Monthly Archives: April 2012
Last night at bible class, we were studying Psalm 23 and while we were reading, various pictures would cross my mind. I thought I would share which ones in this post:
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures
he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies
thou anointest my head with oil
my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
For my Bible class last week, we were all asked to write a personal Psalm as we are studding the Book of Psalms. Here is mine. I hope you enjoy.
My Beloved, Abba Father
How can I measure You my Papa; You are the Measure itself
There is no reason to measure the Ruler, nor a measure large enough to do so
You my Lord are the Actions of Love, the very Essence and Love itself
The Space between the written Word from start to finish and the words in which You have not yet given to man to use .
The very action of my eyes opening in the morning, to worship You, is You Lord. You command my eyes to open; they listen to You my Lord
The motion of my rolling over to join the day, was Commanded by You before I was born, so I may do Your will.
I tremble at scent of fresh earth, tilled in the early morning before the dawn in my heart. It reminds me Lord, You allow the tiller to perform, My God, breaking new ground within my own soul, planting new hope where only despair had grown before. Breaking the hardness and turning over the soil of my creation, to improve Yours.
My thoughts are but an echo of the tractors in the valley but Your actions are that of enabling the seeds You have sown, to be planted and to flourish.
If I drop a seed of folly, it does not grow long before You point it out to me as such. Allowing me to learn Your ways and to see the difference in the shape of the sprouts. Your sprouts grow straight, reaching up to You and the sprouts of folly are a twisted mess entangling everything in and pulling it back toward the ground to be trampled over.
Making my heart that was once stone, that of a fresh new flourishing place of abundance and joy to harvest that which is simply pleasing to You.
How often we hear today “Oh No! Our nation is heading exactly as Rome!” The Fall of Rome all over again!
How we forget, our Lord Jesus Christ was the One who conquered Rome and others….
And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it. Matthew 16:18
Oh Mary, conceived without sin. Pray for us who have recourse to you…
This morning, I received news that a woman I have become very good friends with, had passed away. She was the Vice President of the Legion of Mary, Mystical Rose out of my parish. She was a member of our parish for over 50 years. She was a pillar of the community.
I loved the conversations I would have with her about our Lord. To converse with her about our Lord and the experiences we shared, I will treasure the rest of my life. It was truly a blessing to know her on such a personal level. There was no fear of loving her, nor giving her back to our Lord. He took her very quickly and I can’t thank Him enough. Her name was Yvette. She was a soldier.
When I pray the final part of the Legion of Mary prayers every night, I know now I have someone I know personally that is included when I pray:
May the souls of our departed legionaries and the souls of all the faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace. Amen.
O Lord, grant those who have died the joy of Your Presence, and us who are living the happiness of knowing this. Amen
My King is but resting
At rest, He works to free those from captivity
Held in the abyss of death
Unlocking the door to eternal life
Gathering the souls entrusted to His Father
Oh the joy of the reunion with Abba
At the sight of St. John the Baptist
The Glorious trumpet blast announcing the King into Heaven
As we wait for Him to awake,
A Mother covered in her Sons blood, sits in sorrow
Sorrow only her Son can console