Showing posts with label soul. Show all posts
Showing posts with label soul. Show all posts

Friday, January 5, 2024

Today Twofer ...Cradle of Eternity and Today's Most Estimable Gift

Yesterday we celebrated the child that turned Jim and I into grandparents!

Happy 7th Birthday, Grandson!


Simply being there may look like nothing much
(dear weary, young mother/parent),
 but, is in essence, everything!

Oh, the efforts that may seem to count for nothing here
 but may count for everything There!πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™
By God's grace, keep on.

Above, we simply see a birthday cake!!
 not the baking of it by Very Sleep-deprived mom 
after children are tucked into bed,
We don't see the many, messy, mundane, oops, 
I mean SACRED interruptions/frustrations
 to bring it to fulfillment!πŸ˜…πŸ’“




Technology/screen-time has many negatives in the development of children BUT
this is one of the best positives; being able to laugh and chat with cousins 
over 2000 kilometers away!!




“Children are not a distraction from more important work.
 They are the most important work.”
– Dr. John Trainer
(according to this site, the above quote is misattributed to C.S. Lewis)

Children are by far the most important work!
because...

Beneath the wide, missing-toothed grin
That six and seven year old sports
Beneath Innocent Countenance 
That Time's Insistence soon aborts
 Beneath the sweet Cocoon of Youth
Trembles an Immutable Flame
As irrefutable as Truth
Unthwarted by denial's claim

This truth kindles a deeper look
At faces that we love so dear
At babies nestled in arm's crook
At hugs, as we draw loved ones near
Because, beneath the part we see
Exists the Thing That Never Dies
The Cradle of Eternity
Has missing teeth and eager eyes 

...a-sparkle with dream-giddy stars
Where footsteps that dash wild and free
Are bearing a most sacred charge
The Cradle of Eternity
Because, the part that melts the heart
With the velocity/Curiosity of Youth 
Cradles the soul, that precious Part
That looks to us to teach/tell the Truth 

© Janet Martin

Eccles.12:1
Remember your Creator in the days of your youth,
 before the days of trouble come 
and the years approach when you will say, “I find no pleasure in them"—


I began the poem below yesterday...
Inspired in part by this passage
 (which also helped inspire the above poem) 

For He established a testimony in Jacob,
And appointed a law in Israel,
Which He commanded our fathers,
That they should make them known to their children;
 That the generation to come might know them,
The children who would be born,
That they may arise and declare them to their children,
That they may set their hope in God,
And not forget the works of God,
But keep His commandments;...

from this devotion...

from this book...


Before the poem was completed Eagerness arrived to steal the show with sweetness!

when Little Brother noticed Big Sister about to be the 'star',
he, ever-so-full-of -'innocent'-mischief did his thingπŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‡

Can't you just about hear his very enthusiastic 'CHE-E-E-ESE!!'πŸ’–πŸ˜…

We still managed one without his shenanigans 
(that keep everyone laughing and pulling their hair out!πŸ˜‚πŸ˜…)


After they left, Gramma needed a nap before
heading out to above birthday celebration!


Today's most estimable part is valuable to know
Though its most vital works of art may never steal the show
It ought to stoke a lion’s roar in hearts of you and me
Because today swings wide the Door of Opportunity

Where what we do with what we have holds more than first appears
The impact of Now’s aftermath fills more than yesteryears
As repercussion of reply unravels in its wake
A footpath forged by you and I, for future feet to take

Today’s most estimable part is sacred to the touch
Though, at first glance its works of art may not appear as much
Beneath the part we see the root establishes the tree
That will, for good or ill, bear fruit for all eternity

Sometimes eternity can feel far off, and quite unreal
Sometimes Impulse can spar and scoff at God’s/time’s/love’s patient appeal
Sometimes, today’s most estimable gift, we hardly see
As God fills up the cup we lift with Opportunity

© Janet Martin

Let's not lose heart by dwelling on
 opportunities lost or missed
but seize the part we build upon;
Now
goodness-glossed and mercy-kissed

Wednesday, April 19, 2023

No Mean Miracle This...


A preacher once challenged his listeners with this thought;
If God granted us one glimpse of heaven
or one glimpse of hell...hell would be empty;
Heaven so awesome, hell so awful!
This mortal body instilled with immortal soul is no mean miracle
It is the awesome opportunity to believe in the One who made it possible
through his death and resurrection, to spend eternity
in a perfection we cannot begin to fathom...
1 Cor.2:9
But as it is written: “Eye has not seen, nor ear heard,
Nor have entered into the heart of man
The things which God has prepared for those who love Him.”
Do you love Him?
Have you believed in Him and
received his gift?
Eph.2:8-9
For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—
and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—
 not by works, so that no one can boast.

Therefore, because every one of us is an Immortal Soul clad with a temporary cloak
let's treat each other with utmost awareness of what we all bear
in common... this, then eternity!





No mean miracle this; Soul stoked/cloaked with breath of life
No game of chance, no traitor’s kiss of death to insult strife
No futile farse is faith, no hoax, hope’s holy stairs
No pompous or pious charade, worship’s parade of prayers

Time tunes a transient toll; the body like a barge
That bears the cargo of the soul; a very sacred charge
Through life, a precious gift we unwrap day by day
Until the final, fleeting weft/breath of wrapping falls away

God’s love is without lack; His armor has no chink
His goodness groans on our behalf beyond what thought can think
His ways transcend the scope of logic’s keenest ken
His promises anchor the hope of all who trust. Amen.

No mean miracle this; body with soul instilled
For God, so rich in mercy is the law of love fulfilled
He beckons all to come; to repent and believe
This is no mean ultimatum He suffered to achieve

…His pardon for our sin; a debt we could not pay
Ah, heed the Voice that pleads within! Believe in Him today
Lest what is mean at last is our rebel pride
Who knew the miracle, but cast its saving grace aside

© Janet Martin

Thursday, July 1, 2021

Star-Trek


The pulpit from which the sermons through
my childhood were preached is tattooed with echoes of this verse (among others)
2 Pet.1:10
Wherefore the rather, brethren, 
give diligence to make your calling and election sure:
as Ira Brubacher's passionate cautions reverberated through the building
(and which I thought, back then, were quite repetitive)
but now begin to understand his pleading 
often accentuated with a somber, softened 'ye-e-e-s! y-e-e-e-s!
Because no one can afford not to make their calling and election sure!
No one can afford eternity 
without hope, without light, without goodness, without God



Our journey through the stars to God
Is traveled on earth’s blip of sod
A myriad of highs and lows
Until the sacred curtain close
When beyond the shortfall of sight
The mystery of Soul takes flight
Whether a feather or a bird
The flight of Soul is undeterred
Untethered in that final breath
To the un-brevity of death
Whether we believe or deny
The Soul will prove God does not lie
Where time is but the toll we trod
On soul-journeys through stars to God

© Janet Martin

Tuesday, March 16, 2021

Still...

you never know what you're gonna get.
~ Forrest Gump

 

Sometimes that's how I feel about poetry before it is bitten/written!
SO much to taste; as fingers move you just never know what the end result will be!




Above photo from the book Through Irish Eyes



Do you ever look at history books and wonder at the photos, 
the fashions, the 'normal' of the time?!
Do you ever read a book from ages past,
and marvel at how much has changed
only to read the story of the people in the pictures
to realize that beneath faΓ§ade 
humanity is as much the same as ever?!
People with souls pressing toward hope-and-dream goals
with many a bump along the way...


This poem took off in a totally different direction than I was expecting
when I first felt 'the niggle'...
That's the joy of poetry; you never know what you're gonna get!πŸ˜„


Time does not change the way it pours four seasons round and round
It does not hasten or meander, ever tick-tock bound
Sunrise, sunset, now dry, now wet, now plant, now harvest, oh
Where it seems little stays the same as ages come and go

…but some things stay; life’s ilk of silk and steel still much the same
As on the day when Adam pointed at his wife with blame
The sweetness of indulgence of forbidden fruit is brief
Consequence still lasts so much longer borne with bitter grief

Yes, little stays the same but oh, the heart left to its rule
Is still desp’rately wicked as it caters to the fool
Pride still precedes destruction, arrogance authors the fall
And humble pie is still a most unpleasant victual

The youth that we try to preserve will still always fall prey
To Father Time who does not swerve or waver in his way
When man still loves a woman and a woman loves a man
Till death doth part, we still glimpse the heart of the Master's Plan

Innocence of a child is still the purest joy on earth
Mirth finds its dearest laughter and life finds its sweetest worth
Where man, still born to trouble will soon discover its rod
Push-pull, heave-ho, uphill we go, still by the grace of God

We still reap what we sow; God is not mocked, though some will dare
To think they can, spurning the love that didst their pardon bear
Man’s understanding still grapples with Lord God’s Sovereignty
The rebel still plucks ‘apples’ from the still forbidden tree

God's gift of grace is still free if we repent and believe
The sinner on one's own cannot redemption’s work achieve
We still all have only one life, death’s sickle sweeps the earth
And one by one we will return to He who authors birth

Time and humanity, while progress changes the façade
Are beneath the authority of Everlasting God
And while so little stays the same, some things will never change
Because of the Undying Soul no mortal can estrange

© Janet Martin

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.
Heb.13:8

Be still and know that I am God
Psalm 46:10

Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him;
 do not fret when people succeed in their ways, 
when they carry out their wicked schemes
Psalm 37:7






Thursday, January 28, 2021

How Very Dust We Are, or Circumstantial Happiness



One of my favorite poets is Edgar A. Guest
Rich writing in a layman's terms because what doth it profit 
anyone if a poem is only understood by the poet?

Sharing a few gems for your benefit!





What if love gets so fixated on fringes and forgets 
What matters most where life is full of boast-euphoric bets 
What if the only thing I have when this day-fling is done 
Are accolades that perish with the setting of time’s sun 

What if I get so focused on the fray that I ignore 
The approach of The Judgment Day and Who we are here for 
Too taken up with ‘treasures’ that are volatile at best 
Admitting in an awful end, that I have failed the test 

What if I take goodness for granted without thankful praise 
And never root out the rebel in human-natured ways 
What if trouble would never double its substantial rod 
And I would never truly humble myself before God 

What if, this tenement of hopes and dreams housed nothing more 
Than dust-to-dust sequestered schemes of selfish, greedy gore 
Because I didn’t bother to acquaint myself with He 
Who, when this life is over unveils Immortality 

What if the ‘Glad tidings of great joy’ that the angels brought 
Would never touch the heart; the part that transforms idle thought 
What if I miss the only thing worth anything, That Day 
Because I was too focused on all that will pass away 

What if nothing reminded us How Very Dust We Are
How Circumstantial Happiness is like a shiny car
That soon loses its luster, in a heap of rusted sham
The gates of hell are decorated with dust-glitz and glam 

Pray that I fix my eyes upon a Prize I cannot see
Where nothing in this world can take the place of Calvary
...and the price of salvation wrought to pay sin's deadly toll 
What profit to gain the whole world only to lose The Soul

© Janet Martin

 For what profit is it to a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul? 
Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul?
Matt.16:26

Friday, January 15, 2021

What If, After All The Laughter...

No laughing matter if...

What if, after all the laughter...


all the flowers that we held...


What if after all the laughter, 
All the flowers that we held 
We have nothing left that matters 
When our fleeting frame is felled 

What if, after so much pardoned 
After precious mem’ries made 
We depart with heart still hardened 
Never trusted, never prayed 

What if, after we have tasted 
Mercy-upon-mercy poured 
We have ultimately wasted 
The Gift that we just ignored 
(The Gift offered by the Lord)

What if we are not forgiven 
What if we never receive 
The inheritance of Heaven 
Because we did not believe 

What if, after all the laughter
And tears, as time took its toll
We did not yield to the Author
Of Salvation for the soul

© Janet Martin 

Every so often I listen to this powerful song...

Almost Persuaded- Josh Turner


....and often I weep for cold shoulders turned away
from The Gift

Eph.2:8
For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith--
and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God--

Mark 16:16
He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved; 
but he that believeth not shall be damned.

1 John 1:9
If we confess our sins, 
he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins 
and purify us from all unrighteousness.

John 3:16
for God so loved the world
that He gave His only begotten son
that whosoever believes in Him
will not perish but have everlasting life

Why does it matter so much if our name is not written
in the Book of Life??

Rev.20:11-15
Then I saw a great white throne and him who was seated on it. 
The earth and the heavens fled from his presence, and there was no place for them. 
12And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. Another book was opened, which is the book of life. 
The dead were judged according to what they had done as recorded in the books.
 13The sea gave up the dead that were in it, 
and death and Hades gave up the dead that were in them, 
and each person was judged according to what they had done. 
14Then death and Hades were thrown into the lake of fire. 
The lake of fire is the second death. 
15Anyone whose name was not found written in the book of life 
was thrown into the lake of fire.




Saturday, December 5, 2020

Quite a Day-and-Night Indictment

Sometimes dawn is a gray slate,


..and sometimes a scroll of molten pink and gold!


...but always the same God bestows!

Darkness recedes as daylight seeps from deeps unscathed by eyes 
The seamless sweep of moments metes new day’s virginal prize 
Time’s treasure trove of push and shove and Love’s stumble-pocked chase 
Is overflowing with the glowing Evidence of grace 

The darksome lid of Said-and-Did lowered and sealed its cask 
Where what seems hidden is soon bidden to some fellow’s flask 
There is a spigot in the frigate filled with gated shores 
And from the drum of Said-and-done its gravid gumption pours 

This breath of life is like a knife where strife and hunger test 
Its death-doomed roar with birth once more in tours form east to west 
Where Hope, abreast dawn’s maiden quest that soon begets farewell 
Will help us cope while moments slope toward Heaven or hell 

This daily grace none can retrace, laced with most Sacred Fact 
Is like a barge laden with Charge, life-at-large keeps intact 
Darkness recedes while Someone heeds the needs none can outfox 
Soul, hidden in a skiff of rag-thin skin, sutured by clocks 

Tick-tock, tick-tock, stitching and unravelling synchronized 
The boon of morning, noon and night, a schooner, Mercy-prized 
Its journey to, nay, through the grave, may seem sustained on sod 
But it is quite a day-and-night-indicted trek to God 

© Janet Martin 

Sometimes I like to take rhyming challenges to the limits...
It isn't perfect, but was still a thrill to try.

 The words of the Preacher, the son of David, king in Jerusalem.

“Vanity[a] of vanities,” says the Preacher;
“Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.
What profit has a man from all his labor
In which he [b]toils under the sun?4 
One generation passes away, and another generation comes;
But the earth abides forever.5 
The sun also rises, and the sun goes down,
And [c]hastens to the place where it arose.6 
The wind goes toward the south,
And turns around to the north;
The wind whirls about continually,
And comes again on its circuit.7 
All the rivers run into the sea,
Yet the sea is not full;
To the place from which the rivers come,
There they return again.8 
All things are [d]full of labor;
Man cannot express it.
The eye is not satisfied with seeing,
Nor the ear filled with hearing
That which has been is what will be,
That which is done is what will be done,
And there is nothing new under the sun.


Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter:
Fear God and keep His commandments,
For this is man’s all.
14 
For God will bring every work into judgment,
Including every secret thing,
Whether good or evil.



Saturday, October 24, 2020

Soul/Sole Security


Seems fall-lovers here in Ontario
continue to be thrilled to the max by 
an exceptionally colorful version of the season
in what has been an exceptionally trying year!
The picture below is from a photo-poem desk calendar 
I received out of the blue (no birthday or anything) the other year
from my sister; I keep re-enjoying it because there's always pages I've missed or forgotten!
(I think that's why each season never loses its splendor; the missing and forgetting😊)



No matter what season we are in
may it always be a season of prayer,
Because Time is a turbulent tide!
Sickness of body and soul 
and so much beyond our control
insist we choose either faith or fear
to be compass and guide...

Fear flings us into foaming deeps
without a hope or prayer
is the firm anchor that keeps
us from drowning in despair


We surf a sea of season-tides 
What hides in its momentous deep 
Could keep us from hope’s sheer delight 
And rob us of laughter and sleep 

We bobble between faith and fear 
Because there is no clear-cut course 
Carved through the waves that vault and veer 
And dash us with violent force 

No one can claim clear-sailing grants 
Or tame the turbulence of Test 
Where surf and turf of circumstance 
Is always volatile at best 

Nobody knows what lies ahead 
How then can we find joy and peace 
Fear fills our hearts with doubt and dread 
Where dark the doleful clouds increase 

Faith finds the anchor that abides 
In He who hears each humble prayer 
And cups the sea of season-tides 
And all its ‘surfers’ in His care 

Then since, beyond our control
The toll of time rolls like the sea
Surely the faith that makes us whole
Is our sole/soul security

 
© Janet Martin 

Matthew 8:26
"You of little faith," Jesus replied, "why are you so afraid?" 
Then He got up and rebuked the winds and the sea, 
and it was perfectly calm.

There are SO many seasons in life not marked by a calendar!
For whatever season we are in here's hoping
we have a Friend to weather whatever the weather be...






Monday, June 15, 2020

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

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