Inspired by St. Francis de Sales
O Lord of Love,
Through the heartfelt proclamation
Of your most Holy Word
I long for holy union with you!
O Lord of Love,
Through the child-like reception
Of your most Holy Eucharist,
I long for holy union with you!
O Lord of Love,
Through joyful thanksgiving
For your precious gift
Of divine mercy in the dark night,
I long for holy union with you!
Thank you, Jesus,
For the gift of your love!
Amen.
All too often,
especially in the past,
we have hated the sin
and hated the sinner,
thus marginalizing
entire races of peoples,
and this is neither good,
nor true, nor beautiful.
Nowadays,
in our upside-down
politically correct world,
we love the sin
and love the sinner,
thus glorifying everything,
and standing up for nothing,
and this is neither good,
nor true, nor beautiful.
Sometimes our world
is even more diabolical,
and we love the sin
and hate the sinner,
thus leading to the persecution
and martyrdom
of many, many Christians,
and this is neither good,
nor true, nor beautiful.
But sometimes,
by the grace of God,
we get it right:
we hate the sin
and love the sinner;
this is very, very good,
this is very, very true,
this is very, very beautiful.
Based on the Concept of St. Paul’s Fruit of the Spirit
When you are afraid,
Trust.
When you are sad,
Trust.
When you are agitated,
Trust.
When you are impatient,
Trust.
When you are angry,
Trust.
When you are selfish,
Trust.
When you are doubting,
Trust.
When you are demanding,
Trust.
When you are reckless,
Trust.
When you are foolish,
Trust.
Trust in Divine Mercy,
Trust always,
Trust.
Dearest Jesus,
King of Divine Mercy,
I place myself in your holy presence,
And I beseech you to inspire me
By the power of the Holy Spirit.
Give me your light,
And give me sight,
That I may gain
A perfect knowledge
Of myself.
With St. Augustine,
I cry out to you,
“Lord, let me know you,
And let me know myself!”
And with St. Francis,
I humbly ask you,
“Lord! Who are you,
And who am I?”
I protest that I do not wish
To learn of my progress
In order to rejoice in myself,
But solely to rejoice in you, dear God,
Because I do not wish to glorify myself,
But I only wish to glorify you, dear Lord,
And give you thanks.
I also protest that if I find,
As I fear I shall,
That I have made only a little progress,
Or none at all,
Or even that I have fallen backward,
I will not on that account
Be depressed or made cold
By discouragement or despondency
Of any sort.
On the contrary,
I protest that I wish to encourage
And animate myself all the more,
I wish to humble myself,
And I wish to correct my faults
By the assistance of your grace.
Amen.
Your fishing boat bobs up
and down in uncertainty,
As you reflect upon the
meaning of your life;
With a sterile stare you
gaze at the wobbly waves,
While the wonderful wind of
the Spirit is silently approaching;
A merciful Son of Man is
standing on the sandy seashore,
He is looking for his Rock,
to make him a fisher of men;
The breeze blows through
your stubborn dark hair,
As the Son of Man asks if He
can come aboard your boat.
As Jesus ascends, He disappears
into nebulous misty clouds,
You feel like a floundering
fisherman without his nets;
Without the Good Shepherd,
your heart seems hollow,
You now appear more like
a pebble than a rock;
But later, a deafening wind
whirls through the room,
And fantastical flaming
fireballs crown all present;
In divers tongues, all mystically
praise the good God,
And you proclaim the Word
with holy courage.
As you are cruelly crucified
upside-down on Vatican Hill,
Your life is brimming with
meaning and significance;
Your blood falls to the earth
like a myriad of mustard seeds,
Where the Church will
take root and grow strong;
You are the first link in
the precious papal chain,
An unbreakable chain dripping
with martyrs’ blood;
This chain will withstand
the hammering of heretics,
It will be like a fruitful vine
bringing Love to the world.
Good St. Joseph, you were sent
To be my wise knightly master,
So that through your assistance
I could reach Heaven faster.
Sweet and holy Queen, you are
So kindly patient and so humble,
The dark one terribly hates you,
For you make him trip and stumble.
Babe of the Incarnation, above you
Swirls the immaculate white Dove,
For now God enters His creation
To show the true depth of His Love.
St. Joseph the Silent Knight,
Holy man of common sense,
You preached the gospel,
Though often without words,
If you had the knowledge,
You answered your neighbor,
If not, then through divine wisdom
You put your hand over your mouth;
Teach me how to hold my tongue,
To follow the Spirit’s lead,
Instead of getting in trouble
By rashly running ahead of Him;
It’s pleasant to converse,
But it’s far better to be prudent.
Christmas,
The night of Christ,
The breathtaking eve when the
Babe of the Incarnation
Heroically came to save us.
St. Joseph,
The Knight of Christ,
The brave, holy man that the
Babe of the Incarnation
Trusted wholeheartedly.
You protected the Babe of Light,
In Bethlehem’s most Holy Night.
The magi in their wise hands hold
Both sweet frankincense and gold,
But your strong courageous arms
Save Baby Jesus from all harms.
You are the knight of the Dove,
And on that Holy Night met Love.
Hellishly bloody Herod the Hater
Fears that he’s not the greater,
But you, oh most humble father,
With vainglory don’t even bother.
You protected the Babe of Light,
In Bethlehem’s most Holy Night.
Your thick, wavy brown hair happily
Blows in the breeze of God’s will;
Your warm brown eyes twinkle with
Contentment, crinkling as you smile.
You protect the holy Babe from Herod’s
Hellish hands, which are dripping with blood;
In obedience, you help the Holy Family
Evade him and elusively escape to Egypt.
As a worker, you handle the wood of
God’s creation with gentle strength;
With industrious ingenuity, you use
God’s good gifts to serve others.
You shatter lustful temptation with your
Carpenter’s mallet of holy purity;
Then, as God’s valiant soldier, you slay
Selfishness with the sword of surrender.
In your loving example, you show little Jesus
how to be a good son to His mother;
With your humble heart, you teach Love
How to love, and the angels are amazed.
Our heads hung low,
Saddened and perplexed
By the troubling events just
Three days prior in Jerusalem;
My companion and I were
Searching for the missing piece
Of the Messianic puzzle,
Not realizing that it was less
Than a stone’s throw away;
Then, when we turned around,
We found a man who was both
Wise and friendly, and He too
Was on the road to Emmaus;
As He spoke to us over the
Next several miles, the fire of
Heavenly hope began to rekindle
Within our souls once again,
So we invited Him to sup with us
When we arrived in Emmaus;
After the sun set over the hills,
The stars twinkled with delight as
The Son suddenly rose in our hearts,
For when He broke the bread,
He smiled His very gentle smile,
And we felt as if we had been
Born again.
I turn around and before me you stand,
one whose robe is dazzlingly white,
As you speak my name and say “Mary,”
you forever shatter my deep dark night;
With great love, you bestow your peace upon me,
through your wonderfully warm brown eyes,
Your merciful smile cheers my heart,
so that my soul can most sweetly arise;
In the joyful breeze of the Holy Spirit,
your flowing hair very gently swirls,
In my heart I totally surrender to you,
and for you this is a treasure of pearls.
In a shadow of deep darkness, the Light
of the world hangs crooked on the cross,
A jagged crown of razor-thin thorns is
thrust maliciously into His throbbing head;
Bright-red blood and the fickle crowd’s
sour spittle trickle into His stinging eyes,
He licks His cracked lips, and He tastes
the bold bitter flavor of blood.
The Roman soldiers’ wild whips tore
and radically ripped Jesus’ holy flesh,
And now the sticky crusted wounds cling
to the weatherbeaten wood and ooze;
Knife-like nails puncture His hands and feet,
and make them look like cored apples,
His shoulders slump down, crushed under
the weight of every sin in human history.
The soldiers hellishly hammered the nails
into Jesus’ flesh, as if He were an animal,
Indescribable pain blasted through the
bones of His body like dynamite;
He now surrenders His body, mind, soul,
and spirit to the will of His Father,
He lovingly practices what He preached,
and He prays for His persecutors.
Jesus is high up, as if atop an isolated
island, surrounded by a sea of hate,
A cacophonous chorus of insults assails
His ears, and the smell of sin is in the air;
His mother, living in the dark night of
unknowing, silently waits and watches,
She kneels in total surrender, while a
sword of sorrow slashes her heavy heart.
In the afternoon, Golgotha is enveloped
in a mysterious murky darkness,
Then, when Jesus dies, the earth quakes
in violent anger at the murder of its Creator;
Rumbling and roaring, buildings catastrophically
crash and crumble to the ground,
The terrifying temblor forces the sanctuary’s
curtain to explosively burst apart.
That mysterious murky darkness remains
in the hearts of Jesus’ faithful followers,
Their entire worlds are seriously shaken,
and they are stunned and stupefied;
But on the third day, the nebulous fog
of uncertainty will finally dissolve,
On the third day, a heavenly ray of Light
will come, far brighter than the sun.
Staggering and stumbling
On the rocky Via Dolorosa,
My hands wearily and weakly
Cling to the splintered cross;
A Roman soldier lashes me
With a whirling crackling whip,
Which like a wildcat’s claw
Rips and tears my poor flesh;
My knees buckle and I fall,
My battered head striking the
Stubborn and unforgiving ground,
Forcefully thrusting the thorns
Deeper into my wounded skull;
My soul silently suffers
In the dark night of the cross —
And yet I’m doing this all for you,
Just for you, because I love you,
So dearly, so deeply, so divinely.
I love you, I love you
so very much,
more than you
can possibly imagine,
yet you carelessly
turn your back on me
and you ignore me,
living your busy life
as if I never existed;
now I kneel here
in this olive garden,
with my warm hands
clasped tightly together,
so deeply and so greatly
in love with you,
and my heart is breaking
because I want to share
my life with you,
my heart is nearly broken
because I love you,
and I painfully weep
hot tears for you,
and my sweat turns into
drops of blood --
all because of you.
Here we find the epicenter of the holy earthquake
that destroys the sin of the centuries.
In jubilation, I swiftly and silently cruise through
the cool, crisp air on this holiest of holy nights,
Up above, high in the heavens, is the star of all stars,
powerfully pulsating with bursts of joy;
Below, in the countryside, the shepherds’ fires
crackle with contentment near Bethlehem,
For the Christ child, the Prince of Peace, has been
born in a lowly little stable in the city of David.
I am flanked by a merry multitude of fellow angels,
as we prepare for our descent into little Bethlehem,
From the cloud tops we cascade downward towards
the manger, like a waterfall of invisible light;
The shuffling shepherds who were so startled to
behold us now adore their newborn king on bent knees,
And the majestic magi marvel at the humility of the
Blessed Babe, the long-awaited holy Messiah.
St. Joseph thoughtfully covers the mild mother Mary,
to help heat her on this very chilly night,
The joyful Virgin warmly welcomes little Jesus,
covering Him with her tender kisses and caresses;
Blissful baby Jesus beams a bright smile, covering all
present with His most peaceful benevolence,
And we angels swirl and dance, and exultantly sing
and rejoice and praise the glory of the good God.
The holy family will live in the dark night of the unseen,
centered in the Light of Limitless Love.
The storm strikes
In the hour of terror,
And the dark one
Ferociously tempts me,
Speedily swirling
In the winds around me,
Faster and faster,
Roaring loudly,
Trying to intimidate me
And make me act rashly.
But Our Lord Jesus
Takes His time,
And asks me to surrender,
To focus in a special way
On His sorrowful passion,
To have great trust
In His divine mercy —
And so he transfigures
The hour of terror into
The Hour of Divine Mercy.
As she serenely stepped out of the upper
room, she rejoiced in a fresh new day,
She looked about her peaceful surroundings,
drinking in the delicious goodness of God;
Clusters of clouds casually wafted by, so low
that they brushed the pinnacle of the temple,
They passed by like eager pilgrims, Eucharistic
white against the bright blue morning sky;
Later that morning, she and the Apostles were
deeply immersed in prayer when, suddenly,
She inhaled the sweet scent of God’s presence,
and joyfully breathed in the Lord’s love;
The balmy breeze of grace swirled around her
and compassionately caressed her,
She reflected on God’s glorious grandeur,
and His magnificence soaked into her soul;
Then, the Word rushed into them all,
as the Holy Spirit swiftly swooped down,
The bold beautiful breeze of heavenly hope
placidly filled the sails of their souls;
The Paraclete, like a powerful, whirling wind,
spectacularly sparked the wicks of their
Souls, and ignited the fire of love, which
rippled through and rhymed in their hearts;
Then, Our Lady’s heart was passionately,
preciously pierced by the sweet sword
Of the Spirit; her soul, suddenly
brimming with God’s majestic mercy,
Soared in a spiraling celestial
crescendo of God’s love for her;
With peaceful confidence, her heart,
like a fiery supernova, exploded with
Feelings of love, joy, and peace,
of patience, kindness, and generosity;
Her smiling eyes then beheld the
flaming fire of Love resting on all, and as
She serenely surrendered all to the Spirit,
like a giddy geyser she gushed
Torrents of light-hearted laughter
and happy, heavenly tears; this golden
Cascade of pure love poured over
her soul like a warm, wonderful
Waterfall of holy honey; deep down
inside, the Spirit was strumming on
The harmonic harp of her heart, and
she was deliciously, delightfully deluged
By this overwhelming ocean of Jesus’
magnificent mercy and love;
The Light of the World had scattered
and defeated the dreary dark night.
Eternal God,
In whom mercy is endless,
And the treasury of compassion
Inexhaustible,
Look kindly upon us
And increase Your mercy in us,
That in difficult moments
We might not despair
Nor become despondent,
But with great confidence
Submit ourselves to Your holy will,
Which is Love and Mercy itself.
Amen.
The canvas of my life
Is messy and sloppy,
Because I make mistakes,
So very many mistakes,
With my clumsy brushstrokes,
But, indeed, I am blessed,
Because the Divine Artist
Dips His cross-shaped brush
Into His most precious blood,
And paints and colors my life
With His divine mercy,
Patiently, joyfully, lovingly,
And transforms my life into a
Magnificent masterpiece.