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.
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!