Sometimes I Miss The Bliss of Ignorance

This post began taking shape through some very precious get togethers

 with friends of Lucy's who have now become friends of mine.

What bittersweet joy these friendships hold...(for both sides)

as we near the 7 mo. mark since she left this world for the next.

Today marks a year since this community

mourned/mourns the loss of a dear wife, mother and friend...

This poem is written

In Loving Memory of Kelly and Lucy

These photos were lovingly composed mementos from a caring friend...

 

Sometimes I miss the bliss of ignorance borne happily

Till sorrow tore the front door from the hinges of my heart

And I welcomed in strangers who were friends waiting to be

To teach me lessons about love and friendship’s priceless part/art

Sometimes, in the raw longing of remembering Her face

I fear that I would trade them all for one more sacred chance/dance

To linger without looking at the clock, in the embrace

Between hello and the farewell that Time never recants

Sometimes goodness and mercy’s Tender Shepherd steals my breath

He comforts me; and crowns my grief with joy, words cannot spell

He draws my want beyond the somber outer folds of death

(Futile to lean upon the place where last Her shadow fell)

Beyond the somber outer folds of Death, I gaze because

The bitter cup of grief when tipped is like a curtain-rise

Then, sometimes when I miss the bliss of ignorance, I pause

And thank God for the unveiling of angels in disguise 

© Janet Martin

 

 

 

While God Works Together For Good...

Lucy's love for bikes is evident in her home décor...

Wall print 

cushion...

door-knob-bling...

Rom.8:28

And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God,

to those who are the called according to His purpose.

The above reference is printed on a chalk board in my sister's Lucy's kitchen,

in the wake of her death;

 a chalkboard that always held a favourite quote, 

bible verse or nugget of wisdom...

Today marks one month since her passing 💔🙏

mentioned  HERE Sorrowful blog break)

The break turned out shorter than I thought it would.

I guess poetry is how I process life...and death

Yesterday our church family, along with extended family and friends

laid to rest a dear brother, age 60, 

our care pastor, as well as a husband, dad and grandpa 

who, only a few weeks previously, was diagnosed with cancer...

'life seems a blur of tears, prayers and indescribable comfort'

I texted my sister this morning as we remembered the one month mark

of Lucy's sudden departure!

(my brother-in-law/ Lucy's husband, said,

 'it feels like yesterday and a lifetime ago')

 ...exactly!! 

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

Matt. 5:4 

Through the truth in the above verse, 

we are being incomprehensibly blessed

***

We do not understand the good that oft wears grief’s disguise

Lord, help us trust Thy hand that could have stayed the test that tries

But did not; help us yield our heart with ‘not my will but Thine’

While we behold the bitter part logic cannot define

While You work together for good the brokenness of dreams

And wills, and love misunderstood where mercy’s tide still streams

And works in ways foreign to us, oft ruled by what we see

Oh Lord, our God help us to trust the hope we have in Thee

…while you work together for good beyond most noble thought

Thy purpose, when Thy Hand that could have spared Thee, but did not

You loved, obedient to death (even death on a cross)

Then, help us, with each gifted breath to humbly suffer loss

While You work together for good this life’s troubles, oh God

Help us to not despise the rude appearance of Thy rod

But help us trust in Thee, without explanation’s demands

As we surrender every doubt into Thy nail-scarred hands

While You work together for good that which seems cruelty

While through the power of Your blood, hope abides faithfully

Through every circumstance unkind, while love and mercy pour/roar

Help us, with heart, soul, strength and mind to trust you more and more

© Janet Martin

I spend one day a week with my mother-in-law.

This afternoon while she snoozed I read through

the memories shared in this book by Lucy's friends and family,

(so touching and precious)

Until today, I just couldn't collect my thoughts enough to attempt writing anything

Today I tried...this is the last bit.

'Oh, how I miss her'

In Loving Memory of my Sister, Lucy

This is the bitter-sweetest poem I have ever written...

Dear Lucy,

Your garden shoes at the back door

Your jacket on the hook

Your beautiful flowers galore

Your latest favourite book

Your mementos of such and such

You thoughtfully arranged

All leave behind your tender touch

Death suddenly estranged

The datebook you kept in your mind

How we would marvel, dear

At the methods you used to find

The day, the month, the year

With ‘I remember this because

We picked the pears before…

We went to…(then) how the weather was

And what outfit you wore’

While we would laugh and marvel at

Your sentimental trove

You turned to gifts of this and that

To touch someone with love

And shape part of the thing that Death

Both takes and leaves, in sync

The life we lived; as gifted breath

Spills in permanent ink

Dear Lucy, daughter, sister, wife

Mother, grandmother, friend

Your legacy of love in life

Was faithful to the end

Where part of you is silenced now

Yet much of you lives on

Love never fails, no matter how

We wish you were not gone

Our God who ordained all your days

Before one came to be

Though we cannot fathom His ways

Will help love (us) faithfully

To bear all things, believe all things

To hope all things, endure

His pardon that salvation brings

Holds living hope secure

Thus, we have no cause to rebel

Against His perfect plan

But rather, to live each day well

And love while we still can

Dear all of us who yet remain

Who only see in part

God never fails; He knows our pain

He heals the broken heart

Yes. I know we will dearly miss

Dear Lucy’s smiling face

Her cards and notes, signed, love, your sis

Her words of cheer and grace

Her questions, oh, her questions, and

Her quirky observance

Her always ready helping hand

Her lovely compliments

But, as we contemplate our store

Of precious memories

We cannot help but thank God for

Love’s favours, such as these

Farewell for now, dear sister-friend

Although our teardrops flow

We know that this is not the end

But just farewell, for now

In loving memory of my sweet sister, Lucy

Janet Martin

Lucy took a kind and generous interest in my writing and poetry blog,

often checking in to see if everything is okay

if for some reason a few days passed without a poem!

I will really, really miss writing, in part, for her!

Love… bears all things,

believes all things,

hopes all things,

endures all things.

Love never fails.

1 Cor.13:7-8

The Lily Blooms Again

 

Inspired by the funeral of Queen Elizabeth II

A few precious passages, familiar to believers

warmed, comforted and exhorted we who remain...

Psalm 103:13-18

As a father has compassion on his children,

so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him;

14 for he knows how we are formed,

he remembers that we are dust.

15 The life of mortals is like grass,

they flourish like a flower of the field;

16 the wind blows over it and it is gone,

and its place remembers it no more.

17 But from everlasting to everlasting

the Lord’s love is with those who fear him,

and his righteousness with their children’s children—

18 with those who keep his covenant

and remember to obey his precepts.

Rev. 21:1-4

Then I saw “a new heaven and a new earth,”[a] 

for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away,

 and there was no longer any sea. 

2 I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, 

prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband.

 3 And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying,

 “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. 

They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. 

4 ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. 

There will be no more death’[b] 

or mourning or crying or pain, 

for the old order of things has passed away.”

So many moving images...

The Lily’s bloom is shed

Her crown of glory spent

The scepter falls, as silver thread

Of mortal breath is rent

The Lily’s splendor lies

In funereal repose

Her final flight escapes the eyes

Fixed on life’s curtain-close

The Lily’s beauty bows

Beneath the Hand of He

Whose law is love, whose kingdom flows

Throughout eternity

The Lily’s stem is shorn

Though petals deck the sod

Her darling, deathless Bud is borne

Back to the arms of God

So, though we mourn the loss

Of touch, of sight and sound

The Lily sheds the albatross

Of glory, sorrow-crowned

Where tears will never fall

Where flowers never fade

No roses strewn in farewell’s thrall

As dust to dust is laid

The Lily is not dead

But fairer now than then

In the presence of God instead

The Lily blooms again

© Janet Martin

In memory of Queen Elizabeth II, with love

Yet Hope Lives

 

(my brother's grandson)

In Memory of Cody Troy

August 27, 2019-March 28,2021

Yet Hope Lives

When God reaches down from Heaven

For a child, so sweet and fair

Hearts with sorrow’s pangs are riven

We are tempted to despair

When death claims a life so tender

Grief is raw and tender too

Yet Hope lives as we remember

Where this little angel flew

Safe within the arms of Jesus

Is the little child He lent

For a little while to please us

And make homes and hearts content

Gifting gladness with their laughter

Weaving through grief’s agonies

Fond echoes that linger after

Touch has turned to memories

God ordains our days of passage

Before one has come to be

Some He spares from life’s cruel heartaches

Some must suffer patiently

So, by grace that we are given

We will hope and not despair

When God reaches down from Heaven

For a child so sweet and fair

© Janet Martin

Of Fellow and Fallen Soldiers

 While we drove yesterday, little Miss Three-and-a-half named everything she saw

..."I see a house, a field, a tree etc...

then in a sudden change of tone I heard her say,

"I see a lot of soldiers. Bye soldiers. We miss you"

I looked; we were passing a graveyard.

Something in her 3yr.old mind equated graves with fallen soldiers!

Fitting, isn't it? Life gives all its 'soldiers' battles to fight, some public, some private.

...and on this note happy, happy first day of December! 😀

We smile, groan, gasp and grasp the hands

Of fellow-soldiers, for we know

Alone we fall, allied we stand

As sands of seasons ebb and flow

The tender love that drives us on

Wreaks havoc, oft where none can see

For ‘nothing new under the sun’

Is often new to you and me

This skin we wear is sure to show

If given time enough, war-scars

They come with hold and letting go

And tasting salty sorrow-stars

We charge beneath the glist’ring sun

And wade through tides of morn to night

Battalion dependent on

Life's Chief Captain for strength and light

…and on we forge through gorge and bog

Where past and future briefly merge

To shape the battlefields agog

With living’s temp’ramental splurge

Before that somber meeting place

When one among our numbers falls

And leaves this force of hope and grace

In response to the Captain’s call

An Ultimate we all will brave

Where dust-to dust is bittersweet

Memorialized around a grave

That marks the resting place for feet

…as The Great Mystery within

Embarks where feet have never trod

When mortal steps out of its skin

And returns to life's Giver;  God

© Janet Martin

In Memory of Gordon James Pringle 

The Armor of God 

Eph.6:10-18

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in His mighty power.  

Put on the full armor of God, so that you can make your stand against the devil’s schemes.  

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, 

against the powers of this world’s darkness, 

and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.

Therefore take up the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, 

you will be able to stand your ground, and having done everything, to stand. 

Stand firm then, with the belt of truth fastened around your waist, 

with the breastplate of righteousness arrayed,

and with your feet fitted with the readiness of the gospel of peace.

In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, 

with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one.

And take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

Pray in the Spirit at all times, with every kind of prayer and petition. 

To this end, stay alert with all perseverance in your prayers for all the saints.

Memory's Roses

 

What sacred sympathies

What soothing melodies entwine

As sweet, sweet memories, my love

Keep your heart next to mine

Ah, happiness and grief

Mingle in bitter-sweetest throes

Death’s farewell is so brief, my love

The dark can wear a rose

And though we must let go

We hold on to love’s dearest part

The place where mem’ries flow, my love

And keep us heart to heart

The dark is not unkind

Though vows that bind are severed, oh,

God soothes the heart and mind, my love

Where memory-roses grow

© Janet Martin

Roses at Midnight

How precious were those moments

How dear the common hour

Like buds that gently opened

Into petals of a flower

Love’s laughter was like sunshine

It’s suff’ring like the rain

Its seasons like the rose and thorn

Of life’s pleasure and pain

How hardly we had held them

Before they fell away

Rose petals on a garden

In a world of yesterday

And where there had been laughter

Where rafters rang with cheer

It seemed that ever after

Surely love would wear a tear

The bough of bloom was broken

The loom of gladness rent

Where sorrow was love’s token

Of a lifetime fully spent

But God, so rich in mercy

From petals grace bestows

Stirs from love’s tender mem’ry

The beauty of a rose

From folds of sweetest fragrance

When night is dark and still

The power of mere moments

Performs a miracle

What precious, precious comfort

Fond memories can impart

As roses bloom at midnight

In gardens of the heart

 Janet Martin