Sacred Mantle...

We all know someone touched by death's solemn sadness, their lives forever altered...

It wraps a sort of sacred mantle about the heart for what we dare not take for granted; each other!

I visited with such a mother yesterday, and we talked of other families who are mourning as well.

Sacred mantle ’round the heart

Who can tell the morrow

Who can know that solemn start

To love’s anguished sorrow?

Who can know, amidst the rush

Of love’s common giving

Who will be the next of us

To pass beyond the living?

Sacred mantle ‘round the heart

Keens a kinder gladness

For each face and place and part

Not yet rent with sadness

© Janet Martin

Comforter

When sorrow’s tear meets Mercy’s ear

What tender touch God’s love bestows

The mourner feels the Hand that heals

Oft soft upon grief’s anguished throes

For we are not alone, forgot

Though death may wield a bitter sting

Our Lord will bless grief’s loneliness

With comfort only He can bring

© Janet Martin


My friend who lost her mother at the end of June,
misses her deeply.(so I sent this little verse to her yesterday)
She was a stay-at-home-daughter who tended to the needs of her mother
(bed-ridden for years!!)  when the others were at work
so now the hole in her life is huge.
Will you pray that she can feel God's comfort near and dear?

Blessed are those who mourn for they will be comforted
Matt.5:4

Hope For Heaven Renewed

 

Hurting and praying for the Schuurmans... 

Oh God! this plow that pushes through time’s joy and sorrow sweeps

Was not designed for those who pine for that which Bygone keeps

Time’s horror, hurt and hunger renews Heaven’s hope each morn

As from this place of grief and grace a precious face is borne

And nothing we can do or say will return that which was

So, if we hear Salvation’s plea, pray we reply because

Who knows the ending of what begins as another day?

And who knows who, before come twilight, will be called away?

Oh wow! the plow we push forward leaves furrows full of Past

Death reminds us to live each day as if it was our last

…and we should always, only, ever use the time God grants

To make the best of life and love while we still have the chance

© Janet Martin

Holes Beyond Mending...

PAD Challenge day 8: For today’s prompt, write a family poem.
The first thing that comes to our thoughts this morning with the word 'family'
is all the families in mourning over loss of loved ones.
A nation mourns with them

 

We mourn

Hearts torn

By kindred grief

For those who weep but cannot find

For comfort, hope

For tears, relief

For agony,

Sweet peace of mind

We look

And love

With meeker heart

When comes The Parting; who can tell?

When fabric of

Life’s live-

laugh-love

Leaves a big hole nothing can fill

We pray

The grace

And love of God

To bind the wounds too deep for word

As voice

Form, touch

Of one beloved

Will nevermore be felt, seen, heard

We think;

Ah death,

You stir each breath

With awareness of What Comes Next

The thread

Betwixt

What Then and This

May sever when we least expect

© Janet Martin

Ps.147:3

 He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

 Psalm 145:18
The LORD is near to all who call upon Him, To all who call upon Him in truth.

Ps.34:18
The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

Tower of Courage

There really are no words to fully capture the hurt of a sorrowing mother
aching for a child that is no more...

Other mothers hug her close

then return home to hug their beloved family closer... longer.

Loss...the flip-side of having held!

She bows where death has redefined

Love-sorrow-strength soft intertwined

And in her eyes the tender hurt

For one which lies beneath the dirt

Where none but God tallies her tears

That kiss the sod of yester-years

…she bows beneath yet holds the hand

Of He who helps her feet to stand

Where nothing can restore the dreams

That death has claimed too soon it seems

As through a power, not her own

She finds the courage to press on

© Janet Martin

(The word she in this poem can be changed to 'he')
this is not intended to undermine a father's sorrow
but, because I'm a mom I see through the eyes of a mother.