In all of our differences
By culture and creed
We are much the same
Creatures in great need
Of Jesus
In all of our differences
There is but one Name
By which men are saved
We are much the same
© Janet Martin
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Monday, September 24, 2012
Heart or Head?
Some days my heart has old ragged edges
Some days its staunch and dull as cold stone
Still, on other days it’s a beckoning blossom
With fringes unfurling in love’s golden sun
Heart, you’re a restless and way-faring drifter
I cannot trust or rely on your lead
Heart, you’re a harbor for feelings and notions
Guess in the end I must follow my head
On some days my head will allow me one day-dream
But on most days it rules with a fist
Void of enchantment or humor or daring
Grim as a woman whose never been kissed
Head, you’re a fine one, with rigid denial
Stopping your ears at the songs of romance
Seems I must hail my heart for a moment
And beg it to teach my head to dance
Infinite Incomprehension
He made Himself
But clothed in flesh
Supreme I AM
In his image
Became a Lamb
Who can explain
Such humble mercy?
Love unrestrained
Beneath hatred’s blow
Who can explain
Compassion so perfect
As agony wept
Sweet incomprehension
I cannot grasp it
A King leaves His throne
To die on a cross
So we, wretched men
Like stars in the heavens
May pierce hatred’s darkness
As He shines through us
How I abhor
My rebellious nature
As I consider
God; putting on
Man’s filthy stature
Majesty serving
The hand with a sword
Immaculate Offering
Seals our redemption
Atonement of sin
To tell of His grace
May I never grow weary
To tell of His love
Where can I begin?
For He made Himself
Of no reputation
Clothing in flesh
Supreme I AM
Nothing desirable
In His image
Love Immortal
Became a Lamb
© Janet Martin
Marriage: It Doesn't Just Happen
To all us married folk I say 'cheers,
May love be so blissfully happy
we forget to count the years'
Does this cute cartoon not say it all?...now on a more serious note:
It doesn’t just happen
Love’s bearing; its bending
Is an earnest diligence
Of careful tending
It doesn’t just happen
Love’s time-tender glow
Is not something earned lightly
In life’s ebb and flow
It doesn’t just happen
Love’s sure testament
Is a shining example
Of commitment
It doesn’t just happen
By negligent living
Love is an action
Of giving, forgiving
It doesn’t just happen
Love’s tried and true grace
Is a gentle reflection
Of God’s face
It doesn’t just happen
But oh, its sweet worth
Is surely the most priceless
Beauty on earth
© Janet Martin
From my threshold of middle-age marriage I have a sudden
fresher and deeper appreciation for these words;
Happy 49th Anniversary, Mom and Dad
Tomorrow is Mom and Dad’s 49th Wedding
Anniversary. I am so thankful for their shining example of faithfulness.
May God richly bless you with many more.
The Knowns in our Unknowns
Upon what was or lies ahead
The hours between; life’s stepping-stones
In our journey of unknowns
Against the tides of ill refrain
In our journey of unknowns
In our journey of unknowns
The path of hope is narrow, straight
Leading to Triumph’s gleaming Gate
His arms of mercy, bastions; strong
In our journey of unknowns
Step by faltering step we come
In our journey to His Known
Simply Moments
Every stunning failure
And each triumphant gasp
Every trembling utterance
In every love we clasp
Every breath of courage
And every tender tear
The cistern filled with laughter
Or the belly filled with fear
The sorrow in our parting
The pleasure in hello
The obligations of sound reason
The reckless joy of letting go
The wine after the harvest
And the toiling and the strife
These are simply moments
But in time they form
A life
© Janet Martin
Sunday, September 23, 2012
On This Evening's Eve
On this evening’s eve
The aural scrim descends
In sable folds; it weaves
The moments, gold
To dim, then deeper blends
Purple sweeping shadows
Like painted turrets sprawl
Across the land; the meadow
A stadium where
We watch night’s curtain fall
It tugs in motionless motion
The beauty and brutality
Of this day’s lot; an ocean
Of pure grandeur
Seals its jot in history
Alpha and Omega draws
The shade; it is dark
And day is done
But only day; His love and grace
Go on
And on
And on
And on…
© Janet Martin
I took my daughter and her friend out to a field a few miles from here to watch the sun set. Victoria said that she is going to name that field Sunset Stadium. I LOVE it!:) And all that great open sky, and all that wild wonder and all that awesome creation is a mere 'whisper of Him' ...a mere speck of His glory and grace! Hallelujah.
The girls wanted the 'best seat in the House'...
The Person I Used to Be
I am not the shape of my body
Or the color of my skin
These are merely landmarks
Of the person I am
Within
Once upon a distant time
I was a girl of many dreams
But somewhere in life’s forward march
They got lost,
It seems
Too many passions folded
Then surrendered to Time’s greed
The future does not give us
What we want, but what we
Need
Sometimes, in perfect moments
As the evening slips away
In gold-vermilion vesture; I become
For blissful half-breaths the girl of
Yesterday
Don’t misunderstand; I’m not ungrateful
But being a woman is bitter-sweet
Girlish freedom is a pasture
Beneath lost day-dreams and
Bare feet
I’ve traded luring day-dreams
For a better mystery
Of motherhood and the adrenaline rush
Of what is yet
To be
© Janet Martin
'Between the girl I once was
And the woman I’ve become
Lie too many
Years'
Doris Day in Don’t Eat the Daisies
Our Writer's Group challenge; Where is the person I used to be?
Stuttered Praise
The heavens declare the glory of God;
the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech;
night after night they reveal knowledge
They have no speech, they use no words;
no sound is heard from them.
Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,
their words to the ends of the world. Psalms 19:1-4
You receive our humble, heartfelt stammers
In our fumbles you fill in the blanks
Your Holiness embracing murmured thanks
Rising o’er the din of carnal clamors
You whisper to us from the gleaming Gate
As daylight folds beneath heaven’s command
Your glory tints the molten, mystic strand
Spanning the void twixt ‘welcome home’ and ‘wait’
Hatred and fear’s projections cannot mar
The portal where the feet of angels tread
The aftermath of daylight rests its head
Upon the Hand that lights the evening star
We stand upon earth’s shore; as stuttered prayer
Scales the unfathomed reaches of the air
© Janet Martin
The sunset tonight left me speechless with awe…
Any attempts at word; mere stammering ineptness.
All I could whisper was, “Oh God, thank-you, thank-you,
thank-you”
The sunset was a sort of an almost circle north-west-south and partial east!..I had NEVER seen anything quite like it!
Lord Most High
Lord Most High
Saturday, September 22, 2012
We Call it...War
They go away
These dear dads
Leaving behind
Little girls with golden curls
And blue-eyed freckled lads
To fight
Other dear dads
Who leave behind
Little girls with golden curls
And blue-eyed freckled lads
We call it war
© Janet Martin
Tonight we (myself, Matt,
Victoria and her friend) watched
the movie
The Littlest Rebel (Shirley Temple)
‘But how does that help?’ they ask me as they watch soldiers
plunder and kill.
‘Mom, how does killing people make things better?
Mom, how can being so mean bring peace?
Mom, why do we have war?
Mom, is war sin?
In the Arms of a Poem
(one of my favorite quotes)
From all over God’s earth
from sundry trails
we come; to languish in
the vexing delight
held in the arms of
a poem
nothing quite compares, it seems
no other form of art
can evoke or charm
the seeker who dreams
best in the arms of
a poem
its lure, its lull
its push and pull
are like coming home
to a flickering fireside
in the patient arms of
a poem
© Janet Martin
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