Take a Minute to Marvel...

Every good and perfect gift is from above,
coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights,
who does not change like shifting shadows. 

James 1:17

Take a minute

Then look in it

Count God’s gifts to

You and I

Look how laughter

Sweetens after

Sorrow spills then

Passes by

Touch the places

That love graces

With meek, holy

Reverence

Soon the motion

Of Time’s ocean

Tunes a tide of

Severance

It is never

Always winter

Sea of seasons

Ebbs and flows

Trouble-bubble

Harvest, stubble

Winter harbours

Summer's rose

See, love's hours

Bloom like flowers

In the gardens

Of our hearts

Take a minute

And look in it

At the beauty

It imparts

Not for nothing

Is the Something

That we suffer,

Savour, oh,

We can weather

Any weather

Through the grace where-

By we go

Want is surprised…

Time is baptized

With mercies

That leaves thought awed

Take a minute

And look in it

At the tender

Touch of God

Over, under

Ages thunder 

With God's love

Misunderstood

Calm or chaos

God is with us

Always faithful

Kind and good

 

© Janet Martin

It's True...I Love Plumped Pillows, Comfy Couches and Fuzzy Slippers

 In their hearts humans plan their course, but the LORD establishes their steps.

 Prov.16:9

Sometimes I am not ready yet

To say some words out loud

I fear my faith is small at best

My nature stubborn, proud

But one thing I will dare to speak

And none can prove it wrong

Is how, (deep breath) when I am weak

Then God in me is strong

I do not want discipline’s rod

All children need, and yet

“Be still and know that I am God”

How often I forget

And forge headstrong through plan and prep

Like foolish children do

Ignoring He who cups the step

That He alone sees through

…then like a tender Father He

Though it may feel unkind

Administers Necessity

With end result in mind

He does not plump pillows or kiss

My foolish vanity

But strips away what hinders this;

His Love shining through me

© Janet Martin

To Today's Response Team...

“We cannot choose our external circumstances, but we can always choose how we respond to them”

 ― Epictetus

Nobody seemed to mind that it was no one's birthday...

there was a candle they each had a turn to blow out,

there was singing and there was leftover cake with blue icing!

  

Touch it

Tease it

Taste it

Squeeze it

Shake it

Break it

Walk,

Leap,

Sit

Stumble-

Tumble

But

Don’t grumble

Life is what

We make of it

© Janet Martin

Moment-montage

 I have no idea why but listening to this...

 inspired this...

If moments had sound

would they splash the ground like rain

or dash like pelting sleet

Would they run in rivulets

down the lane

to pool in poems at our feet

Or would they land

like sugared sand

on outstretched hands and tongues

Where we would twirl

And twirl

like yester’s girl,

forever and ever 

young

If moments made noise

would they be

like a blushing school boy’s 

 bravado

Or would they dance

In footloose romance

like Bach’s 

violin concertos

Or maybe they would surge,

in salt-spray splurge

of rhinestones 

...a gold and silver shiver

tossed against a

backdrop of twilight’s

purple 

and turquoise river

If we could hear a moment

would it fox-trot

or tango

… or pop like a 

rainbowed soap bubble

Would it melt

 like a flake of snow

or, fade like the afterglow

of trouble

if we heard a moment

ah,  would it

 tiptoe out of bed

all sleepy-headed 

looking for

a bit

of buttered bread…

© Janet Martin

Premeditated Praise

 A rare not pre-planned day so I went on a few-hour trek...

The good part of living where all the neighbors are friend/family

is the free reign to any 'back-forty' one wishes to wander;-)

...and ponder the somber shades of life as well as the glory-glints!

The Creator tints every single slope... with Hope. 

Hallelujah, even when the scene is blurred with tears stars!

Oh, isn’t He just Someone to behold

He washes out the dark with seas of gold

The leafless tree is decked in diamond dust

And yet…somehow we are averse to trust

Oh, isn’t He just Someone to adore

His majesty no mortal can ignore

He gathers up the ashes of spent fire

And scatters it ‘neath dashes of desire

Where footloose, fancy-free soon snares its feet

On vines bent with Time’s treasure, bittersweet

For oft the rush of who-what-when-why-how

Makes us forget His gift of here and now

Oh, isn’t He just Someone to applaud

No one and nothing can compare to God

For who of us the art of earth begets

Or boasts because the sun rises and sets

Oh isn’t He just Someone to entrust

With life’s soul-suffused follicle of dust?

Where in and out of season His design

Births bud that bears the fruit that bends the vine

© Janet Martin