Anima Christi

Soul of Christ, sanctify me.
Body of Christ, save me.
Blood of Christ, inebriate me.
Water from the side of Christ, wash me.
Passion of Christ, strengthen me.
O good Jesu, hear me.
Within Thy wounds, hide me.
Suffer me not to be separated from Thee.
From the malicious enemy, defend me.
In the hour of my death, call me
And bid me, come to Thee,
That with Thy holy saints, I may praise Thee
Forever and ever.  Amen.

Author unknown - an eighth century prayer from Ireland

A West Virginia Memory

The hills are the basis of life in that land,
  Both as life given - and taken.

A harsh land with soft people,
  Yet, and also, a soft land with harsh people.

The land of my birth,
   With paths through the blackberry and greenbrier.
   Kind winds blowing gently of a song forgotten.

A greenness everywhere on her rugged slopes,
  And she gives forth her inner blackness
  As if a painful abortion of her babe within.
  All left to flow are her tears of acid.

The nights of West Virginia
  Mellow sharp lines and soaring peaks
  And the shadows embrace every living thing
  In her grasp till the dawn.

So much time I have spent in those hills,
  In games, thoughtful solitude,
  In the questions of life.

West Virginia is not bound by rivers and streams,
  For we all come from a land
  That calls from within us,
  To find greenness once again.

by Thomas Chapman

I thank you, Thomas and Brenda, that we have been able to share our lives, even if it is from a distance.  We appreciate your friendship.    

At Mountain Sunrise

I see the mountains

I see the sunrise

I feel the wind

And I see Your eyes.

Beautiful are they

That shine upon

This quiet and peaceful land.

Wondrous is Thy grace at dawn

Held in the palm of Your hand.

I see Your creation

I see Your care

I feel the change

And I see the pair.

Walking forth both

Hand in hand

Singing out a brand new song.

Gazing deep into their eyes,

You see the love that does belong.

You see Your creation

You see Your love

You feel our thanks

And you send the Dove.

Beautiful It settles

Down upon

Our quiet and waiting spirits.

Wondrous is Its grace at dawn;

We have no need to fear It.

I see the mountains

I see the sunrise

I feel the wind

And I see Your eyes.

Beautiful are they

That shine upon

This quiet and peaceful land.

Wondrous is Thy grace at dawn

Held in the palm of Your hand.

by Nathan Dunlap  2-6-1989

Lasting Peace

Peace, like a rock rollicking down a river,
   Flowing with the current,
   Tossing and turning
   In the churning waters,
   Pulled only one direction,
   Steadily moving forward
   Evermore.

Peace cometh by surrender.
   I place all I have
   Into Your loving hands
   To do as You will
   Knowing I am safe
   To trust Your love
   Forever.

by Julie Dunlap  8-15-2011

Paradox of Christ

Black is everything, white is nothing - black is nothing, white is everything.
Contemplate deeply, glance at the surface.
Truth lies in this contradiction.

Just look at a keyboard, a starlit sky, a soccer ball, a bride and groom, a charred marshmallow,
a newspaper, a panda bear. Ponder, wonder; see over and under.

The earth is a grey area, hiding the truth in a rainbow.
Colors absorb us - blue, green, yellow, orange, red - multiple shades in between.
     A variety of fruits to satisfy our senses
     Delicious
     Paint mixed to bring life to a picture
     Artistic
     Rolling hills with scattered clusters of wildflowers
     Magnificent

Look beyond these golden treasures to
     A family shivering outside their burning home,
     An old man with an empty stare on a park bench day and night,
     A young woman who is thrown around relentlessly,
     A child whose silent cries are ignored, left alone to starve,

 And God, who was nailed fast to a tree,
 That all may choose the path of the free.

by Julie St. John   Fall, 1987
   

Come to the Water

Come to the water; we will swim side by side.
   I know you are thirsty; this you cannot hide.

She comes to the edge and slowly descends,
   Clings to the ladder tightly. I encourage her again.

Come to the water; we will swim side by side.
   I know you are thirsty; this you cannot hide.

She peers at the still water, fear lies deep in her eyes.
   Will the darkness pull her under if she decides to try?

Come to the water; we will swim side by side.
   I know you are thirsty; this you cannot not hide.

Taking hold of my hand, we slowly float out,
   Enjoying the cool refreshment as she forgets her doubts.

She came to the water; we swam side by side.
   Splashes of laughter echo all around; her joy she cannot hide.

by Julie St. John, summer of 1987

To Glory Mooring

To Glory Mooring I travel this sorry road,
There a certain Gospel Ship is destined, I am told,
For a great metropolis with streets of gold.

Early set I out to catch the morrow's evening ride.
It was no later than noon when I was joined by
     A stranger at my side.
"Fellow, why follow this difficult, wretched highway?
Know ye not that down yonder town, one may abide
Assured of his income and living with monetary pride."

"My good man," quipped I, "diverted I must not be.
For should I dawdle to gain earthly spoils,
Sorrow I shall straightway see.
Lest without me my ship should surely flee.

Onward I trekked ignoring hunger, exhaustion, and pain,
Stooping down occasionally to drink from a stream of rain.
Nearer I drew to a somewhat cozy cottage-inn,
Where rest is given to the weary soul of such migrating men.
Since established by the Comforter,
To this haven I gratefully came after.

Next morning I again pursued my mission
Til accompanied by a man of carelessness and sinful submission.
"Why not take the shortcut to pleasure, young man?
Mind not your future nor your present condition.
Would it not be easier just to have fun disregarding the end."

"Have I come this far just to give up when my journey shall end with evening light?
Family and friends?  My heir and my hire?  Possessions and position?
Naught are these to such a fairer and grander sight.
I will run this race, and I will fight this good fight,
To obtain a garment of snowy white."

Now, over yonder escarpment shall I shortly arrive
To board the ship that will set us free captained by the Prince of Life.
Do journey here with effervescent haste,
To the only glory-bound docking place.

By Caleb Calcine,  Sept., l997