Saturday, March 13, 2004

Rosa Mystica

Rosa Mystica,
sweet mother
who touches our lives
with the that sweet fragrance
that comes only from
a perfect love of God,
O Maria,
sweet Mother,
teach us to love your Son,
thank you for loving us,
and when God calls us,
help us to always say yes.

Susan E. Stone, 2004

Friday, March 12, 2004

Lamps of Your LIght

Dear Lord,
in this sick and troubled world,
teach us to be lamps of your light.
Help us to avoid those words
which harm and not help,
help us avoid the need to be right
when in being right we maim and not heal,
help us to see the consequences of actions
that we had no idea might cause pain unneeded.

Teach us to be like you,
to help when others see only imperfection,
to lend our hands when others would run,
to love, even though we know it will hurt,
or even be the death of us,
in your name,
for your glory,
now and forever,

Susan E. Stone, 2004

Thursday, March 11, 2004

Prayer for the Victims of Evil
(on the occasion of the bombing in Madrid)

O Lord,
so many of your children
have fallen victim
to acts of hate,
and become targets
without warranting this,
except for the fact
that they are human,
and in the wrong place at the wrong time.

O Lord,
have mercy on this world
which would offer up on the altar
of politics
the lives of people
who aren't even aware
that some might think them enemies,
or suitable burnt offerings
for whatever cause it is
that has an angry,
bloodthirsty demon
that requires appeasement
of innocent blood.

Forgive us Lord,
for failing to spread your light,
live your teachings,
and stand up against the darkness.
Forgive us Lord,
in this sin-touched world,
when we make the anger worse
by choosing ways that make some wealthier
and others poorer,
by making lives miserable.
Forgive us
when we pass up opportunities to heal.

O Lord,
have mercy on those whose hearts are so shriveled
that they do evil in your name,
or who reject your claim to mastery,
or who are consumed with hate.

Have mercy on this poor world Lord,
where so much is done
in the name of evil
even as it is called good,
and may we, who love you,
be always open to be the tools
to do your will
and spread your peace.


Susan E. Stone

Night in the Garden

O Lord,
how the garden was filled
with moonlight peaking through the shadows
that last night.

How you suffered -
your desire to escape,
your grief,
your sure knowledge was in store,
the weight of sin,
all shadows trying to wrap themselves around you,
and yet you stayed,
obeyed the Father's will,
and saved us all.

O Lord,
how today my life is filled
with dark shadow trying to cloak the light
you give me,
my garden experience.

O Lord,
I offer you up my sorrow,
my pain,
my grief at sin, and failure, and weakness,
my groaning under loads I don't know how to bear,
my forgetfulness of your kindness,
my longing for escape.

O my Lord,
I am such a weak person.
Hold my hand each step of the way
as I walk through this valley of the shadow of death,
and though I sorrow,
I will fear no evil
for in the end, I know the light,
your light,
will lead me home to you at last.

Susan E. Stone, 2004

Wednesday, March 10, 2004

Meditation on the Hail Mary

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with You.
the gift of a loving God
who knew you before you were made,
who knew you would become
the woman you were created to be,
filled to overflowing
with the grace he gave you
to touch the lives
of those who call upon you.

Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus.
O highly favored one,
whoever has known the Lord
better than you,
who understand his smiles and frowns,
his laughter, his sighs.

Holy Mary, Mother of God,
Mother of the Lord,
and mother of his humanness,
he who is both God and Man -
O Ark of the Covenant!
Shaped by Love unfathomable,
She who says yes to God
then, now and forever!

Pray for us sinners,
now and at the hour of our death, Amen.

You are our mother,
who calls us constantly when we stray,
who searches for us as dilligently
as you searched for Jesus when he was lost,
who comforts all our sorrows,
come, dearest Mother,
and when it is time to leave this earthly place,
take our hand,
and lead us as gently to your Son.


Susan E. Stone, 2004

The Call

Today, O Lord,
my glib words fail me.
All the pretty phrases
puff away into dust,
and I am left
with the core reality.
I am so unworthy
to even touch the hem of your robe.

Yet even so,
you call me.

You pull me to the foot of your cross,
and say,
"Look, child,
this is what I did for you."

O mea culpa,
mea maxima culpa!
How the sorrow fills me,
that I too have nailed you there,
that I have wielded the whip,
laughed at your pain,
tripped you on the road,
spit in your face
with my sins,
my thoughtlessness,
my lack of love.

I weep for what I have done,
I weep for what we all have done,
all the evil done
and piled upon your shoulders,
who we should love
you who took it all
knowing how we are,
and self-excusing.

How could you love us,
and yet you do,
every day,
every hour,
every moment.

I let the bloodstained dirt
at the foot of your cross
run through my fingers,
I press my face
against the wood,
I cling tight,
with no words to ease my sorrow,
my pain,
my awe,
my need,
except to say,
"O Divine Love,
I love you,
teach me to love like you!"

Susan E. Stone, 2004

Tuesday, March 09, 2004

At The Foot of Your Cross

here I am,
once again,
at the foot of your cross.

All around me are the howling winds,
the darkness.

Like the Magdalene,
I cling to your cross,
my only anchor,
and press my cheek
against its rough
and bloodstained wood.

Here is the only shelter I know
as the hurricane blows.

I look up into your eyes,
eyes filled with such an intensity of love
that I cannot fathom it,
and all the tears of my misery
pour out,
grief and guilt and remorse and sorrow,
for what we have done to you,
what I have done to you,
and what you have chosen to do for love.

What have I to give
equal to the glory of your love?
naked as I feel
beneath the light of your love,
Yet I wish to give it all -
my aching and sorrow, my hope,
my wisdom, my voice, my everything
all for you -
such a small offering in return
for what you have given,
but like the widow's mite,
thank you for letting me offer it.

at the foot of your cross,
let me make my stand,
now, and always.

Susan E. Stone, 2004

True Value

Thank you for the grey days
when happiness
and pleasure
and joy
seem to be hidden,
for they teach me
that the things I think give me pleasure
are not the true treasures,
that the joy I find in people and play
is not the true joy,
and that the things of this earth I want to value
are not the true treasures.

In you, O Lord,
let me find my treasure.
In you O LOrd,
is the true wellspring of joy,
In you O Lord
is the steadfast love and happiness
to heal my aching heart.

When all is dust,
You are rock.
When all disappoint,
You are there to hold me.
When all else proves false,
You are the bedrock
that will hold me safe from all storms.

O Lord,
My light and my salvation,
keep me always in the palm of your hand.


Susan E. Stone, 2004

Ninth Station of the Cross: Jesus Falls the Third Time

How hard that final rise was,
Step by step up the hill,
how hard you had to cling to life,
how hard you had to cling to consciousness,
hard hard each breath,
each jarring step.
Even with Simeon carrying your cross,
the ground came swoop up,
and you tasted the dust,
felt the pavement one last time,
falling one last time
to panic the centurion
into thinking you would die
before they could kill you..

Only your burning love
burning like an eternal flame
echoing down the ages
stood you up that last time,
pushing away
the effects of shock,
and dehydration
and beating,
to crest the hill
for your final glorification.

Susan E. Stone, 200r

Monday, March 08, 2004

To Our Mother of Sorrows 

O Mother of Sorrows,
how often I come here and kneel at your feet,
and see those sorrow-filled eyes
staring up
at the suffering and battered
face of your son,
and still,
you are able to take my hand,
and give it that little squeeze
that says, Have courage.

O Mother of Sorrows,
How often I come here,
and weep all my misery out on your shoulder,
filled with guilt and grief and remorse,
knowing full well the burden
that I have laid on your blessed Son's back,
and still you hold me close,
and comfort me.

O Mother of Sorrows,
How often I have come here,
wanting to comfort you
in your sorrow and your loss,
and found myself overcome with remorse and sadness
over what your son
chose to do that I might live,
and find myself comforted by the one I longed to aid.

O Mother of the Word Incarnate,
Thank you for despising not my petions,
but in your mercy,
hearing and answering me.


Susan E. Stone, 2004

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Be Thou My Strength

Dear Lord,
I have no strength of my own,
be thou my strength.

Dear Lord,
I have no peace of my own.
Be thou my peace.

Dear Lord,
I have no refuge of my own.
Be thou my refuge.

Keep me always in the palm of your hand,
for my hands are frail and weak,
and naught but dust
sifts through them,
to be caught in the wind
and blow away.

Be thou my light,
for without you to hold me
there is only darkness.


Susan E. Stone, 2004

Sunday, March 07, 2004

Prayer for Forgiveness

Dear Lord,
forgive us all the time
we overlook the obvious,
of how our words
and actions
and the feeling of our hearts
come nowhere near meeting
the intentions we claim to have.

Forgive us
for all the time we sing songs
of greatest love and devotion to you,
then go away,
thinking they are merely words,
and not promises of how we believe,
or should act.

Forgive us
for all the time we claim
we detest our sins,
then go out and wrap ourselves
back in them,
like a familar, comfortable coat.

Help us, O Lord,
to match the intentions we claim
with our actions,
our heart,
our promises,
our love.
Without you, this is impossible,
with you, you can use us to transform
the face of the earth
with your love.


Susan E. Stone, 2004


O my Lord,
how often do we see you as we think you are,
put you in a box that fits our zone of comfort,
shape you to our heart's wishes,
try to make you behave the way we want.

And then, kindly,
you sometimes take away the veil,
and dazzle us with a glimpse
of who you really are,
with a voice like thunder
coming out of the cloud
of our confusion and misconstruing,
saying, "Listen to Him!"

O Jesus,
too big to put in any box,
too real to constrain,
beyond the boundaries
of any of our petty conceptions,
I fall on my knees in awe of who you really are.
Let me always hear your voice
calling me closer to you.

Susan E. Stone, 2004

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