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Sunday, April 24, 2011

Easter Morning 2011

Am reminded to search for poem that was response to vision of 1994, with poem kind of flowing out in 1995.  There is no time in God even though He created time for our ordered benefit while on earth.

Reading this again brings tears to eyes once more, as am continuing praying what spiritual director asked.  Jesus, I am willing, ready and able to do whatever You want me to do in Your Church, and please show me what that is.

Have been suffering much in various ways during Holy Week.  Friday in bed but improved hourly on Saturday, enough to be present in body at Easter Vigil.  Having prayed much for new bishop, at least brought a sense of bonding and understanding, very deep understanding of what has been shown.  Pray for his mission.

These lines remind me, and perhaps reflect the answer to the prayer, but will keep praying, adding on to please, Jesus, show my spiritual director, also, what it is that You want of me for the Church.  In the meantime, the sense of being outside looking in, continues, and the stiffness of priests who have scrutinized the state at Mass for a long time, is painful to bear.  The poem, yes, reminds me why it is as it is.  Thanks be to God for my spiritual director who is now comprehending the pain but tells me Jesus is very near even though it seems I have fallen far, gone backwards.  The guilt of failure?  He says do not go down that road; it is a bad road.  I will take this poem to heart, for it came from His Heart through my heart, and even now I see how I have sought elsewhere, even written other, than from His depths.


Listen to My Blood


Listen to My Blood, I tell you:
That's why I drew your ear to My wounded side,
pressed your ear into My Self, so you could hear
the message of suffering sacrifice,
so you could sound out My pain and know that you are not alone,
and know that My blood speaks for you and all who love Me enough to listen.

Listen to My Blood!
And you will hear the rhythm of the universe coursing through your veins from Mine,
whispering secrets of divinity,
of My loneliness and persecutions,
of My physical and mental torments.
Oh yes, I felt all human stirrings of desire and held My heart out to this world
of beauty, sensation, and tempting wonders.

But listen to My blood, you mortal--
you who would wish not to suffer so on one level yet yearn to be
one with My blood for now and ever--
listen well, for My blood flows into you and fills you with powers of forgiveness,
healing, hope, belief, and love,
and nourishes you with the peace to seek and find Me within your human heart.

Listen to My blood and smell its sweetness,
like the sickening pain so sweet that it seems unnatural for you to suffer so,
but I tell you that the strength of My blood cleanses your weakness,
washes your fears into the deep veins of faith,
floods your longings with satisfaction,
gushes My greatness into your soul which now is weeping, now laughing with joy.

For My sorrows are your sorrows, My loneliness your loneliness,
My joy, My life's blood--all yours, My love who hears with bloodied ear.
My love, My love, do you know My Love? Just listen!


(jem, 1995 and yet today this is all the more so)

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