Friday, August 31, 2018

Always on the Verge...

 Boi-oing-oing-oing! (sound of my heart returning to my chest)

"come on guys, come and get your kiss and hug from Janet"
yelled Youngest yesterday to her 2 siblings when they prepared to leave!
(she is off to school next week thus ending another child-care 'era')
It's been quite a farewell season...3 families, maybe 4!
(one family has been part of ours for over 8 years) done with daycare! more 'Thursday-boys' except here and there for old time's sake!)

Thank God love is not dictated by the geography of miles/years...
These guys will always be 'my other boys'!
We all vow to keep in touch(where we all know balancing Busyness can be a full-time job!)
 but friendships have been forged 
and the tug of love will draw us together where the law of life pulls apart!

It seems that we are always on the onset of farewells
Always poised on fresh fringes of dusk’s dirge and tolling bells
Always almost at gateways to impenetrable Past
Always a hand-wave, hug and tear, near what can never last

It seems that we are always on the verge of letting go
Arms wrapped around a moment full of Mercy’s overflow
Where good and ill will never have its fill; learning’s aha
Always finds new ways to extol life’s oldest, changeless law

Sometimes we dress our tears in smiles; to cry we try to laugh
When Time insists upon a fresh-kissed Final Autograph
Where it seems we are always never ready for the seal
On that which none can keep on memories that none can steal

© Janet Martin

Mercy's Majesty

Mercy's Majesty rolled like a golden tide across the countryside this morning...
There is no common art where God holds the brush!

 It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, 
because his compassions fail not. 
 They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.

Dawn beams, akin to blushing bride
It streams across the countryside
And etches on dew-lavished lea
Sketches of Mercy’s majesty

The hour soon fills in its blanks
We pause and offer awe-struck thanks
For all that was, is and will be
Relies on Mercy’s majesty

Inhale, exhale, dawn’s diamond girth
Soon sheds Time’s elemental birth
Begetting what makes history
…off-spring of Mercy’s majesty

Darling, death wears many a form
The dust of days takes hearts by storm
Where we, on brinks of mystery
Depend on Mercy’s majesty

Mercy’s majesty will not fail
The Hand that holds and tips its grail
Never out-pours love’s boundless sea
…no shores for Mercy’s majesty

© Janet Martin

Exercise in Futility

 One of hubby's often used lines when explaining something is
'it's not that complicated!'...this phrase, I have found to be true in a lot of situations!
Yes, it's not that complicated. It's hard to trust a Stranger!
Oh, pray the Author of flowers is no stranger to us! 

Futile to plead for guidance Lord
But never read Your Word
Futile to find true hope and peace
In One never adored
Futile to look for confidence
Beyond earth’s dust-mist bar
Without awareness and belief
Dear Lord, in who you are

© Janet Martin

Jesus answered and said to them, You do err, not knowing the scriptures, …

 Romans 10:17
Consequently, faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of Christ.

James 5:13
Is any one of you suffering? He should pray.
 Is anyone cheerful? He should sing praises.

Wednesday, August 29, 2018

Rules of Relinquishment...and a few recipes!

Sermon to me-self­čśÉ 
Sometimes, even though being busy is a blessing, 
I miss some things that didn't happen this year...
(Somehow the end of August always feels like the end of summer) very happy with all the 'summer' sealed in jars though!

This is Veggie Soup, Salsa(recipe below) 

Don’t hold too tight; put up a fight but only where it counts
The law and order of life’s rites of passage do not shift
Be humbly grateful for the mist that falls from Mercy’s founts
For every single day, to one and all is but a gift

Don’t mourn too long sweet summer’s song of days bound into sheaf
Or hunger for much younger feet and lips, to dance and sing
Don’t hate the pace of meeker grace, or face refined by grief
For kinder those near winter than those who’ve known only Spring

Don’t ache for what Time takes but rather praise God for its More
No matter whether rich or poor, Time treats each one the same
It never leaves us younger than we were the day before
And when our numbered days are spent we go from whence we came

Don't wallow in regret but set your eyes toward what waits
And where the clock ran out on dreams that never did come true
Don't cry, but try to cherish fully life's present estates
Because before we know it This will fall prey to time too

© Janet Martin

Salsa Recipe
20-24 cups peeled chopped tomatoes(scald tomatoes for easy peeling)
8 cups chopped green peppers(or green and red mixed)
6 cups chopped onion
1 jalape├▒o pepper (remove seeds for milder salsa)
1 garlic bulb
2 tbsp. salt
1-1/3 cups white vinegar
1/3 cup apple cider vinegar (optional)

Chop tomatoes and green peppers by hand
Coarsely chop onions with food processor
Section and peel garlic cloves 
(quick way to peel them is to press clove hard with a glass and peeling falls away)
Chop garlic and jalape├▒o finely in food processor or slap-chopper

Mix all ingred.and bring to boil slowly to avoid burning.
Simmer for two hours or until thick.
(1-369ML can of tomato paste helps to thicken it more quickly)

Put in jars then into canner. Bring to boil and steam for 15 min.

Tug of Time...

The color of New Season starts where old shades fade and fray
The tug of time entangles hearts where threads dangle and sway
Its shuttle weaves, with day-to-day’s morning to eventide   
A tapestry of far-off leas where fond farewells reside

The final destiny of dancing feet draws nearer, oh
The tug of time is bittersweet; soft kiss and bitter blow
And no one is immune to winds that tune the green-leaf hymn
Where touch of noon to noon soon siphons summer from the limb

The ebb and flow of new today-dreams beckons and beguiles
The tug of time lassos its prey with love-lessons and smiles
Yet always on the fringe of Celebration's gifts galore
Is a searing Sensation that there must be Something More

Its funambulist teases us with joys that steal our breath
Where tug of time always eases us toward its latest death
It etches laugh-lines to the face, oft traced with tender tear
And keens us to a time and place beyond the Now and Here

The color of New Season starts where erstwhile colors end
The tug of time draws us toward More than four seasons, friend
Then, wise the one who holds out hands and lets Time’s strands fall free
For a clenched fist can’t cup the mist that weaves a memory

© Janet Martin

 Teach us to number our days,
    that we may gain a heart of wisdom.