From Gentle Hands

This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it."

Psalm 118:24

This is the day the Lord has made

A gift we dare not waste

Wrapped in blush tulle then gently laid

Beneath our touch and taste

Sometimes the highs and lows of love

Can cause us to mistreat

The Gentle Hands that tip Time’s trove

With treasure, bittersweet

To track-records of sad disgrace

He does not yet repay

Nor does He turn away his face

But grants another day

Where miracles are sometimes veiled

In merits, hard to see

And prayers that look as if they’ve failed

Are answered faithfully

Where what we want may not agree

With the needs He supplies

Goodness and mercy’s Mystery

Finesse faith’s hard-fought Prize

This is the day God helps us bear

A gift of thorn and rose

Then pray we trust Him with whate’er

His gentle Hand bestows

...and may we in return reply

Not with selfish demands

But open up our bit of sky

With kind and gentle hands

© Janet Martin

Pass Me Not Oh, Gentle Saviour

Oh, Gentle Shepherd

Take My Hand and Lead Me

My God, Where Shall I Wend My Flight

Firsthand Evidence...

 How beautiful to stand beneath a brand-new break of day...

How glorious to gaze anew at what never grows old

And feel God run his fingers through Time’s transitional fold

Of gold and blush and silver-blue...

How stunning to straddle the fence facing earth’s eastward edge...

To see firsthand the evidence of Mercy’s renewed pledge...

How beautiful to stand beneath a brand-new break of day

And sense above the rolling heath unfolding, silver-gray

The goodness of a Father as heaven’s fathoms proclaim

But glimpses of the grandeur, synonymous with His name

How glorious to gaze anew at what never grows old

And feel God run his fingers through Time’s transitional fold

Of gold and blush and silver-blue, His brush-strokes steal our breath

And waken our senses to feet perched on brinks of death

How stunning to straddle the fence facing earth’s eastward edge

To see firsthand the evidence of Mercy’s renewed pledge

To soak in ink of molten pink from founts vaulted in space

As He kind-beckons us to drink His signature of grace

© Janet Martin

Isa.12:4-5

“Praise the Lord, call upon His name;
Declare His deeds among the peoples,
Make mention that His name is exalted.
 Sing to the Lord,
For He has done excellent things;
This is known in all the earth.

Courage, With Joy

Below is a message from my friend Jane, sent to me years ago

after I confessed how terribly terrified I am to share the poetry publicly...

I printed and scotch-taped her reminder beside my computer screen

and it has been a powerful reminder more times than I can count...

Because of the prolific nature of this 'poem-porch' 

one might assume it's easy to hit 'publish' and bare heart-pieces to the world. 

But if it were possible to pull apart the place where feelings lie you would see

so much would-be insecurity, timidity and fear! 

However, whatever our creative outlet is, 

we only ever create with what God first has created. 

We are like children playing with His crayons 

and thereby we create 

and owe God an answer when He asks,

'What are you going to do with it?'

The most terrifying, exhilarating thing we will ever do

is to 'let go and let God!'

My friends host our church's podcast for women.

 Another friend is the guest on the latest episode 8.

I was so touched by her reminder that,

'as we are aware that we create with what He gives

creativity becomes a source and form of constant worship'

Yes, and

 This worship helps to fill life with constant joy!

George Macdonald wrote over a hundred years ago

"A poet is a man who is glad of something and

tries to make other people glad of it too"

That quote is still as true as ever

and reveals why an artist has the courage, with joy,

to share what they/we have created...

...to recognize with holy awe that all we are and touch

Is created and granted by He who loves us so much

We are so very diff'rent, yet still so very 'the same'

Created in His image to bring glory to His name

How loud doubt's voice would shout with fearful insecurity

Without His still small voice that whispers 'just do it for Me'

Then suddenly dark demons flee and joy transforms despair

As we honour His majesty with talents He put there 

Forbid, when face to face we give account for what we did

That pride or doubt or lack of faith kept our talents hid

Or that Comparison, (the deadliest kill-joy of all)

Would have succeeded in making us ashamed of His Call

So pray for courage to proceed with joy to glorify

The Giver with the gift that He has given you and I

Then, as we hold the crayons, may we be filled with sheer awe 

To feel His Hand over our fingers, teaching us to draw

Janet Martin

Let's all seek to bless others by glorifying the Giver

with our gift/s.

This poem could also be called

Why my to-do list grows longer and longer

because in the middle of Very Busy...a poem might nudge😊

Un-an(d)ticipated Good or Hope's Masterpiece

Psalm 25:1-7

In you, Lord my God,

I put my trust.

I trust in you;

do not let me be put to shame,

nor let my enemies triumph over me.

 No one who hopes in you

will ever be put to shame,

but shame will come on those

who are treacherous without cause.

 Show me your ways, Lord,

teach me your paths.

 Guide me in your truth and teach me,

for you are God my Savior,

and my hope is in you all day long.

 Remember, Lord, your great mercy and love,

for they are from of old.

 Do not remember the sins of my youth

and my rebellious ways;

according to your love remember me,

for you, Lord, are good.

Morning melted like a pink-lemonade popsicle over the countryside...

How wonderful, where strife runs rife in ways we wish it never would

Our God of love lavishes life with unanticipated good

He does not leave us comfortless where trouble’s rushing billows roll

His Spirit ministers to us to calm storms that could crush the soul

Though trouble and trial increase and fear could torment constantly

God fills us with His perfect peace as we trust in His sovereignty

For He has overcome the world in spite of what seems so forlorn

Mercy, like a banner unfurled renews its faithfulness each morn

He breaks the bud where beauty’s flower-flood runs through arbor and fence

Earth and sky grandly testify the glory of God’s providence

For He loves every one of us and hears each humble prayer we pray

And He keeps all His promises in spite of what doubt’s liars say

No one who hopes in God is put to shame, for He is just and good

Though misery may stake its claim in transient frames of flesh and blood

These Soul-implanted vessels will soon shed thinning dust-threads of Time

This world’s temporal trestles like a little ladder that we climb

…not to the grave, but through it; though it appears as if life has failed

The vantage point from which we view it leaves Truth’s Greater Portion veiled

Where God has made, nay paid through grace the Way that seals the gates of hell

Where death and fear cannot invade the place where redeemed sinners’ dwell

How wonderful, where strife runs rife in ways we wish it never would

Our God of love lavishes life with un-and-(an)ticipated good

His countless mercies overflow where some only see dread’s increase

Faith sees beyond the cup of woe to Hands scarred with Hope’s Masterpiece

© Janet Martin

Lam.3:21-26

This I recall to my mind, therefore have I hope.

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.

The Lord is my portion, saith my soul;

 therefore will I hope in him.

The Lord is good unto them that wait for him, 

to the soul that seeketh him.

It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait

 for the salvation of the Lord.

This Little Bit of Time We Have...

Last Sunday we celebrated today's milestone,

Dad's 80th birthday!

Happy 80th Birthday, Dad

To us, much or somewhat younger, 80 years seems like a long time,

but it's a blip on time's screen, isn't it?!

Before refreshments we had an opportunity to share memories and words of appreciation.

Lots of laughter and a few tears too.

 

The verse below stands out as one my dad strove to live by, 

(and a few mentioned their thankfulness for his kind and wholesome habit of speech.)

Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths,

but only what is helpful for building others up

according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.

Eph.4:29

The memories re-impressed on me

the little bit of Time we have in light of eternity

no matter how long/short life is!

This little bit of Time we have 

before Soul’s husk falls to the grave

Compels us to fine-tune want’s quest 

and strive to give each day our best

For it will not be long until 

the shoes we leave behind to fill

Will be worn by feet still so small, 

while we go on to That Last Call

Then, with this bit of time life grants 

we do not want to leave to chance

The calling and election of 

what soon is stripped of mortal glove

But pray each day, God will equip 

us with tools for good stewardship

His Word directs and edifies 

to feed the soul that never dies

His grace forgives, His love sustains 

us through whatever time remains

He helps us do the best we can 

to love Him first, then fellowman

So, someday when this race is run, 

we’ll hear hope’s glorious crown ‘well done!’

Where, when time’s veil is rent, we’ll see 

intangible eternity

© Janet Martin

On behalf of the whole family I also shared this poem My Dad

 written a few months ago but saved to share with him till this celebration.

 We also sang one of his favourite songs; 

Bringing Home our Sheaves by

Elizabeth A. Allen  and Henry S. Rupp

Celebration of Gratitude...

 

With everything going on 

sometimes gratitude is not foremost in my attitude

until I renew the spirit of my mind

and dwell on God's amazing faithfulness and grace!

This morning I didn't feel like writing, but as I prayed and pondered

 and as I began to pour my heart to page lo, and behold,

 the more I dwelt on 'more than meets the eye', 

the more 'what I felt' tenderly transformed 

discouragement into gratitude!

Thank-you Lord

Life’s weight of work, woe and worry 

would weary without reprieve

If we had nothing trustworthy

greater than what we achieve

The heart is a wicked master, 

without God’s Word to direct

We are destined for disaster 

if we trust man’s intellect

Pray for all who worship boldly 

the created, but not God

He who is both love and Holy, 

Creator of sky-sea-sod

Subject to no one, above all, 

Has Supreme Authority

Mighty, merciful and faithful, 

truth and righteousness is He

Life’s weight of work, woe and worry 

would fuel a cheerless toll

If hope held no greater glory 

than the cold grave as its goal

Death and hell, are not annulled 

by apathy and unbelief

Life and heaven will be fulfilled 

when at last faith finds relief

Oh, the trophies of transgression 

would torment me till I die

But for cleansing through confession 

and Salvation's kind reply

Oh, the chaos that so grieves us 

where the fruit of sin runs wild

Would destroy joy; but praise Jesus, 

for the debt He reconciled 

In the thick of sickness, sorrow, 

fear and heart-break, hate and spite

We can face today, tomorrow,

 armed with God’s mercy and Light

When redemption’s transformation 

leaves our heart and mind renewed

Life becomes a celebration 

of love’s reverent gratitude

© Janet Martin

Eph 4:20-24 BSB

But this is not the way you came to know Christ. 

Surely you heard of Him and were taught in Him—

in keeping with the truth that is in Jesus— 

to put off your former way of life, your old self, 

which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; 

to be renewed in the spirit of your minds; 

and to put on the new self, created to be like God

 in true righteousness and holiness.

Sing to Me of Heaven

Harvest Season Meditation...

this is the season of long, steamy canning days.

...and singing meek praises of gratitude!

this is the season of eager helpers...

this is the season of blooms and butterflies...

This is the season of endless culinary options and delights...

This is the harvest season!!

Imagine if, with the same urgency we have

to gather in the harvest

 (esp. when it looks like rain)

we rushed to the harvest fields 

Jesus called all believers to!

Matt.9:36-38

 When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them,

 because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. 

Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. 

Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field.”

We have no time to lose or pine

For harvest season does not stay

The fruit hangs heavy on the vine

Then we must toil without delay

With reverence for Judgement Day

Now is the time to gather in

For harvest season does not wait

But beckons from the laden limb

Where grace still draws ajar dawn’s gate

Then work before it is too late

We have no time to idle stand

For harvest season is so brief

Winter and death are close at hand

Its step trembles in ev’ry leaf

With verges of hunger and grief

Now is the time to labor long

Where harvest season’s bowers bow

Beneath the tolling of a gong

Who knows how long God will allow

The Time to gather in called Now

© Janet Martin

2 Cor.6:2

 I tell you, now is the time of God’s favor, 

now is the day of salvation.

The Great Commission

Matt.28:18-20

And Jesus came and spoke to them, saying,

 “All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth.

 19Go [c]therefore and make disciples of all the nations, 

baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,

 20teaching them to observe all things that I have commanded you;

 and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”

 [d]Amen.

The Choreographer of Life (makes no mistake)

 

A man’s heart plans his way,

But the LORD directs his steps.

Prov. 16:9

Let's admit it; we cannot begin

to understand the One who directs our steps

His timing seems anything but perfect at times, doesn't it?!

All of Our Tomorrows

Time’s momentum of seasons spills to tenderly compose

A steady sequence of quadrilles that keeps us on our toes

The Choreographer of Days, so oft misunderstood

Works through His higher thoughts and ways for our utter good

How often faith’s footwork is tried with grim complexity

Because He is not satisfied with mediocrity

The Choreographer of Moments metes with kind intent

The order of our steps in spite of Dreamer’s argument

A seed thunders with wonders clad in unimpressive hull

Where eye and logic blunders when governed by visual

The Choreographer of summer’s stunning colour-show

Is the same Choreographer when winter’s cold gales blow

Some dancers seem to glide with ease across time’s no return

Some stumble unsure of the piece that He insists they learn

The Choreographer of Seasons sees beyond the dance

Our best, always His Reason for the sequences He grants

Sometimes we judge love based on basis of experience

Rather than trusting He who died for death’s deliverance

So, when His timing seems so wrong, remember, though hearts break

The Choreographer of Life’s Love Song makes no mistake

© Janet Martin

Aware of What Does Not Disappear Into Thin Air

This morning there was definitely no denying it;

The cocoon of night takes a little longer to release its charge!

This morning is also the final 6:15 a.m. childcare starting time

(for a while at least!)

Because this mom is off on mat-leave 

as they anticipate Baby arriving soon!

So no matter where we are in life

one thing to remember is that everything

 (for better or worse) is but a season!

the flower in full bloom soon sheds its vibrant shades!

Time hoists its elemental plume...

Like a cocoon, dark night enfolds

The wing-span of the sky

Until morning soft sheds its hold

And frees dawn’s butterfly

Time hoists its elemental plume

Upon a transient wick

Where the hour, now in full bloom

Is soon cut to the quick

We should seek to spend carefully

Time's momentous parade

And redeem, ever prayerfully

Each day the Lord has made 

For what appears to disappear

Into vaults of thin air

Is being recorded, my dear

Beyond time's vapour flare

...where we will give detailed account 

For sparks that upward fly

Then, live today as if time's fount

Is about to run dry

© Janet Martin

Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise,

 making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. 

Eph.5:15-16

August; Summer's Magnum Opus (or Masterpiece of Happiness)

I snared the first eight lines before tots arrived then

throughout this morning the poem kind of composed itself.

Nap-time allowed me to tether it to page😀

Mist-mantled meadowland at morn...

Plush pastures brushed with blushing brume...

Where children barefoot and carefree

Run through the hearts of you and me

Little Girl; Janet, why do you walk everywhere?

Me, puzzled; Well, that's how I get to where I need to go. 

What should I do instead. Crawl?

Little Girl, laughing No!! Run! I run!

 😂😅

Yes! She does💕

 

Where butterfly cavorts with bee

While sipping purple nectar-tea 

Where sun climbs into big blue span

Then melts like butter in a pan

Where Baskets brim with task to do

Where harvest hymns ring with ‘thank You’

Like tot, learning to smell, not tug

Like pup waiting for treat or hug

(aw, I missed the shot with her nose in the air yipping her Best Beg, while

Little Girls munched fresh zucchini-nut muffins and pup wanted one too😋😂

She will not take her eyes off the muffins, because, you know, 

just in case they drop it, or a few crumbs at least!

Like zinnia, dahlia, marigold

Floral heirlooms from days of old 

August; summer’s magnum opus

To thrill forgetful folks…like us

Mist-mantled meadowland at morn

Regimental squadrons of corn

Plush pastures brushed with blushing brume

Lawns dazzled by a diamond-loom

Cricket-staccato’s unfazed lilt

Hexagon-halos of webbed gilt

Gardens; earth-granted paradise

Feasts, planted for our mouth and eyes

Where children barefoot and carefree

Run/dash through the hearts of you and me

Where butterfly cavorts with bee

While sipping purple-nectar tea

Where sun climbs into big blue span

Then melts like butter in a pan

Where Baskets brim with task to do

Where harvest hymns ring with ‘thank You’

Where souls flow over with glad laud

Where we glean gifts bestowed by God

And pause to drink earth’s Beauty in

Like peach-juice, dripping down our chin

With joys running too rife to count

Like hummingbird at lily-fount

Like zinnia, dahlia, marigold

Floral heirlooms from days of old 

Like tot, learning to smell, not tug

Like pup, waiting for treat or hug

Like laughter; sparkling on the breeze

Like silver wind chime-melodies

Like Echoes of The Artist's 'Yes'

As Masterpiece of Happiness

Unfolds. Before bloom's exodus

August; summer's magnum opus

© Janet Martin

Lest I Lose Sight of the Big Picture...

Our Father, Who art in Heaven,

Hallowed be Thy Name...

Matt.6:9

Lest I miss who fills and unfurls morning's mist-borne mercy-tide

Maybe hardship and heartache's main purpose is

to mold the faith that makes us whole!

Maybe the prayers we keep repeating seemingly to no avail

are The Refining/Refiner's Fire, 

because we have not yet fully surrendered heart and soul...

Maybe too often we're missing the main point 

because we focus on the wrong thing;

Us instead of Him!

Lest I look without beholding More than just the visual...

Lest I miss who fills and unfurls morning's mist-borne mercy-tide

Lest I harbor in some heart-nook, an idol of selfish pride

Lest I lose my first love by some lesser blandishment beguiled

Lest the prayers I keep repeating by doubt’s demons are defiled

Lest faith becomes disillusioned, by blindness of sight deterred

Our Father up in Heaven, lead me, feed me through Your Word

Lest I live as if tomorrow was a threshold guaranteed

Lest the quest for success outweighs compassion for one in need

Lest I forget all I have was given to give, not to keep

Lest I gorge while other’s hunger, (yet I give them naught to eat)

Lest I labor, leaving nothing but a castle made of sand

Our Father up in Heaven, guide me with your nail-scarred Hand

Lest the consequence for folly leaves me in depths of despair

Lest hope is shallow and hollow, not transcending death’s cold lair

Lest fear drives me from, not to the place where perfect peace prevails

Lest I discredit the promise of Your love that never fails

Lest I fall prey to the tempter, by hate’s master plan deceived

Keep me through your saving power, knowing Whom I have believed

Lest I weary in well-doing, lest I starve in a Bread-bowl

Lest I look without beholding More than just the visual 

Lest life becomes a collection of things, not relinquishment

Lest, instead of satisfaction, obtaining breeds discontent

Lest I lose faith's focus where distraction twirls Want's carousel

Our Father up in Heaven, help me to remember hell 

Lest I do not love my neighbour, second only, Lord, to Thee

Lest I never learn to linger in your Divine company

Lest I think that I can muster enough courage without You

Lest a heart of half-surrender infects all that I pursue

Lest joy in being forgiven does not satisfy my soul

Our Father up in Heaven, mold the faith that makes me whole

© Janet Martin

Savior, Lead Me Lest I Stray

Happy Birthday, Melissa

 

Happy Birthday, Melissa💗

In spite of this past winter and spring's thorns (aka lockdown)

we cherished its rose...Melissa living at home for a while!

We miss you and love you

and also are so thankful that life is feeling a bit more normal

and you can get your city-life fix again😊

So many precious moments enjoyed...

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

Rejoice always, 

pray continually, 

give thanks in all circumstances;

 for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.

Wishing you a wonder-full year ahead filled with happiness!

Happiness is life’s lovely prize

Not hiding in what money buys

But in contentment’s treasure trove

In trusting God, in faith and love

In cherishing the day in hand

As it washes across the land

Like waves that wash across the beach

In the sweet pleasure of a peach

In tasting fully every drop

That sparkles from yon Mercy-cup

Happiness is a job well done

Not found in wild-goose chase of ‘fun’

But in the awed awareness of

The One who grants life's work-pray-love

And gives us Hope no matter what

Perplexes us with ‘if’ and but’

It fills time's mist of highs and lows

Not just with thorns but with the rose

And as we trust God with each need

We will be most happy in deed

Happiness is love’s ‘welcome home’

The joys that turn into a poem

A willing-to-help attitude

A second-to-none gratitude

A hug, a smile, a love-you wave

Making the best of what we have

Embracing who we are because

Of Who created each of us

His one-of-a-kind works of art

Happiness is a thankful heart

© Janet Martin

SO thankful for sweet, determined beautiful you!

Thankful for God's faithful provision for you.

God bless and keep you well and hope to

See you soon!