Category: Poems

I look for little opportunities, for the smallest trifles, to please my Jesus: a smile or a kind word, for instance , when I would wish to be silent, or to show that I am bored. If no such occasion offer , I try at least to say over and over again that I love Him. This is not hard, and it keeps alive the fire in my heart. Even should the fire of love seem dead, I would still throw my tiny straws on the ashes, and I am confident it would light up again. – St. Therese of Lisieux

Little Deeds of Love

A glance of kindness
To keep the fire burning
A touch of patience
To keep the love alive

A word of courtesy
A nod of gratitude
A pat of consolation
To uplift the mood

A smile
A quick embrace
A kiss
Never miss one deed.

And you know
That all you need
Are these little things
To keep the love alive.

He set another parable before them, saying, “The Kingdom of Heaven is like a grain of mustard seed, which a man took, and sowed in his field; which indeed is smaller than all seeds. But when it is grown, it is greater than the herbs, and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and lodge in its branches.” – Matthew 13:31-32 (WEB)

Keep me as the apple of your eye. Hide me under the shadow of your wings… – Psalm 17, WEB

We can spend our lives trying to please people and trying to deserve their love. We can get used to this way of living and loving that we don’t know how to receive love anymore. Love that pursues us. Love that doesn’t ask anything from us except that we receive it with trust and open arms.

Someone Loves Me Now

I am used to loving
used to giving
used to doing things
for the one I love.

But I have yet to be used
to being loved
to being given everything
by the one who loves me.

How can I ever get used
to receiving so much love?
To being the apple of his eye?

When can I ever get used
to being still, being me,
being happy
even though I know
I do not deserve
all that he is giving me?

But I have to get used to love,
used to his kisses,
used to his warm embrace.

I am not the one
who decides now
how things must happen.
I am not the one
who does everything anymore.

There is someone now
who is there for me,
who sees me,
and who will take care
of all my tomorrows
just as much
as he takes good care of me
today.

Every time you feel hurt, offended, or rejected, you have to dare to say to yourself: ‘These feelings, strong as they may be, are not telling me the truth about myself. The truth, even though I cannot feel it right now, is that I am the chosen child of God, precious in God’s eyes, called the Beloved from all eternity, and held safe in an everlasting belief.”– Henri J.M. Nouwen

“To saints, their very slumber is a prayer.” – St. John of the Cross

Sleep Now, My Child

Sleep now my child,
day has passed
and night has come,
come and rest upon my arms.

You have done much,
you gave it your all,
and now it’s time
to walk your way home.

Weep not for your falls
or for things left undone,
Worry not for tomorrow
for it is yet to come.

You have done all you could,
you have done your very best,
It is enough that you trust me,
and I will do the rest.

You are my child,
whether you work or you slumber
I gaze at you and I smile
just because of what you are.

You are mine, all mine
I have borne you in love
and in love I draw you closer
even as you rest upon my arms.

It is vain for you to rise up early,
to stay up late,
eating the bread of toil,
for he gives sleep to his loved ones.
-Psalm 127, WEBBE

“Dear God,
I am so afraid to open my clenched fists!
Who will I be when I have nothing left to hold on to?
Who will I be when I stand before you with empty hands?
Please help me to gradually open my hands
and to discover that I am not what I own,
but what you want to give me.”
– Henri J.M. Nouwen

Before you give, receive from Him who has every good thing to offer you. Before you love, allow yourself to be loved.

It is only by being loved first that our love can be grateful, humble and pure. For we do not love anymore in order to be loved. We do not love in order to boast of our righteousness. And we do not love merely because we have an obligation to do so.

We love because we have been loved. We give because we have been given much. We make others happy because we are filled with joy!

There Is No Greater Love

You’ve got to allow God to LOVE You
From the very core of you;
Not the form that everybody sees,
Not the mask that you want
Everybody else to see.
You’ve got to allow God to enter
The innermost chambers
Of who you are;
To taste and see the real essence
Of your being,
Not the strength that gets sapped up
In your difficulties,
Not the outer beauty that ages
And soon fades away.
For you are not your height
Nor your stature.
You are not the color of your skin.
You are not your capabilities
Or your disabilities.
You are not the tone of your voice,
Or the power of your stride.
You are not your health,
You are not your sickness.
You are not your wealth,
Or the greatness of your name.
You are not your good deeds,
You are not your sins.
You are not the fears
That cripple you,
Or the courage
That makes you win.
You are whom God made you to be.
You are a spark from that
Unquenchable Flame.
You are His,
You’ve always been and always shall be.
You are the apple of His eye,
You are His delight,
You are the vessel that catches
The great outpouring of His love.
You are His beloved,
The one He awaits and longs for,
The one He teaches,
The one He leads,
The one He watches over
As you slumber,
The one He rejoices over
As you awake.
What greater joy is there than to know
How marvelous you are
In His sight?
What greater peace than knowing
You will never be alone?
That you are pursued,
That you are most of all desired
By the One who changes not,
And fails not
With all the burning passion of His LOVE!

We love him, because he first loved us. – 1 John 4, WEBBE

“Come to me, all you who labour and are heavily burdened, and I will give you rest.” – Matthew 11:28, WEBBE

There is a certain fear in trying to love too much. It is the fear of being rejected. The fear of not being good enough to be loved.

We do not always see it. We hardly realize it’s there.

But we feel it in the hurt when our love is not returned. We feel it in the exhaustion of giving everything and receiving too little, of doing everything and not having anyone to lean on to when we’re tired.

You know then that you have loved too much. Too much and too little. For though you have given much, you had so little left to withstand the pain.

For who has not loved and not touched pain? Knowing all the we shall ever love shall never be faultless, and not all shall return the love we have given them?

Loving Broken People

We cannot exempt ourselves from the world
while we are in the world,
and while we are in it
it is our lot to love broken men.
Yet how can we do it
when we are ourselves are broken,
and need to be assured
that we are loved
that we are accepted
for being the broken people that we are.
We cannot love a person
with an all accepting, transcending and encompassing love
without being hurt somewhat,
without being disappointed,
without being failed
of our expectations.
We cannot love
without being broken,
yet we cannot continue in love
without being stronger
than our brokenness.
It is only in Jesus
where we can find healing and strength
so as to continue in this love,
so as to continue suffering again and again
yet rise again and again
in a love that is far above
any expectations,
in a love that does not retreat
from any hurt
or any frustration,
but in a love that dares to dare
in a love that dares to dream
in a love
that never ever fails!

“The man who fears to be alone will never be anything but lonely, no matter how much he may surround himself with people. But the man who learns, in solitude and recollection, to be at peace with his own loneliness, and to prefer its reality to the illusion of merely natural companionship, comes to know the invisible companionship of God. Such a one is alone with God in all places, and he alone truly enjoys the companionship of other men, because he loves them in God in Whom their presence is not tiresome, and because of Whom his own love for them can never know satiety.” – Thomas Merton