Monday Morning Mosaic

 

For farmers May is planting season

For all of us it is a gift of grace and blossom-glory!

Sometimes, when our feet and hearts hurt

we get distracted by the dirt of life and love

but no matter what, we are in the care of the Giver 

...the blossom but the bloom before the fruit;

The fruit, the fortune of harvest!

Nurtured and nourished, tossed and tested

by many a sunbeam and gale!

Whoever watches the wind will not plant;
    whoever looks at the clouds will not reap.

Eccles.11:4

Laughter leaves us feeling nourished

Longing drains delight

Kind words gladden and encourage

Harsh words crush and bite

Love is patient and forgiving

Others-ward inclined

Not intent on shallow living

With self first in mind

Hope is more than bread for hunger

Hope is for the soul

It is like a steadfast anchor

Where doubt’s billows roll

Failure makes us feel like quitting

Success makes us smile

Though the struggle is faith-gritting

God makes worth earth’s while

Heaven, beyond comprehension

Waits if faith endures

Hell should seize sober attention

Devious are its lures

Life was never a gift granted

To be a joyride

Immortality-implanted

Mortal dust is tried

Worship keeps us meek and thankful

Worry binds and blinds

Pray each day love’s flame will kindle

Heart, soul, strength and mind

Life is laughter, longing, hunger

Gain and loss's pains

Life is never growing younger

As its charter wanes  

God is love; He never leaves us

His Word, firm and true

Is the Light HE IS, to lead us

Till this life is through

© Janet Martin

Honing Happiness/Holiness

 Here we go, high and low, sun-shadow-shamble...

Twilight's bronze hinges highlight leafy fringes...

Rushes of wonder, hope, heartache and hunger

War in this wisp of God-kissed nope and yes

Depth of resentment and height of contentment

Tip scales of sacrifice or selfishness

Reason and reverence season thought’s thunder

Want’s fingers pliable or tightly-clenched

Grateful or grumbler, where beauty and blunder

Clash; calm and tempest, duty and dream-drenched

Twilight's bronze hinges highlight leafy fringes

Dawn's yellow hello soon yields to dusk's door

Splurge of new falters on merge-of-blue altars

Rise and shine flowers then fades on west-shore

Hark; the dark quiet is shedding its riot

Of stars; mist-bars melt in  gossamer gold

Eluding miser and pilfering pirate 

Happiness trembles where mercies unfold

Planting and reaping and giving and keeping

Fond, fleeting flicker twixt greeting and dirge

Sorrow's bowed weeping and laughter's wowed leaping

Morrow's unknown always on today's verge 

Hurry-up scramble or slow and sweet ramble

Where bloom and bramble delight and distress

Here we go, high and low, sun-shadow-shamble

Grin, grunt and groaning, honing happiness/holiness

© Janet Martin

1 Sam.2:2

“There is no one holy like the Lord;

there is no one besides you;

there is no Rock like our God.

We Laugh A Lot (among other things)

Sorrow will have its say

Time will have its way

Thank God for each serving from

Laughter's silver tray...

Something about mourning keens our senses 

to the immense wealth of simple things...

We open our hearts and arms to embrace

the moment, for Time guarantees nothing but its end!

This week had lots of messy moments,

but something about loss puts fresh perspective on

life's messes...especially if they're as easy to clean up as

chocolate-y faces or spilled tea, 

We laugh a lot

Though some prayers,

Still unanswered, stand in the room

Like an elephant

While we come to terms

Each in our own way, with

What we can control

And what we can’t

We work at Becoming

For He who has begun

His Promised Perfection is

Not finished yet

Sometimes we need

Undesired reminders

From Divine Authority

Lest we forget

Some laws, though

Initially inspired and

Intended to

Care and Respect

Are wrong, and sadly

In the end they

Damage (or kill) the very people

They sought to protect

Each step we take

Diminishes the

Distance between

What is seen and What Is Not

Taking God at His Word

Is the only chance

At lasting happiness

That anybody has got

We laugh between hurt-spurts 

That hone awareness of

Skin and bone heart-carts

Trundling, full of need 

We should not be slack

Concerning the promises

That we should give

Our uttermost heed

© Janet Martin

(puppy's repentance after being scolded

for giving Little Girl too many 'sloppy kisses'!)

Because neighbor's puppy is still a 'kid'

he happily disregards his owner's calls to 'come here!'

(with our assurance that it's okay)😊

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, 

and comes down from the Father of lights, 

with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning.

James 1:17

Lent to Lose (in order to find)

On Sunday our message was from Matthew 16

 including the challenge in verse 25;

"For whoever wants to save their life will lose it,

but whoever loses their life for me will find it."

Oh, how easy it is to forget

Life is a gift, lent!

...a gift with sacred reckoning

on how it is spent

Only Trust Him-Alan Jackson

This poem is inspired in part,

by a family tragedy...

On Sunday night my nephew's 19 mo. old son went missing on their farm.

His body was recovered on Monday in a manure pump.

Please pray for strength and comfort

for my brother Stuart and their family and

esp. for my nephew and his wife, Charles and Andrea!

Sometimes the certainty of sorrow tries to steal the glow

And make us worry ‘bout tomorrow and what none can know

Sometimes senses of satisfaction lose approval’s nod

As love suffers the hard attraction that points man to God

Sometimes the trouble we are born to tests want’s willful way

Tempting man with doubt’s first question ‘did God really say?’

For we see only the pieces; the picture as a whole

Must wait until God’s will releases body from the soul

Sometimes people are prone to ponder Mercy’s Upper Hand

But we were born to trust and wonder, not to understand

Born to find strength in surrender, not in a fist we raise

Born to be a humble spender of numbered, gifted days

Sometimes our own idea of what should or should not be

Makes us rebel against replies of ‘be it unto me’

Sometimes sudden loss reminds us not to take for granted

What we soon will leave behind us, back to He who lent it

© Janet Martin

 

 

 

From a Fount That Forges Memories...

Happy 2nd Birthday, sweet grand-daughter!

...though without a doubt the celebration is bittersweet this year!

This is not quite the poem I had in mind but

 circumstance sort of moved the heart in this direction today!

Details here on

Divine Design

From a fount that forges memory’s fond mementos, mercy-lent

Pours the future to a suture that weaves pictures, echo-bent

Who knows what will flow from heaven to bestow laughter and tears

Where dawn kindles what dusk dwindles until ‘lifetime’ disappears

From the hand of God (no other, lest we confuse hierarchy

And forget the One who numbers days before one came to be)

From His hand, (the fount of mercy) time’s momentous stream runs rife

Until the will of the Giver returns to Himself, each life

Sacred is the surge of seasons, slowly reeling farewell in

Holy is the toll of twilight, siphoning the soul from skin

Precious is each gifted hour, arranged step-by-steppingstone

Faithful is the loving Father drawing his dear children Home

© Janet Martin

Your eyes saw my unformed body; 

all the days ordained for me were written in your book

 before one of them came to be.

Psalm 139:16

Knowing Death is Definite

Due to an act of X-treme Stupity I'm 'smitten with sittin' today

because of a sore foot.

(in case you are wondering why another poem is written😏)

Inspired, in part by today's post by Ann Voskamp

"For nothing is nothing, darling 

No matter how small it seems"

 

This photos were sent to me yesterday after they left

taken by 'mom' unbeknownst to me😄

(Photo credit: B. H. mom of tots)

Knowing Death is definite- 

ly pending, ending time and grace 

Does it make us want to make some- 

-thing of all we touch and trace 

For nothing is nothing, darling 

No matter how small it seems 

And no one knows how much living 

Is left on the loom of dreams 

Does it makes us want to savour 

The full flavor of Today 

Labour with love’s renewed fervor 

Before one is called away 

Does it make the bitter better 

Knowing that 'this too shall pass' 

Knowing death is definite 

-ly Somewhere in life’s hour-glass 

Does it bid us garnish turmoil 

With the goodness of a smile 

And get soft and sweetly smitten 

By this ver’ precarious While 

Does it make us don warm mittens 

And make angels in the snow 

Before our names are written 

In some tear-rimmed afterglow 

Knowing Death is Definite 

-ly pending, ending all of us 

How in the world are we getting 

Ready for our exodus 

Does it draw us (in what sometimes 

Feels like small significance) 

Into the Moment-ous music

Of a Very Sacred Dance 

© Janet Martin

“100 per cent of us die, and the percentage cannot be increased. ”

― C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory

The Wonder-full Wake Of It All

This poem began with the intention of being about life

but turned into a poem that could also be about marriage

Life is full of lessons on learning how to get along and share!

Every summer the ducks at our cottage make me chuckle;

they seem like people in a way; some greedy and noisy

 and others more easy-going as they learn how to share

their food and their lake😊 

You know how it is; the kick and the kiss 

The sorrow that sweetens the joy 

The worlds that fly through hello and good-bye 

The duty that gathers our dreams in a sigh 

The beauty that feathers a tear to our eye 

And weathers the once-girl-and-boy 

You know how it goes, high-fives and low blows 

The wonder-full wake of it all 

The twist, turn and tug, the live-learn, the hug 

The pain-staking prayers for loads that we lug 

The haste of a year full of chug-chug-chug 

The sparkle of stars as they fall 

You know how it hurts; for better or worse 

So worth keeping hand to the plow 

The pull and the shove as we work through the rough 

Knowing sometimes showing up is enough 

Heave-ho, hold, let go, for the sake of love 

And the sanctity of a vow 

You know how it takes what we have and makes 

A heart-and-soul art-gallery 

The tint of Time slips through fingers and lips 

My, how the brush of the rush of days drips 

Into a mural of tempests and ships 

And by God’s grace, love’s legacy 

© Janet Martin 

 

 

Let each of you look out not only for his own interests, 

but also for the interests of others.

Phil.2:4

A Memo for Sailors (on life's sea)

As we set sail on a new day, 

whether the waters are smooth 

...or choppy

...may we trust in the One that even the winds and waves obey!

Matt.8:26

But He said to them/us, 

“Why are you fearful, O you of little faith?” 

Then He arose and rebuked the winds and the sea, 

and there was a great calm.

Psalm 65:7
You stilled the roaring of the seas, 

the pounding of their waves, 

and the tumult of the nations.

Matthew 6:30
If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, 

which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, 

will He not much more clothe you, 

O you of little faith?

Matthew 14:31
Immediately Jesus reached out His hand and took hold of Peter.

 "You of little faith," He said, "why did you doubt?"

Today; no more or less is granted to our mortal barge 

No one can sail spent seas or borrow morrow’s ‘Maybe’ charge 

The weight of past or future’s freight will sink these jars of clay 

If we attempt to bear life’s care not portioned for Today 

Faith’s frigate forges forward where the shore is veiled in This 

No one can see how near or far Hope’s sacred harbour is 

But this we know; He goes before us and will not forsake 

But promises sufficient grace for every breath we take 

Ah, who has strength enough for more than today’s toil and tiff 

Who can fulfill its call full-well while wearied with ‘what if’ 

And who has ever by some fretting threat of come-what-may 

Been given more to muster or to master, than today 

What good can we accomplish by peering into the mist 

While imagination runs wild and fear clenches its fist 

Lord, draw our eyes to You and as we do, shine through the fray 

To refill joy where, ships ahoy, we trust you for Today 

© Janet Martin

One little girl in my childcare LOVES this song

and gave me Peter, James and John in a sailboat for Christmas!😍

A great reminder-song for fishermen and sailors of all ages!

Another great song!!!

Jesus, Only Jesus

Thirst Quencher

Sometimes despondency is due to the evil one seeking to destroy

but sometimes it is due to sin robbing us of love's pure joy...

Isaiah 12:3
With joy you will draw water from the springs of salvation,

John 10:10

The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy. 

I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly.

So that we may have life, and have it more abundantly 

More than a forward-facing flight of ‘what might yet still be’ 

So that we may have life I AM became a man to show 

The Way we ought to live and love so that all men may know 

So that we may have life beyond this blip of you-and-I 

From this world to the next He came man’s Access to supply 

While we were still dead in our sins Life came and died for us 

Providing full redemption through His perfect Son, Jesus 

So that we may have life and have it more abundantly 

More than a grin-and-bear-it strife of what-must-be-must-be 

For I AM came and through His name our frames, though drought assails 

Will be well-watered gardens, like a spring that never fails 

The more abundant life is not a pampered gaiety

Not for the faint of heart or those who hate humility

Oh Lord, restore in us once more the image of Your Son

So we, with joy draw water from the spring of Salvation

So that we may have life, and have it more abundantly 

More than a forward-facing flight of timed futility

So that we may have life I AM became a man to show 

The Way we ought to live so love's well-springs will overflow 

© Janet Martin

The evil one burdens us with what isn't.

the righteous One frees us and fills us with joy through Who IS!!

On this glorious morning in this joyous season

though not a Christmas carol, the song below certainly could be

Hail to the Brightness of Zion's Glad Morning

To be like a well-watered garden,

like a spring whose waters do not fail

does not happen by ourselves 

but is contingent upon a sacred 'If' 

Isa.58:9-11

Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer;

You shall cry, and He will say, ‘Here I am.’

“If you take away the yoke from your midst,

The [e]pointing of the finger, and speaking wickedness,

10If you extend your soul to the hungry

And satisfy the afflicted soul,

Then your light shall dawn in the darkness,

And your [f]darkness shall be as the noonday.

11The Lord will guide you continually,

And satisfy your soul in drought,

And strengthen your bones;

You shall be like a watered garden,

And like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail.

A Christmas Goodie!

Light of the Stable

I Remember Spring

Writer's digest PAD Challenge 14:

For today’s prompt, write a memory poem.

I remember spring

The green of love and life

 Where thought unfurled a wonder-world

Of dream-streams running rife 

I remember spring

When time seemed on my side

Before it drew youth's years into

Its unrelenting tide

I remember spring

Uninhibited grin

Before the scars from fallen stars

Etched wisdom's start within 

I remember spring

Then summer came and went

Now Autumn's leaf I know is brief

Ere I am winter-bent

(optional)

I am Autumn-content

Long gone, spring's budding trees

That soft unfurled a wonder-world

Of moments such as these

or

Of precious memories

 

© Janet Martin

Like A Scarf...

Everything we see is like a scarf 

wrapped around 

More Than Meets the Eye

There's no doubt about it; 

the colour-clock is counting down its tints, 

leaf by leaf, 

like a scarf dismantling

stitch by stitch

Beneath our feet the bittersweet fragments of glory gleam...

The rain drains woodlands of mosaics; scarlet yields to gray 

The wind dwindles leaf-kindled awe as autumn awnings fray 

Beneath our feet the bittersweet fragments of glory gleam 

A little bit like echoes from a fond and altered dream 

The gold that boldly stole our breath while death regaled our view 

With leafy-limbed apparel sketched on backdrops brooding-blue 

Surrenders; for the Splendor cannot keep at bay the toll 

That dismantles tree-mantles like the veil that shrouds the Soul 

Earth’s smorgasbord of beauty is a marvel to behold 

But Time, the tireless Tutor soon reveals more than the mold 

And we who once were deluded by what our eyes applaud 

Become attuned to sums beneath the first-fruits of façade 

The Season-clock is never knocked off-kilter; day by day 

And leaf by leaf and tick by tock Death stalks its primal prey 

Where breath by breath we weave a wreath like leaf or flower-chains 

Till the circle of life falls like a scarf from What Remains

 

© Janet Martin

Mist-kissed

What is your life? 

You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.

James 4:14

This Thing that wears our patience thin with grace-lent grin and groan 

That hones the character within these skiffs of skin and bone 

That tests the measure of a man and adjusts attitude 

That vexes people’s precious plan with trouble’s interlude 

That breaks the hull of hearts and dreams for love’s incumbent Chief 

And makes us more the same, it seems, because love’s price is grief 

That proves the master of the mind by what we do and say 

Where consequence is never blind to what we sow today 

This Thing that makes us laugh and weep and keep score but to fail 

Where both the bitter and the sweet are poured from Mercy’s Grail 

This Thing fashioned with gifted days time garners into years 

Is but a breath of misted haze that softly disappears 

Until the Giver of its lease through farewell’s ordained Must 

Retrieves once more the Sacred Piece that outlives dust-to-dust 

And ends This Thing that we call life where what seems commonplace 

Will rend this wink of joy and strife to unveil Mercy’s Face 

© Janet Martin 

Common Bond-age

We all have a cuppa sorrow

Harbour hungers, hurts and fears

No one knows what waits tomorrow

To arouse laughter or tears

We all feel that vexing yearning

Complex to articulate

We are all still always learning

Learn to listen, learn to wait

We all hold a world within us

From whence hopes and dreams beseech

While the flail of seasons winnows

Times and places from our reach

We all sense the verge of progress

That is out of our control

But we also all have access

To the Keeper of the soul

…who sees wounds and longs to bind them

In whose presence abides peace

Pray then that we seek and find Him

Before grace withdraws its lease

We all have a cuppa sorrow

Battlegrounds no one can see

Save the One who holds tomorrow

With Supreme Authority

Not one of us is forgotten

God so loved the world that he

Gave His Son, Jesus begotten

To redeem humanity

So, though life is full of hurtles

And the sufferings of dust

We all instilled with Immortal

Have a God that we can trust

© Janet Martin

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, 

and I will give you rest.

Matt.11:28