Of Gifts and Givers...

 Working at some canning this evening, listening to the rain and thinking...

 

Imagine receiving a gift, turning it over in your hands, marveling and exclaiming at its loveliness but never turning to acknowledge or thank the giver. Imagine if we gave a gift and the recipient dashed off after snatching it out of our hands without a backward glance or smile or thank-you…

He fills the dawn with daylight

He fills the night with rest

He fills the seed with what we need

Before we make request

He refills while we empty

He spills; we take and eat

He wills; and we go forth, He fills

The hills with meadow-sweet   

He tilts the fount of blessing

To shower us with grace

We drink and often never think

About a Giver’s face

He opens wide His storehouse

And fills the earth with plants

Fruit tumbles to our humble reach

In spite of ignorance

How gross our utter wanting

How base our needy ways

To take yet never bow our heads

Or lift to God our praise

© Janet Martin

I know I shared this song a little while ago but it bears a repeat...

Because Every Day is a New Gift From God

We are not worthy yet o’er star-strewn sky

Grace gently brushes night-shadows awry

Where is this vault from whence Time flows, how deep?

Where is the spigot from whence hours weep?

We do not know when will toll parting’s song

But this we do; time is short, death is long

How will we touch then and how will we fill

This gift of grace from a Giver’s good will?

See how its river of light sweeps the sky?

See how it rushes in silent good-bye?

See, where the land was cupped in midnight’s hold

How it is brimming in beckoning gold?

We dare not squander this heaven-lent Thing

None are entitled to Time’s offering

But from a place none can mete or control

God pours His mercy into night’s dark bowl   

May we be zealous and gratitude shod

Because every day is a new gift from God

© Janet Martin

The Best Gift We Can Give...

We won’t find it on their wish-list

They don’t ask for it by name

But as we shop this Christmas

We should remember it

All the same

It doesn’t look very fancy

It’s not expensive, and yet

It can be the most important thing

That all too often

We forget

Because it’s never on their wish-list

We can’t find it on a shelf

But this gift is so precious

Both for our child

And for our self

It’s nice to wrap their presents

To see them dance and smile

But Things are soon forgotten

Their pleasure lasts

But a little while

Beneath the shiny paper

Are toys and treats, books and blocks

But the thing they’ll most remember

Is something we can’t

Fit in a box

It’s a most special present

They’ll remember as long as they live

For to give them our Time

Lots and lots of our Time

Is the most priceless gift

We can ever give

© Janet Martin

Most Valuable Gift

Today is the most important day

That ever there will come to be

Yesterday has passed away

Tomorrow is a fantasy

For every deed that man has wrought

Or every lesson, come what may

Of living’s trial and error lot

Is taught in what we call Today

Yesterday sleeps in Time’s grave

Tomorrow is a mystery

Today is all we’ll ever have

Before it folds to history

Today, above all else we hold

Is Love’s most precious, priceless gift

Of Heaven’s charge in moment-gold

Before to past’s vast sea they drift

© Janet Martin

Now is the Season of Love

Now is the season of love

Where true appetites are exposed

As dollars become proof

Of who or what we love the most

                    

Words offer a sleek facade

While action plays its part

The wise man seeks, knowing that God

Beholds our very heart

Will we be a wise man too

Seeking Christ the King

Bearing humble gifts of love

As we come to worship Him?

Now is the season of love

Oh, what will our love-offering be?

Will it be more than presents

Beneath the Christmas tree?

...and will this season of love
Come simply to pass
Like flakes of melting snow
Or jaded blooms upon the grass

© Janet Martin

Affordable Gift for Any Season

None of us are quite so poor

That we cannot bestow

A word of kind encouragement

As we come or as we go

None of us are quite so rich

As to be unaffected

By words of kind encouragement

Far too often neglected

© Janet Martin

Of Purpose, Passion and Poetry

Sometimes I fear

It may seem trite

To string words together

To soothe and delight

As many suffer

Begging for relief

From pain, fear, sorrow

And gut-wrenching grief

As wars rage

And innocent die

As the homeless wander

And the lonely cry

But then again

Surely there ever must be

Room for hope

For love and beauty

As nature reminds us

This earth is mere sod

Forever at the mercy

And order of God

And surely then

There must ever be

Room in this world

For poetry

© Janet Martin

Sometimes I really struggle with being certain of my calling. I would hate to devote my thought, time and energy to something God did not intend and it is easy doubt; yet we trust that if we plant for Him then God will give the increase.

We all are created with purpose and talents

God, teach us how to employ

Our gifts and passions to Your honor and glory

So we may hear these words with joy…

‘Well done, my good and faithful servant’.

A Carpe Diem

Poetic Bloomings invites us to attempt a Carpe Diem poem

Carpe Diem is the Latin expression that means ‘seize the day.’ Carpe Diem poems have a theme of living for today. It is a form in intent only; it is solely based on a theme.

Yesterday is sealed in the archives

Tomorrow is nothing more

Than the hope of something we cannot see

Today is worth living for

Today is the cup we are holding

Touch it to your lips; draw it in

Be imbibed with His goodness and mercy

Dripping recklessly from your grin

Seize the moment before you

Wring out every wonder of it

Let not one measure be wasted

Today is a beautiful gift

© Janet Martin

Trying to Make Sense of It All...

 These flowers are blooming beside the road.

Jesus said: "Consider how the lilies grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. Luke 12:27

The dandelion beams, quite unabashed

Beneath the sprawling arches of the oak

The spruce and pine retain their common sash

Midst the flamboyant flare of autumn’s cloak

Nature; canvas of quiet miracles

Expounds life lessons in meek, wordless truth

It illustrates in petal-parables

A message fitted for senior or youth

A paradigm of wisdom is revealed

As we consider lilies of the field

***

We cannot spin the unknown on a wheel

And weave its filament to our thought

The threads we hold pass through a Higher Will

Though we may pull and strain against the knot

The human nature; it resists, rebels

A covetous and restless, striving throng

Whilst on the eve the song of sparrow swells

In praise to He who fills its mouth with song

We ought to raise our gifted threads to Him

Content to let His finger shape and trim

***

The Artist paints; His master-piece appears

Gradually; not in one afternoon

The acorn sprouts; it does not count the years

Before it reaches to the low-flung moon

And we, well we seem prone to boast or fret

Not at all like the lily of the field

It simply blooms while quickly we forget

And turn again to folly’s temporal yield

Who can explain His reason or His rhyme?

The answer to so many things, is Time

© Janet Martin

I have one child who is certain God forgot to give him/her a ‘special gift/talent’. Our reassurances/reminders otherwise will not persuade, so I tried to remind this one that not all things/gifts are revealed to us immediately. Realizations and master-pieces take time…

Sometimes waiting is a great Refiner. Being content with who God created us to be; THAT in itself is a great gift!

...and sometimes one can't see the forest for the trees!:)

For This is Love...

He does not give for our gain

His gifts are not to keep

But to be shared again, again

To let His goodness leap

From hand to hand, from heart to heart

We fill Time’s mortal glove

With gifted gifts that He imparts

…for this is love

© Janet Martin

Considering This...

I cannot serve my Maker

With my fellow-man’s tool

To wish for his talent

Is to think like a fool

But I can serve fully

If willing I’ll be

To use for His honor

The gifts He gave me

To covet the beauty

In my neighbor’s field

Is to shirk my own duty

And portend of its yield

Servant or master

It matters not

As long as we give Him

The best that we’ve got

© Janet Martin