11/27/22 Through 12/3/22

 11/27/22 Through 12/3/22

Sunday

Just how might I prepare the way?

How might I more His will obey?

How might I ready for the hour

When Christ shall come in might and Pow'r?

The humble way he comes today

And at the Mass of every day

Is in the form of bread and wine

To be consumed and be made mine.

These humble accidents received

Must be, in truth, our God perceived.

For though the form is humble bread

The substance is my God instead.

If I but simply turn from sin

And recognize whom I take in

By this, I well-prepare the way

For Christ to come that final day.

Monday

A man of pagan deities

Can see far more than most of these

Who studied faith from tender youth

But fail to recognize the Truth.

For first the ground must fertile be

For seed to sprout and root for thee

Then clear of thicket, stone, and weed

That all attack the sprouting seed.

The powerful must humble be

In order to Messiah see,

And Christ will answer to the need

Of humble, tender, sprouting seed.

Tuesday

Many longed to see this day

Longed to hear the words I say

Longed for peace in time of war

Longed to know God more and more.

In this day made known to you

My flesh in simple bread, it's true.

Blood poured out as sacred wine

Daily, precious gift of mine.

Come and feast on daily bread

Listen to the words I said

Let them foster change within

Turn from every deadly sin.

Empty here your base desire

Come with Me through cleansing fire.

Fear not loss, for what you gain

Dwarfs the loss and temporal pain.

Wednesday

To love enjoy the flesh must die

And thus destroy the evil lie

That carnal pleasures satisfy

If just a little more we try.

There's no amount of pleasure here

No hoard that will not disappear,

And what is left is what will last

When chattel owning time is past.

But oh, how hard to see that day

When pleasure here gets in the way.

The blinders cloud the vision far

Deceiving many who we are.

As children of the greatest King

We're offered here the finest thing

If lesser things we will forego

To One of every blessing know.

The sacrifice of Love's demand

Will build on rock and not on sand.

And when at last, the flood recedes

What's left are only loving deeds.

Thursday

To those who answer not the call

Are words that scare me most of all.

The flood will come and none will save

Except for those, their all who gave.

I try to listen well and hear

A word that takes me very near

The way myself would like to go

And all the trials just forego.

But words that say to humble be

Still are daily haunting me

The more I give, the more He asks

With evermore the humble tasks.

Someday, I pray, before I die

I'd learn His way to always try

Instead of mine which goes astray

And always on the narrow stay.

Friday

Here below the clouds are gray

And gloom can often rule the day.

Just are punished, guilty freed,

The poor and blind for alms will plead.

But coming soon a day anew

For all the poor and blind, and you.

For all, a day when truth shall reign

The poor and blind will have their gain.

Fear not the ones the body kill

But fear the One Almighty Will.

His patient love has stayed His hand

But soon the Truth shall rule the land.

Eternity seems far away

But here and now, this very day

Could change the way the future goes

If we just follow One who rose,

Saturday

Send workers to the harvest

And let me be as one.

Not one to go the farthest,

But one his neighbor won.

One of action here below

Relying on His word

One to recognize and know

The Voice that he has heard,