Life's Great Masterpiece...

By The Rivers of Babylon

Psalm 137:1-3
By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept
when we remembered Zion.

2There on the willowsa
we hung our harps,
3for there our captors requested a song;
our tormentors demanded songs of joy:

 

Sometimes when I see the sparse masked attenders at church

(due to covid restrictions)
and as we meet masked shoppers and we hear of old people
literally dying of loneliness I pine deeply for a pre-Covid world and
I wonder if this is a teeniest glimpse what the Israelites felt like as they
hung their harps/instruments of praise on the willows
by the river of Babylon
and wept for the old days/Zion...

Let's not hang up the instrument He has given us to play
but no matter what play to praise Him!!

What has the master lent to thee thy calling to fulfill
In life’s great orchestra, what instrument did He instill
What gift, what tool, what trade did He entrust to His increase
Where we all have a part to play in Life’s Great Masterpiece

No matter where we stand or sit or lie, the Lord is near
He keeps careful account with watchful eye and listening ear
Then oh, take heart; He makes us able to master the skill
It takes to learn to play our part according to His will

Sometimes our fingers get so sore and oh, we get so tired
Sometimes the ‘music’ feels like war, its order undesired
Sometimes the composition seems to make no sense at all
And then sometimes we try to rearrange His sacred call

Forgive us when the Melody is nothing like You planned
Because we shift our focus from the Baton in command
Where no one is too high or low to love our fellowman
And heed its call whereby we go in Life’s Great Masterplan

We ought not hang our harps upon a willow tree and weep
And pine for days gone by; we have an awesome charge to keep
Then pray we do not wish for someone else’s tool or quest
But humbly seek His purpose and honour Him with our best

What has He lent to you and me, to serve with perfect joy
No instrument is insignificant in His employ
Then oh, take heart and do not long for exchange or release
For we all play an awesome part in Life’s Great Masterpiece

…where God hears every lisp and lilt, each minor syllable
In life’s great orchestra no player is invisible
Then oh take heart; let’s play our part without reserve because
Soon our tools will fade into faith’s thundering applause

© Janet Martin

Can't find your instrument?

Get on thy knees...

 

The devotions of the past 3 days convicted/encouraged me to give Him my all

 no matter what!!

I Don't Suppose...

I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.
Phil.3:14

 
Romans 11:29
For God's gifts and His call are irrevocable.

2 Timothy 1:9
He has saved us and called us with a holy calling, 

not because of our own works, 

but by His own purpose and by the grace 

He granted us in Christ Jesus before time eternal.

 

 

I don’t suppose though no one knows what waits; one thing I do
I press on to the goal to win the Prize when life is through
I don’t suppose, for what comes, goes and nothing stays the same
Save this; the Word of He who saves only through Jesus name
And so I don’t suppose but cling to This One Thing I Know
All that we have belongs to Him whose grace whereby we go

© Janet Martin

Some Say It Is A Mystery...

Who tunes the tug that wakens want
and charges hope with dreams
Who vexes awe with wishful taunt,
both bursting at its seams
Who makes us feel like family,
yet also strangers too
Or helps us brave Uncertainty
where all of life runs through
Who tries the joys of living
with desire’s discontent
Who tames mournful misgiving
where all that we have is lent
Who splits the silence with its thunder,
yet without a sound
Who wakens speechless wonder
where nothing new can be found
Who grants the courage to proceed
toward Yet, undefined
Who plants the seed that uproots greed
and helps us to be kind
Who wounds our soul-full stature
by our human nature, pride
Who runs our murmurs through
with million mercies un-denied
Who sends a shiver through our forms
twixt past and future caught
Who rends the rock with rivers; storms
the halls of idle thought
Who steals our breath with butterflies
And meadows, flower-strewed
Who fills the fathoms of our sighs
With dumbstruck gratitude
Who authors opportunity
or thirst that drives us mad
With countless possibility
in spite of loss we had
Who riles the poet with a pull
of tides, intangible
Who quickens the Invisible
with Inevitable
Who holds the key that helps us see
more than sky, sea and sod
Some say it is a mystery
But I say it is God


© Janet Martin

Job 38:1-4

Then the LORD answered Job out of the whirlwind and said:
2“Who is this who obscures My counsel
by words without knowledge?a
3Now brace yourselfb like a man;
I will question you, and you shall inform Me.c
4Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth? 

Tell Me, if you have understanding. 

How Sacred Is The Place...

Sitting At The Feet Of Jesus

How sacred is the place
Where earth and heaven meld
Where in the Saviour’s kind embrace
Hope’s heart and mind are held

How comforting to flee
To I AM’s mercy-seat
And overcome the enemy
While kneeling at His feet

How gentle is His Voice
How patient is his ear
Even in sorrow we rejoice
To know that He is near

How righteous is His law
His judgments true and just
How sweet is worship’s humble awe
How secure is our trust

How faithful is His Word
Through faith alone revealed
Where in communion with the Lord
Hope’s heart and mind are healed

How sacred is the place
Where earth and Heaven meet
As we, because of Mercy's grace
Can fall down at His feet

To shield us from torment
As Satan's legions flee
Where He who is omnipotent
Sets us upon His knee

 

 © Janet Martin

 

2 Thess.2:16-17

 Now may our Lord Jesus Christ Himself and God our Father, 

who by grace has loved us and given us eternal comfort and good hope,

encourage your hearts and strengthen you in every good word and deed.

Not Gone Too Soon...(a letting-go-of-August medley)

 

 

A hint of blush begins to push
Through limelight plumes and sedum bush
Bloom’s hearty grip begins to slip
And yield to nature’s leadership
Where morning pours quadrillion stars
To dazzle heatwave-weathered bars
Where crickets never sleep but keep
A constant rhythm of cheep-cheep-cheep
Where orchards bend with dividend
Where minnow-tickled shallows wend
Where gardens brim with harvest hymn
And humbled thankful hearts join in
With flat tone of cicada’s drone
And raucous crow and blue heron
Where peach-juice drips from chins and lips
And sweetens tender farewell-trips
With sighs that find in ties that bind
The present to paths, echo-lined
The common ground where sight and sound
Is eternally summer-bound
In spite of hints in amber tints
And early, rebel russet glints
Among the sheen of laughing green
Ruled, like we, by a Hand unseen
Nay, kindly held while moments meld
Into a Song of Season Felled
*While cellars fill as seed-pods spill
The perfect timing of God’s will

© Janet Martin

*While hazy noon like cello-tune
Serenades Something/Summer gone too soon
Was originally the last two lines but something didn’t feel ‘right’
So I let it simmer a bit as I began the day’s duties rife with seasonal delights
And suddenly I knew what was missing…my summer-heart's surrender to God’s perfect timing!