Considering Gifts...

This is the time of year our thoughts start considering gift-giving;

the perfect Something for that precious someone...

 whilst wandering through isles laden with gifts, free for the 'taking'...

Considering that a week ago there was not a flake of snow to be seen

it does feel like winter literally arrived overnight!

(so, I am attempting to acclimate my delight to white-gilded glories/gifts)

Each day nature's buffet is laden with pleasures to share

Each season filled with reasons to run worship through with prayer

To He who grants fresh chances to awaken and rejoice

As He delights appetites for beauty through nature's voice

Each day a smorgasbord of the Lord's handiwork unfurls

Where Nature is a caterer with pocket full of pearls

And tables spread with green, gold, red and white; beneath, above

We witness He whose majesty earth offers glimpses of 

Each day fresh wonder thunders through the chambers of the heart

If we with slower pace embrace the study of God's art

And pause with awestruck posture, and holy humility

In the ache of a snowflake's astounding intricacy

Each day nature's showcase abounds with sounds and sights to thrill

And remind us because of love's kind Giver, to be still 

And trust the Teacher of the creature without skeptic doubt

To join the hymn that seraphim of earth and heavens shout

Janet Martin

O Worship the King

O worship the King all glorious above

Author: Robert Grant (1833)

Tune: LYONS

O worship the King all-glorious above,

O gratefully sing his power and his love:

our shield and defender, the Ancient of Days,

pavilioned in splendor and girded with praise.

2 O tell of his might and sing of his grace,

whose robe is the light, whose canopy space.

His chariots of wrath the deep thunderclouds form,

and dark is his path on the wings of the storm.

3 Your bountiful care, what tongue can recite?

It breathes in the air, it shines in the light;

it streams from the hills, it descends to the plain,

and sweetly distills in the dew and the rain.

4 Frail children of dust, and feeble as frail,

in you do we trust, nor find you to fail.

Your mercies, how tender, how firm to the end,

our Maker, Defender, Redeemer, and Friend!

5 O measureless Might, unchangeable Love,

whom angels delight to worship above!

Your ransomed creation, with glory ablaze,

in true adoration shall sing to your praise!

Psalm 8:3-6

3 When I consider Your heavens, the work of Your fingers,

The moon and the stars, which You have ordained,

4 What is man that You are mindful of him,

And the son of man that You visit[a] him?

5 For You have made him a little lower than [b]the angels,

And You have crowned him with glory and honor.

6 You have made him to have dominion over the works of Your hands;

You have put all things under his feet,

Read full chapter

An Evolving Evaluation (of Evidence)

Today's poem began with a 'blush hush/rush' soon filled with workday noise!

 Happy workday, everyone! 

(and my heart/prayers go out to all who wish they could work and can't)

I hope today's poem grants a splash of joy and good cheer!

This poem kind of evolved with the dissolving of daybreak...

from texts from Young Mother...

...from rumble of industry

 

from not knowing where to begin

to count the ways of Evidence of Him...

all on a backdrop of Mercy's evidence renewed...

Dawn’s blush hush/rush fills with workday noise

Nature’s showcase unveils fresh joys

That none can claim with boastful pride

Where colors of the countryside

Like ever-changing works of art

Amaze the mind and thrill the heart

Evoking a hymn, like a prayer

In praise to One beyond compare

Whose ways we cannot comprehend

Whose faithfulness will never end

Whose Word is trustworthy and true

Whose promises naught can undo

Where, as dawn slips on workday hues/shoes

As industry resumes its dues

And motherhood its sacred charge

As dawn unmoors its teeming barge

How humbly wonderful to know

Whose goodness none can overthrow

Whose hope is sure, whose hand will guide

From break of day to eventide

Where nature’s showcase spills God’s heart

In unparalleled works of art

Where earth and sky declare His name

Inviting/compelling us to do the same

A wealth of wonder waits. Ahoy

Nature’s showcase erupts with joy

We hardly know where to begin

To count the frames, we see God in

Creation’s cradles stream and brim

With countless evidence of Him

Making more pitiful the clod

Who clings to denials of God

Making meeker all who believe

Because of the grace we receive

Making gladder the humbler prayer

To He who knows each creature care

© Janet Martin

Romans 1:20

For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—

his eternal power and divine nature—

have been clearly seen, 

being understood from what has been made, 

so that people are without excuse.

Whose hope is sure, whose hand will guide

From break of day to eventide...

Delight's Attention Spans

A few delights caught on camera,

that helped inspire today's poem...

Clouds heaped on deeps of boundless blue, 

a grape-embellished vine...

He spills Majesty’s showcases, in petals, paper-thin...

A flower in its precious prime,

 a bud, bursting to tell

 (I am so eager for this hibiscus to begin blooming!!)

A bloom, bowed by the toll of Time’s unyielding carousel...

To mint and silver-dazzled mist of dew-kissed fennel-frond

God draws delight’s attentions to beauties and mercies fine

Clouds heaped on deeps of boundless blue, a grape-embellished vine

A flower in its precious prime, a bud, bursting to tell

A bloom, bowed by the toll of Time’s unyielding carousel

A treetop, cobbled to the moon, a pot of garden stew

A bit of summer afternoon left after work is through

He spills Majesty’s showcases, in petals, paper-thin

He wills unfathomed graces to a world blighted by sin

Four-season feasts of grandeur, great and small, thrill and confound

Impressions of His splendor thunder, oft without a sound

As glory of the earth and sky declares the glory of

The Lord. Ah, here a butterfly, ah, there a cooing dove

Coruscant vim of brook-verve curves through wood and meadowland

God’s evidence, without reserve, anoints Want’s blind demand

And fills us with anticipation for impending praise;

Impromptu celebrations as we marvel at His ways

Mantled in morning amethyst, hailed from Welkin Beyond

To mint and silver-dazzled mist of dew-kissed fennel-frond

How holy is the lowly spud, how God’s providence awes

Incomprehensible, the Thought that ordain nature’s laws

And draws delights attentions to beauties and mercies fair

And kindles endless anthems to a God beyond compare

Whose outer fringes flourish in frames filled with ‘let there be’

Whose Inner Whispers nourish gladness and humility

Delight's attention spans the gap twixt worshipper and God

It joins the the trees that clap their hands, the hill-and-field pealed laud

Where spoken tokens of his Word yield what He has decreed

His proclamation, undeterred for He is Lord indeed

Who draws delight's attention to creation's chief employ

To lift our hearts and voices and to shout and sing for joy

© Janet Martin

a pot of garden-stew...

***

Yesterday the morning was turning swiftly sweltering...

when, what to my wondering eyes should appear

but my dear neighbor with a potato-digger!

My hallelujah-hymn, 

(kindled as the potato-fork

unearthed Yukon gold and Idaho red treasure

 in astonishing measure)

reached new and unexpected heights;

the kind of height that only (unexpected) kindness 

(esp. potato-digger kindness)

achieves!!

(my apologies for the WOW!!!

in my delight, I forgot I was recording😂💗)

Isaiah 55:12

You will indeed go out with joy and be led forth in peace;

the mountains and hills will burst into song before you,

and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.

Psalm 47:1

Clap your hands, all you peoples; shout unto God with a voice of triumph.

Psalm 65:12

The pastures of the wilderness overflow; the hills are robed with joy.

Psalm 65:13

The pastures are clothed with flocks, 

and the valleys are decked with grain. 

They shout in triumph; indeed, they sing.

Psalm 89:12

North and south You created; 

Tabor and Hermon shout for joy at Your name.

Psalm 93:3

The floodwaters have risen, O LORD; 

the rivers have raised their voice;

 the seas lift up their pounding waves.

Isaiah 44:23

Sing for joy, O heavens, for the LORD has done this; 

shout aloud, O depths of the earth.

 Break forth in song, O mountains, 

you forests and all your trees. 

For the LORD has redeemed Jacob, 

and revealed His glory in Israel.

Tangible Reminders (of Who God Is)

Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior,

who daily bears our burdens.

Psalm 68:19

Sometimes when we pass through seasons of (prayer)-discouragement,

God convicts and comforts us 

with tangible reminders of who He is; 

Faithful 

As surely as nature displays his faithfulness

in every season,

so too is His perfect timing in our lives!

These two poems by Edgar A. Guest remind us to take a breath

...and Behold!

The birthplace of today runs rife

(In spite of weight of care)

With much to make this little life

A lovely thing to bear

Beauty’s showcase is marvelous

Winter-spring-summer-fall

Makes it impossible to miss

The One who wills it all

The budded branch bursts into song

The tresses of its hymn

A shelter for the feathered throng

The nests in lofty limb

A masterpiece of petals spills

From frilly lily-loom

River-ribbons wind between hills

At night star-gardens bloom

…and as the afternoon unwinds

To twilight’s vestibules

The Artist of dusk’s murals finds

Constant originals

Beneath a canopy of sky

Oft aweing mortal gaze

We go; God sees the low and high

Of every trail we blaze

…and beckons us to trust the love

That moves His mighty Hand

In ways that grants grand glimpses of

Who none can understand

© Janet Martin

…and as the afternoon unwinds

To twilight’s vestibules

The Artist of dusk’s murals finds

Constant originals...

The budded branch bursts into song...

The tresses of its hymn

A shelter for the feathered throng

The nests in lofty limb...

1 John 5:14

This is the confidence we have in approaching God: 

that if we ask anything according to his will, 

he hears us.

Rad Glory

I began this poem at sunrise...

then the day took over...

Off to a local meat shop first thing,

to take advantage of their annual sausage sale...

stopping for a few photos along the way...

...then grandchildren came for a while to entertain gramma😂💖

What is it about a gate/fence/barrier that instantly draws curiosity

of all ages, even babies?!!

 

Grand daughter borrows gramma's sunglasses for a better look at the clouds...

It all started when she spotted the one on the first photo,

 a billowy, pillow-y one and wished she could jump in it

Now, after the last round of sausage is on to steam,

(Yes! I water-bath-can sausage!)

back to what began almost today-ago 😅

Where the heavens are flung

With profound clarity

A Voice of universal tongue

Declares God’s majesty

His awesome evidence

(That only fools deny)

Thunders with untold testaments

From earth and sea and sky

…to confound creature boast

To humble human hearts

As wonder wows Want’s uttermost

With what God’s hand imparts

Hark! Ere the dark of night

Dissolves, the morning rings

With feathered, unfettered delight

From choristers with wings

Both mighty and minute

Astonish and enthrall

Until only fools dare dispute

The One who authored all

Creation stuns the eye

And kindles joyful due

To join the throngs of earth and sky

With songs of worship too

Buds, primed with petaled proof

Pulse with glorious laud

While sorry fool still holds aloof

The rad glory of God

© Janet Martin

 (Using the word 'rad' today, in its most sacred sense!)

WORDS RELATED TO RAD -DICTIONARY.COM

astonishing, astounding, awesome, breathtaking,

 fantastic, incredible, marvelous, outrageous,

 phenomenal, remarkable, spectacular, superb,

 terrific, unbelievable, far out, groovy, neat, 

offbeat, unorthodox, wonderful

Psalm 14:1

The fool says in his heart, “There is no God.” 

They are corrupt, their deeds are vile; 

there is no one who does good.