Pure Light reminds us
That Jesus is silently there,
Wearing His crown of glory,
Yet in a twinkle of time
It is over and He is waiting
To embrace us with the
Sweetness of divine mercy --
I patiently trusted, clinging
To the hope of the Resurrection,
And soon my blind eyes were
Opened once again by the
Brilliant Light of Love.
It’s early morning and
the crafty enemy
crouches and waits,
like a hungry lion ready
to devour my world,
with worthless worries;
in the neutral zone,
transitioning out of sleep,
I lie in bed with my eyes closed,
and my mind gradually
awakens into the
nebulous fog
of fear.
My day begins
in the dark night of unknowing.
The enemy tries to strangle me
with multitudinous doubts:
about time,
about interruptions,
about irate people,
about conflicts,
about coertion,
about expectations,
about performance,
about success,
about reputation,
about ability,
about sales,
about money,
about choices,
about decisions,
about relationships,
about rejection,
about knowledge,
about honesty,
about truth.
The fog of failure threatens
in the dark night of unknowing.
With my eyes still closed,
still in the neutral zone,
I am in the darkness;
but the Light is there,
though my mind’s eye
cannot yet see it,
so I reach out in faith and
place myself in the presence
of the good God,
then I invoke the Holy Spirit,
and in my mind
I sing a hymn of praise;
suddenly, through the cloudy mist
like a distant diamond
I see the sparkling of the
Morning Star.
The Light twinkles
in the dark night of unknowing.
Our Lady sweetly
and gently
draws near to me,
in a tunnel of dazzling
Son-shine;
she warmly smiles at me
with her angelic aquamarine eyes,
and her soft hair
and her majestic mantle
blow in the balmy breeze
of the Spirit;
and she lovingly clasps
her own warm hands
around mine,
and then tenderly
embraces me,
with the limitless love
of the Lord.
The Light shines
In the dark night of unknowing.
Next she places a radiant
little candle
in my right hand,
and points to her only Sun,
Christ the Courageous;
she sweetly whispers to me,
and then, together,
we humbly kneel down
and offer prayers
of complete surrender
to Our Lord and King --
the flame of my little candle
dances with delight.
The Light bursts forth with
merciful rays of red and white
in the dark night of unknowing.
Then the fog of fear evaporates
and my heart leaps
with confident joy.
The dark night of unknowing
has been triumphantly
transformed into
the bright light where
God’s love is flowing:
Jesus, I trust in You!
Inspired by Bishop Robert Barron
I thirst for Beauty,
Dazzled by her loveliness,
But when I find her,
I realize that I also hunger,
Hunger for Goodness,
So I try to establish a
Meaningful relationship
With Beauty, looking for
Goodness in her,
Yet even these two things
Do not give me fulfillment,
For I also need to find Truth;
But when all three blend
Together in holy harmony,
Then, only then, do I find
The Love, the Joy, and the Peace
That I have been searching for –
In the touch of the Divine Artist.
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 f we are patient and trust,
He refines us and perfects us,
Making us a masterpiece.
With murderous
Menacing eyes,
Blitzing linebackers
Aggressively attack
The line of scrimmage
With their worldly temptations,
And threaten to tackle me hard
And intercept my attempts
To remain in Jesus’ love,
So I quickly step back
Into the crumbling pocket,
And though distracted
By the waving arms
Of the wild intruders,
I am filled with the Spirit,
I joyfully sing to the Lord,
I give thanks to Him always,
I pray, hope, and don’t worry,
I am courageous and not afraid,
I do whatever He tells me,
I come to Him and I am refreshed,
I am filled with patience and wisdom,
I have the divine sense of humor,
I have true joy in the dark night,
I fix my gaze on the Passion,
And I have great trust in Divine Mercy;
So I throw a prayer of love
With all my might
High into the Heavens,
Confident that Our Lady will
Snatch it from all the defenders,
Which she always does;
She leaps ever so high into the air,
Like the most elegant ballerina,
Making the Immaculate Reception,
Then she flies like an angel
Down the sideline and
Kneels in the end zone,
Bringing my heartfelt prayer
Before our Lord and King.
Touchdown.
I quietly and invisibly
live my faith,
and accept life’s
incessant curveballs;
I am obedient to my
Manager’s wish for
bunt singles
instead of home runs.
The people of the world
are sitting in the box seats,
busied with food
and other amusements;
living in another world,
they have no idea
what I’m doing
in the batter’s box.
But Our Lord, Our Lady,
and the heavenly court
happily cheer me on
from the upper deck;
I live my life in the
shadow of the cross,
living in the dark night
of the unseen.
Dearest Jesus,
King of Divine Mercy,
During this Hour of Mercy,
Help me to slow down my life,
To let go all of my worries,
And to give them to Our Lady,
So that she can gently lay them
At the foot of your cross;
And so I humbly place myself,
Lovingly and wholeheartedly,
In your most holy presence —
Help me to recall your passion,
Your painful bloody passion,
And how much you suffered,
In the agony in the garden,
In the scourging at the pillar,
In the crowning of thorns,
In the carrying of the cross,
And in the crucifixion,
So that I may better understand
How much I have wounded you
With all my sins!
And so, as I stand at Golgotha,
Watching the blood and water
That flow from your side,
I approach this Sea of Mercy
With great trust —
Please fill my heart
To overflowing measure
With your unfathomable mercy.
Amen.
I always wanted to be a starter
and have all the glory, but,
instead, the Divine Manager is
wisely asking me to be a
good and faithful pinch hitter
in the dark night;
Our Lady explains to me
that as a pinch hitter
my priority should be
to wait for the interruptions —
to look forward to the interruptions —
because that’s a way that
I can make God first in my life;
she reminds me that
through the powerful
Prince of Patience
I will have the time
for whatever God wills --
then, when my time
finally comes, I’ll be ready:
as the opposing pitcher
fires a fastball right down
the middle of the plate,
I will steadily stride forward
with holy strength,
and with a swing that is
smooth and confident,
yet filled with humility,
I will line a single to center field;
I will look at Our Lady,
who will be cheering me on
from the dugout and
as I stand on first base,
I will cheerfully smile at her,
and my heart will be rhyming
to the rhythm of the Spirit.
My heart is ready, O God:
Tuus totus ego sum;
I take batting practice,
and the crisp crackle of
my maple-wood bat echoes
throughout the stadium.
Then, leading off the game, I hear a soft
sweet voice: “Do whatever He tells you”;
therefore, when I see the Spirit signal,
I gently lay down a regal bunt that
humbly dies to itself in the grass as I run
to first base like a strong driving wind.
As I stand on first base, with a
smile on my face from ear to ear,
my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for in my surrender I start to love;
however, The Beast, seething in hot
anger, already plans his revenge.
When I return to home plate,
The Beast strikes me out
over and over and over again
with the flaming fastballs of fear,
and I fall, carrying a heavy cross,
dizzy with discouragement.
My Manager benches me in the chapel,
but lovingly teaches me to fast from fear
and leave my worries in His loving hands,
so for three days I return to the chapel,
for ten minutes daily, to ask for His guidance,
and receive the Spirit's gift of Divine Mercy.
When I return to the lineup, The Beast
scornfully glares at me from the mound
with his mean menacing black eyes;
but I hear a papal voice encourage me:
“Non abbiate paura,” and again,
louder, “Non abbiate paura!”
By God's grace, I stand with great trust in
the batter’s box, and I hit a shooting star
whose sparkling trail is red and white,
quickly shattering the dark night,
and as the ball soars high over the wall,
the angels playfully dance around it.
My Merciful Manager
hands me the ball,
and I take the mound
in the ninth inning
since our team is
ahead by one run.
After going to confession,
I devoutly pray Lectio Divina
for thirty minutes, and then,
free from all affection for sin,
I say an Our Father and Hail Mary
for the Holy Father’s intentions:
thus, I pitch a supersonic fastball
that crisply crackles in my
All-Star catcher’s glove --
the first hitter strikes out,
with an aggressive
swing and a miss.
Next, during the Offertory
at Holy Mass, I offer up the
intention for a plenary indulgence —
for a specific individual, or for
whomever Our Lady chooses:
I swiftly snap off a
knee-buckling curveball --
the second hitter in the lineup
strikes out, frozen
like a cement gargoyle
as he watches the baseball
bend over the strike zone.
Finally, I receive Holy Communion
and, in a total gift of self, I devoutly
seek union with Our Lord and King:
and so, I release a knuckleball
that dives through the air
like the Dove of Divine Mercy --
the third hitter in the lineup
strikes out, waving his bat
helplessly, hopelessly,
missing it by a foot.
Suddenly a happy soul
speeds across the dark sky
like a bright shooting star,
streaming red and white
in unimaginable exhilaration,
escaping the pains of Purgatory
and finding the pleasures of Paradise;
then my All-Star catcher,
the sweet Lady of Love,
leaps into my waiting arms,
joyfully embracing me
with the kiss of peace,
to celebrate yet another
heavenly save in the
Kingdom of Divine Mercy.
San Padre Pio: “Lord, give me my weapon.”
When I squeezed the rosary beads with
My tense fingers, my soul was bone dry;
I pitched too fast, in a hurry to get the
Game over with as soon as possible.
I pitched my prayers with fear, and they
Wildly eluded the spiritual strike zone;
I needed you, Madonnina, to teach me how to
Pray the Holy Rosary and Divine Mercy Chaplet.
You taught me to pray more passionately,
Through the loving power of the Holy Spirit:
Sweet spiraling curveballs in holy meditation,
Swift sparkling fastballs in holy contemplation.
So I’m learning to pitch my prayers with
Sincere love, for all nine innings,
And you, my darling catcher, faithfully
Bring my prayers to The Divine Mercy.
As I serenely sit in front of St. Peter’s
Basilica, I soak in the beauty of the piazza,
I look about my peaceful surroundings,
Drinking in the delicious glory of God;
Clusters of clouds casually waft by, so low
That they almost brush the top of the dome,
They pass by like eager pilgrims, Eucharistic
White against the bright blue sky.
Fresh flowers flow down on the white steps in front
Of the altar, like a colorful cascading waterfall,
I inhale the perfume of their sweet scent,
And I breathe in the Lord’s love;
The elegant church bells powerfully and
Rhythmically ring out God’s grandeur,
While the balmy breeze swirls around me
And compassionately caresses me.
Inspired by Michelangelo’s masterpiece
As I look up at the statue, I see Santa Maria,
as white as virgin milk, holding her Jesus;
She is the elegant embodiment of humble
Obedience and selfless compassion.
The Savior lay in the stately surrender of
Sacrificial love, in His mother’s majestic arms;
He is crushed, the weight of the world’s
Sin heavy upon His wounded body.
On the surrounding walls, the magnificent
Marble is a multicolored whirlwind;
The Holy Spirit beautifully swirls and
Soars through it in grace-ful agape.
Reflecting on God’s grandeur, I marvel
At the beauty that surrounds me,
The statue of the Pietà vibrantly reflects
The sweet sublimity of God’s mercy;
The nave floats in the swirling, variegated,
Multi-colored waves of a marble ocean,
And massive pillars of magnificent marble
Stand at attention like the Swiss Guards.
As the doors silently open, the Holy Father’s
Vehicle slowly rolls down the aisle,
And in rushes a breeze of heavenly hope
That placidly fills the sails of our souls;
I stand on my chair and see the saint whose
Faith defeated the dreary dark night,
As he kisses a babe, love ripples through
The crowd and rhymes in our hearts.
As I struggle up the steep path,
My legs now feel much heavier,
And I wonder if the view will really
Be worth the arduous journey;
I see a sage old man approach,
Bearded like one of the prophets,
When I ask if I should continue,
He winks at me and nods yes;
Finally, when I reach the summit,
I behold the Valley of Heaven --
I breathe the Holy Spirit into my
Soul, and then exhale a smile;
The snow-capped mountains
Glisten in the warm soothing Light,
As the teal-colored lake glimmers in
The Divine Mercy rays of the Son.
It is a bright beautiful morning in the
crisp clean air of the Canadian Rockies,
We ascend as I drive up a wonderfully
windy road past babbling brooks,
The two of us are together, in the car that
we affectionately refer to as the “Tin Can”;
After reaching the sunny summit,
we gently roll into the Valley of the Ten Peaks;
We finally arrive at the large lake and
look up at the regal ring of mountains,
Yet I feel slightly saddened because
somehow it’s less than I expected;
A lodge that looks like a big log cabin
stands silently like a sentinel near the water,
We decide to dine there and enjoy a
delightful bit of roast beef for lunch;
The savory flavor of my sandwich lingers
in my mouth, as I think about my morning,
I try to cunningly convince myself that
I’m not disappointed, but I know that I am.
Departing for our next destination,
I wistfully walk towards our little car,
But as I look to the right, I see a
tar-black hill with a winding trail upon it;
The people look like pilgrims as they
make their way up the mysterious mound,
Curiosity gradually grows within me as I
ponder, puzzled, where the path leads;
So I investigate and struggle up the steep
trail, tripping occasionally on rock and rubble,
But when I get to the top, I am frozen
with fascination as I behold the view;
Above me is a diadem of snow-tipped peaks,
gleaming with the glory of God,
Below me is the pristine lake, and it is
shimmering and sparkling like a gemstone;
It appears as if millions of emeralds
and sapphires have melted into liquid,
And the teal-green color of the
lovely lake is luminous in the sunshine.
My senses are suddenly soaked in the
Holy Spirit’s lasting love, and I feel Your beauty,
At this moment, nothing else matters,
and I only long to be close to You;
At this moment, I am oblivious to my past,
and I am oblivious to my future,
I am living in the eternal and
mystical present of the great I AM;
You are Holy Humility, You are
Magnificent Mercy, You are Limitless Love,
And with Your divine sense of humor,
You really are the God of surprises.