Epiphany of the (Seeming) Commonplace

This passage in yesterday's devotion was the perfect gift 

for someone near and dear to me

facing a vale of shadows...

Isa.43:1-3

But now, this is what the Lord says—

he who created you, Jacob,

he who formed you, Israel:

“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;

I have summoned you by name; you are mine.

 When you pass through the waters,

I will be with you;

and when you pass through the rivers,

they will not sweep over you.

When you walk through the fire,

you will not be burned;

the flames will not set you ablaze.

 For I am the Lord your God,

the Holy One of Israel, your Savior;

All around us the seeming Commonplace 

spills from a fount of redeeming grace!

 A few glimpses of yesterday and today's un-commonplace

A new favourite tea thanks to a Christmas gift!

Sipping while enjoying another snow-capped morning...

The eyes that open to behold the break of day, blue-gray, blush-gold

Or the beloved presence of the people whom we dearly love

(off to school)

To be…to be stunned by the grace and beauty of The Commonplace

The task that moves the mobile hand, the feet that function when we stand

The eyes that open to behold the break of day, blue-gray, blush-gold

Or the beloved presence of the people whom we dearly love

To be, though ineffably flawed, a sacred masterpiece of God

Each breath, a shimmer spilling rife from He who fills the rill of life

And rushes mortality through with Immortal, none can undo

His goodness never wanes or fails no matter what vexes or ails

To let The Commonplace confound, stirred by a symphony of sound

The birds, the breeze, the merchant cry of toil until life’s rill runs dry

But until then to pay kind heed to instruments of word and deed

And with motherly love embrace the holy, seeming Commonplace

To be beholden to faith’s Charge to trust God with cares small and large

To don the warmly woven shrouds, to brave the bite of brumal clouds

Or to meet round a table where heads bow in sweet and humble prayer

As gladness overflows heart-banks as thought is overcome with thanks

As logic is utterly awed as we consider man and God

And how the beauty of the earth does not depend on human worth

(For how bereft beauty would be if it was up to you and me)

But Beauty smiles in every face that celebrates the Commonplace

The canvas of the heavens stretched from skyline-to-skyline, mauve-etched

The music of four season’s worth of wonder, melting want with mirth

The wealth of five senses designed to enrich the most mundane grind

Anoints the seeming Commonplace with the oil of gladness; God’s grace

…so when the Commonplace is tried with precious hopes and dreams denied

The Giver of the font and fray of unframed prints that fall away

Day after day, does not forget His promises, but cups each Yet

In hands, scarred with the price of grace that sanctifies The Commonplace

The sacred, solemn Commonplace, the seemingly meaningless chase

In the light of God’s beck and call is never Commonplace at all

Then mind the corner where you are for, we serve He who lights each star

He who grants each new day of grace is anything but Commonplace

Lord, forgive me, when faith is frail and yields to fear and doubt's travail 

Lord, let love’s pow'r be undeterred through the Truth of your changeless Word

Lord, let Thy perfect peace transform and take The Commonplace by storm

And let pure worship’s hymn resound; 'this place we stand is holy ground’

This joy, this grief , this day brand-new, this warm handshake and how-are-you

This hardship-ordered change of pace is anything but Commonplace

If we look past the part we see (the gasp before eternity) 

And recognize each grin and groan is a back-to-God steppingstone

Janet Martin