This year I haven’t posted as often partially due to health reasons. Then this summer I went on pilgrimage to Fatima and Lourdes, then some other family traveling. So I thought I would post a few pictures, first of Fatima, later Lourdes. It was very special to be able to be in Fatima during the centennial year of the apparitions. It was also nice to be in places where my faith was not unusual. In other words, I felt at home.
Cast Your Light on my path, dear Lord,
That I may find You where You are,
Not where I wish You to be.
Take my hand and lead me
That I may not wander away
And lose You for even a moment
My Hand is here; take ahold of it,
For it is what I deeply desire.
My hand is wounded, pierced through, for love.
Will your tender hand join with My Wounded Hand?
Will you not turn away in pain and fear
If I share with you My Heart that suffers still
Or My Body that is wounded still?
When you draw back in fear
I am left so alone, abandoned again,
Hungering for one who would stay
And share intimately the sorrows and pains
Of my tender Heart of Love.
Will you take this Wounded Hand
And share this Wounded Heart?
Do not let go of my hand that is Yours,
For I desire most deeply all You are.
Hold me here tightly with You
In Your joys and Your sorrows, my Beloved.
For it is where I desire to be, always.
In Your Heart that I adore.
Child of My Heart, it is I,
The God of your longing,
Moving silently upon your heart.
Your thoughts so often fall upon Me
It arouses My Heart
To seek your embrace.
You can feel My Heart
So tenderly, so quietly.
Like the whisper of the wind
I am upon you.
Yet like the embrace
Of long-separated lovers,
I hold fast to your heart.
As I come upon you,
You stir to meet My Love
As our hearts become one
In the grasp of longed-for love.
Your face, my Beloved,
I see in all I encounter.
The beauty and immensity of Your gifts
Your Heart is there
Beating in the massive, powerful mountains,
Your breath in the breeze through the trees,
Your sweet fragrance is carried on the wind
To stir me to love You every moment,
To always know You are near.
You touch me in the warmth of the sun.
How can I be without You?
For You stir my soul to love You always
And for this Love I surrender all I am.
My Beloved Lord,
Heart of Sorrows,
Filled with tender longing,
You ask so humbly for my heart:
Will you take Me to you?
Will you tenderly hold Me
Close to your heart?
Comfort My Sorrow,
Take My sorrowful Heart to yours?
Will you hold Me tenderly close
Even as My thorns hurt?
Even if My Wound inflames yours?
Holding You so close hurts
As Your Sorrow becomes mine,
As Your Wounds become mine.
But as Your most tender of Hearts
Rests so gently in my heart,
A refuge from the pain and
Neglect of the world;
A refuge from betrayals and apathy,
Nowhere else would my heart be
But holding You deeply in my heart,
Immersed in the Sorrow and tenderness
Of Your loving Heart.
Just a note re: if you want more poems as a Lenten journey, you can scroll down and click on the subjects of Lent, Passion, Crucifixion, etc.
O Heart of Mercy
That captures my soul,
Break open my heart
Sending Your Spirit
Like shivering Fire
Into my soul.
O Wounded Lord,
Your Wounds melt my soul.
They pierce my heart,
Then carry it off into You.
My heart melts down
In the presence of
Your sweetest Wounds
And Your overwhelming desire
For my heart.
The tender strength
Of Your hand upon mine
Touched all that I am.
I gaze upon the deep cavern,
Baring bones, ripping flesh,
That marks where my weakness,
My failures, pierced the hand
Of my precious Beloved Lord.
Love beyond grasp of mind,
Sacrifice firing the furnace
That consumes all;
Tremor of Love that
Shakes my soul.
Heart pressing against heart
Your Sacrifice of Love
Upon all that I am.
My heart opens to,
My soul embraces
The overcoming Love
Of my Savior.
Softness of Love
Transforms a tortured Body
Into a soft, tender holocaust of Love
On the altar of our hearts.
Your precious Wounds
Press against my soul.
My heart overflows with adoration
As I bend to kiss
The wounded feet of my Master.
Every tender Wound on Your Suffering Body
Churns my heart in its grasp of Love.
My heart a fountain of tender devotion
Longs to love with all I am
The tender, sweet Savior
Whose Heart pours forth in unearthly Love
And so silently, lovingly, sweetly accepts
Each piercing Wound
As if it were the kiss of Love.
So perfect this Savior’s Sacrifice,
His soft surrender in Love
Is seen as weakness
By those who fail to understand
The Love of the Beloved,
The Precious Life in death.