Miserere mei, Deus

Have mercy on me, O God, as thou art ever rich in mercy; 

in the abundance of thy compassion, blot out the record of my misdeeds.

Wash me clean, 

cleaner yet, from my guilt, 

purge me of my sin the guilt which I freely acknowledge, 

the sin which is never lost to my sight. 

Thee only my sins have offended; 

it is thy will I have disobeyed; 

thy sentence was deserved, 

and still when thou givest award thou hast right on thy side.

For indeed, I was born in sin; 

guilt was with me already when my mother conceived me. 

But thou art a lover of faithfulness, 

and now, deep in my heart, thy wisdom has instructed me. 

Sprinkle me with a wand of hyssop, and I shall be clean; 

washed, I shall be whiter than snow; 

tidings send me of good news and rejoicing, 

and the body that lies in the dust shall thrill with pride.

Turn thy eyes away from my sins, 

blot out the record of my guilt; 

my God, bring a clean heart to birth within me; 

breathe new life, true life, into my being. 

Do not banish me from thy presence, 

do not take thy holy spirit away from me; 

give me back the comfort of thy saving power, 

and strengthen me in generous resolve.

So will I teach the wicked to follow thy paths; 

sinners shall come back to thy obedience. 

My God, my divine Deliverer, save me from the guilt of bloodshed! 

This tongue shall boast of thy mercies; 

O Lord, thou wilt open my lips, 

and my mouth shall tell of thy praise.

Thou hast no mind for sacrifice, 

burnt-offerings, if I brought them, thou wouldst refuse; 

here, O God, is my sacrifice, a broken spirit; 

a heart that is humbled and contrite thou, 

O God, wilt never disdain.

A green rose

 

 

 

 

Heaven's gift offers
the soul new life and true Love
for Eternity



The Saint that is just me ......

 

 

 

O I thought I'd be heroic and inspiring.
I wanted to offer you the greatest sacrifice.
Like all the saints who'd gone before me,
I tried to prove my love for you, and so to gain the prize.
I thought I'd be a martyr like Cecilia.
I hoped I'd disappear like Saint Therese,
Or wear a hidden crown of thorns like Rose of Lima,
To heal the sick and raise the dead.

When you hung upon the cross looking at me,
You didn't die so I would try to be somebody else.
You died so I could be the saint that is just me.

I wanted to be poor and free like Francis,
To cut off my long hair like lovely Clare.
To be faithful like Mother Teresa in the darkness,
Lord, won't you make me just like her?
I tried to kneel for hours in the chapel corner,
To persevere like Paul with all my sleepless nights,
To stay awake and trim my lamp with ten wise virgins,
To really give the devil a good fight.

When you hung upon the cross looking at me,
You didn't die so I would try to be somebody else.
You died so I could be the saint that is just me,
Just me, you died just for me.
Just me, just me, you died just for me.

You saw that I was perfectly imperfect.
O happy fault, the sin of Adam's pride.
That's the reason that you became man,
And bore the new Eve from your wounded side.
If it weren't for my sins and wounds and weakness,
Then you wouldn't have married me upon the cross.
Why do I fear being seen naked and broken?
That's why you came; cause I need you that much.

When you hung upon the cross looking at me,
You didn't die so I would try to be somebody else.
You died so I could be the saint that is just me.