The Way It Goes...

gardening always drives home

the raw reality

of the circle of life...

The way it goes

Each perfect rose

Succumbs to time’s incumbent must

And all that breathes

Surely bequeaths

Its tallied timbre to the dust

Then, toss thy head

But don’t forget

Each lilting leaf will fade and fall

And rise and shine

But keep in mind

The Lord and Master of it all

This circle of

Life’s learn-laugh-love

by strength’s reason might grant four-score

But that last breath

Ushers in death

How utter then, forevermore

© Janet Martin

Psalm 103:14-16

 14 For He Himself knows our frame;
            He is mindful that we are but dust.

      15As for man, his days are like grass;
            As a flower of the field, so he flourishes.

      16When the wind has passed over it, it is no more,
            And its place acknowledges it no longer.

to stop reading here sounds rather futile, doesn't it?!
THIS is verse 17&18
 But the lovingkindness of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting
on those who fear Him,
            And His righteousness to children’s children,
      18To those who keep His covenant
            And remember His precepts to do them.
...and verse 13?
 Just as a father has compassion on his children,
            So the LORD has compassion on those who fear Him.

This Sacred Life

Happy Half-way Through June

...a month always gone-too-soon!

...and the dust returns to the ground it came from,
 and the spirit returns to God who gave it.
Eccles.12:7

This sacred life, each breath not like sands strewn upon the shores of time

But threads that weave the treads we celebrate and grieve as up we climb

Where all too soon the sun and moon and stars shall dim their lofty flame

As dethroned skin and bone returns from whence it came and Soul the same

This sacred life oft runs too rife with critics and ways to condemn

Rather than servants ministering like The Good Samaritan

Oh Lord, convict us lest we fall prey to the pomp and show of pride

Rather than bear hate’s stripes and scorn in honour of The Crucified

This sacred life is like a flicker on the wick of Evermore

A prelude filled with bickering and battles where faith and fear war

Before a stone-cold door swings shut on all but Death’s Great Mystery

As our last breath gives way to the on-ness of Immortality

This sacred life, how dare we raise a fist to fellowman or God

But cling with humble reckoning to He who cups sky, sea and sod

Where grace and discipline are rendered by a tender Rod and Staff

By He who did not spare His Son but gave Him up on our behalf

To be the Saviour of the Soul; ah, this instills that sacred chord

Where views will be distorted if not seen through the lens of God's Word

For He so loved the world He gave His only Son to pay the price

As sin’s ransom once and for all; we are saved through love’s sacrifice

This sacred life, bought with the blood of king of kings and Lord of lords

Is a gift to be treasured, not fought with the smite of word-shaped swords

Oh Lord, forgive we who forget and wield a tyrant’s hateful knife

To hurt rather than help a precious fellow-mate of sacred life

© Janet Martin

I wrote this yesterday morning after listening to this video...

... just before this message below from one of our ministers at WBC
explaining a parable I have often puzzled over!
Thank-you Richard!

both reminding us of the sacredness of this SHORT life
of numbered days

Birth Beckons Celebration

Birth beckons celebration; whether babe, a bloom, a pup

New day that spills o’er yonder hills from Mercy’s brimming cup

Hope, like a hearty handshake, refreshes happiness

As beauty, God’s stayed signature anoints life’s ugliness

Where we, a host of beggars by the grace of Holy God

Are treated, free of charge to awesome art of sky and sod

Over the ash of ages and the bones of silenced cries

Birth frees from fettered cages the proof of God’s kind replies

Where death spills blood and stills the pulse (sometimes ‘neath human hands)

But breath that ushers birth only Life’s Bestower commands

For once life has departed no one can its voice revive

And only birth can keep the earth rejoicing and alive

Birth beckons celebration; like a poem penned by He

The author of salvation, to His beloved family

Where, midst the groaning turmoil beneath man, death would be chief

But hark; a puppy barks, a baby cries, dawn breaks, buds leaf

We lift our heads, a melody woos above brutal wars

And from Time’s teardrop riddled trench the human spirit soars

© Janet Martin

 For with you is the fountain of life;
    in your light we see light.

Psalm 36:9 

The whole glorious psalm here,

as fitting for these days

as in days of old!

I have a message from God in my heart
    concerning the sinfulness of the wicked:^[b]
There is no fear of God
    before their eyes.

² In their own eyes they flatter themselves
    too much to detect or hate their sin.
³ The words of their mouths are wicked and deceitful;
    they fail to act wisely or do good.
⁴ Even on their beds they plot evil;
    they commit themselves to a sinful course
    and do not reject what is wrong.

⁵ Your love, Lord, reaches to the heavens,
    your faithfulness to the skies.
⁶ Your righteousness is like the highest mountains,
    your justice like the great deep.
    You, Lord, preserve both people and animals.
⁷ How priceless is your unfailing love, O God!
    People take refuge in the shadow of your wings.
⁸ They feast on the abundance of your house;
    you give them drink from your river of delights.
⁹ For with you is the fountain of life;
    in your light we see light.

¹⁰ Continue your love to those who know you,
    your righteousness to the upright in heart.
¹¹ May the foot of the proud not come against me,
    nor the hand of the wicked drive me away.
¹² See how the evildoers lie fallen—
    thrown down, not able to rise!

Life, A Little Word With Big Ramification

Gardening...a mixed bag of flowers and frustration!

these flowers didn't even get to bloom 

before an army of green caterpillars destroyed them over night!

 

so, no columbines this year.

 

Life...a mixed bag of celebration and sorrow!

The bleeding hearts that survived the May snows are beautiful!

 The hostas are being mangled by something but not sure what!

Usually hosta look good at least for a little before the snails destroy them

but I don't think this is snails. Too many pieces lying around!

But, this is life...a series of problem-solving!

Life, its very word involves us; inhale, exhale, fragile cord

Leasing to each one the onus of its blessing from the Lord

Life, a very small but serious undertaking of a toll

Where a shawl of fleeting fabric veils the All of deathless soul

Soon the summary of choices will unfold the doer’s due

Soon life’s orchestra of voices will fade from earth’s avenue

Life, how often we must struggle to weather its ‘my, oh my’

Where this ephemeral bubble holds much more than meets the eye

Life, how uncertain the nearness to the end of numbered days

When we open up our eyes and only Jesus fills our gaze

© Janet Martin

 
Ecclesiastes 3:2
a time to be born and a time to die, 

a time to plant and a time to uproot,