Thursday, December 18, 2014

Love Came to Earth..(Tonight's Re-post)

 

Love came to earth, a babe in the manger
Heaven’s perfection put on flesh and blood
In lowly birth and to His own a stranger
Love came to serve us; the Son of God

Love came to free us; despised and rejected
Forsaken by all in death’s hour of grief
His name is Jesus; Love came to save us
And offer salvation for our unbelief

Love spared no comfort; in blood-bought atonement
Perfect love came to become sin for us
Love never fails; prophecy’s fulfillment
Was laid in a manger and nailed to the cross

Love came to earth; and we hid our faces
Yet His perfect love over-came sin’s dark curse
By His stripes we are healed; as His love erases
The debt of our guilt; Love’s name is Jesus

© Janet Martin
Love came to earth, a babe in the manger
Heaven’s perfection put on flesh and blood
In lowly birth and to His own a stranger
Love came to serve us; the Son of God

Love came to free us; despised and rejected
Forsaken by all in death’s hour of grief
His name is Jesus; Love came to save us
And offer salvation for our unbelief

Love spared no comfort; in blood-bought atonement
Perfect love came to become sin for us
Love never fails; prophecy’s fulfillment
Was laid in a manger and nailed to the cross

Love came to earth; and we hid our faces
Yet His perfect love over-came sin’s dark curse
By His stripes we are healed; as His love erases
The debt of our guilt; Love’s name is Jesus

© Janet Martin
- See more at: http://anotherporch.blogspot.ca/2014/02/lets-talk-about-love-13-love-came.html#sthash.UgZIOoX1.dpuf

And Then Somewhere, A Miracle





We bow our heads and breathe a prayer
The heart cannot always shape words
But in our need, somewhere, Somewhere
Our humble, fumbling plea is heard
And then somewhere upon life’s way
Across the miles of sea or sod
A miracle unfolds as they
For whom we pray are touched by God

© Janet Martin

 For nothing will be impossible with God. Luke 1:37


Whether we pray for those we hold or far across the sea,
there is no one that our God cannot reach easily

It struck me anew this morning as I prayed for Matthew and Victoria as they headed out to school, as I prayed for those suffering both here and in foreign lands, as I prayed for Matthew's friend who has re-broken his arm and for friends who lost a dad, how amazing it is that as we pray far across the sea those suffering are suddenly, miraculously given God's peace, the sorrowing are quietly comforted, a young boy waiting for surgery will  not feel quite so afraid, and mother's can place their fears and care in bigger hands and never fully know how He intercedes. Thank-you God.

p.s. And, I prayed for you, 
who and wherever you are
that, as you read this you would feel
God's touch upon your heart

The story behind this song; Sweet Hour of Prayer

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

This Wonderland




From bastions of burdened skies
The painter spills white butterflies
Like sequined lace they softly cling
To every ordinary thing
And suddenly the dull and plain
Is full of majesty again

The hill becomes a rolling sea
Of whitecaps gilding golden lea
And where the wild flowers would blow
Now blooms a field of fallen snow
As we of wanderlust demand
An hour extra from time’s hand

This wonderland startles the eye
We tip our chins to kiss the sky
Heaven and earth are heart to heart
Its pulse of God spills in star-art
Soft, soft upon the countryside
Nature is like a beaming bride

© Janet Martin



On Being the Oldest Brother...





When you’re the biggest brother
Other brothers follow you
And they repeat the things I say
And do the things I do

To be the biggest brother
Is a very special thing
But it is also serious
With brothers following

Then I must be so careful
With this responsibility
Because my other brothers
Are always watching me

© Janet Martin

A Mother-prayer for the Hands She holds





Oh, let me never be the one
To lead your little hands to wrong
…you trust me to guide you right
Hold you, hug you warm and tight

You watch my hands clap and praise
Lift you, teach you in life’s ways
Oh God, let it never be
That you should learn wrong from me

Hold my hand then, God I pray
For if you will lead the way
Then these small hands are secure
Led not by my hands, but yours

© Janet Martin