With Heart wide Open

Too often I do not even notice

This gift you give to me

But trample coldly on it

And I don’t thank you properly

For this miracle of beauty

I ought always to embrace

As your mercy lays before me

Another day of grace

© Janet Martin

Prayer: God, help us to see the beauty of this gift,

Not only now in the calm stillness,

but as the wrapping falls away

as glorious sunrises turn gray

Revealing deeper shades

Of what is as yet, unknown,

When we struggle and stumble
Or feel misunderstood; alone

When we are weary and worn

Let us not abuse or hold this gift

With impatience or scorn

For this gift you lay before us

Is no free-fall from above

It is a miracle, born of compassion

And bestowed in perfect love

Thank-you God

Of Things Cursed

Temptation dangles like a serpent

In an idle, slothful mind

The fruit gleams, sweet upon the tree

As to its vice we're blind

We long to reach and pluck it

Taste its sugar-coated dread

But its afterglow would haunt us

Like vile ghosts inside our head

While the thing that seemed so lovely

Is a curs-ed, empty shell

And the fruit that promised heaven

But a tragic glimpse of hell

For the well of carnal thirsting

Is a void nothing can quench

As the harvest of our tasting

Bears the fruit of consequence

© Janet Martin

Today's Friday Thoughts

Things are merely things

They have no good or evil spirit

It’s what mankind does with them

That defines their worth and merit.

I remember asking my dad when I was a child if such-and-such a thing is bad and I never forgot his answer...He said, ‘things are not bad. Nothing in and of itself is bad or good; it’s what we do with them that makes ‘things’ what they are. ‘Things’ have the potential for both…it’s up to us to choose how to use them!’

We cannot blame ‘things’ for our weaknesses

Things obey the command of the hands they are in

Hands obey thought
and thought, oh thought…

How prone you are

To sin

What a mighty sword we wield

Held in our thought

Prayer is its protective shield

If used a lot

It seems I hear a constant voice

And I believe its name is Choice

God, I prayed for patience…I’m still waiting for your answer…

Jesus loves me this I know

I looked into a flower

And it told me so…

© Janet Martin

Of Summer

Our first day of summer was a moody one! It began, hot, heavy and sunny before thunderstorms moved through bringing a slight cool-down and a sunset master-piece. 

Soon the gold that warms the sod

Withdraws its sultry sheen

And world’s transformed by thoughts of God

Will lose their verdant green

Too soon the lark of summer-song

Will fly off to the south

And all these hours for which we long

Devoured in Time’s mouth

Of summer

Too soon the room of July mirth

And flowers fair and sweet

Will shed their bloom back to earth

A dead rose at our feet

The shifting wave that lilts and moans

And beckons from the shore

Will heave with moody undertones

Closing the wanton door

Of summer

Ah, life will always have its share

Of care and tares and trouble

So dance upon hope's buoyant air

Before dreams turn to stubble

And you should turn with sudden grief

To see upon the hill

A silhouette of crimson leaf

And echoing quadrille

Of summer

© Janet Martin

Make this summer’s first week-end memorable!

Get out there and drink it in

Time is a tumbling water-wheel

And too soon it is over again!

I kid the kids sometimes and tell them we have two seasons at our house…Winter and potlucks!

Does anyone have any fresh pot-luck ideas? I’m stumped and it’s just June! I need food for tomorrow and a ladies’ tea-party dessert for Sunday.

The Shape of a Memory

Don’t forget me, he said,

And he slipped away

As God laid a satin spread

Across the sky to close the day

Coral-pink and amber-gold,

The ocean in her eye

Is more than firm resolve can hold

While he whispers good-by

A thousand moments blend and blur

Then slip beyond life’s reach

She wonders, does he think of her

On thought’s elusive beach

Don’t forget me, his farewell plea

Whispers in her ear

She holds the shape of memory

Within her smile; her tear

© Janet Martin

This poem's inspiration is due in part to an awesome sunset tonight and watching Ann of Green Gables in the continuing story.

Thursday Thoughts on Grudges

Holding on to grudges

Elongates grief and bitterness

Letting them go shrinks old wounds

And heals, by time’s caress

Holding on to grudges

Hurts our children

As we deny them the example

Of forgiveness

Holding on to grudges

Is like clinging to a briar-tree

There is no relief from the pain

Holding on to grudges

Robs you of the freedom

To reach out to others

Holding on to grudges

Is energy and opportunity wasted

Holding on to grudges is like drinking poison.

You kill joy

Holding on to grudges

Never works to our good

For we cannot hold a grudge

And still love as we should

If you insist on holding a grudge

Be sure you know the deal

As bitterness can bleed the life from you

And only forgiveness can heal

Grudges are often amplified misunderstandings

Grudges are the fruit of miscommunication

Grudges grow if clung to and die if released

Life is short. Don’t waste it nurturing weeds

A grudge protected and preserved drops dark and evil seeds

Holding on to grudges
depletes us of strength to let go

Holding on to grudges strengthens
our weaknesses

Holding on to grudges
Drains us of
love
thanksgiving
hope
joy
patience
peace

Holding on to grudges
fills us
with everything
contrary to
Love

© Janet Martin

Immaculate Intercession

Sometimes it seems that I do not know how I ought to pray

The words are sealed within my thought; I don’t know what to say

But there is nothing hid from God; He knows our creature needs

He hears our deep unspoken thought and gently intercedes

My praise, my pleas, my tears, my fears, in deep emotions swell

Disappointment and dismay in desperate oceans well

Tonight there are no words to give this world of thought release

But suddenly I know He heard; I feel Him whisper ‘Peace’

© Janet Martin

Are We Ready?

Mary, your poem inspired these thoughts immediately as I pondered your words. There is no escaping physical death!

If God should knock upon the door of planet earth tonight

And hand each one of us a robe of lucent, deathly white

And if, before we had a moment to accept it or decline

Our feet were lifted from this sod to elements divine

Would we be ready?

If He should require from our breath but this; our living soul

As dust-wrought limbs succumb to death; and timeless Fathoms roll

If He should reach to take our hands within His nail-scarred own

And draw us from our trembling stance to meet Him at His throne

Would we be ready?

If we looked up to see upon the clouds, the Son of Man

If we lay down to wake in portals far beyond earth’s span

If tonight we heard a knock and opened our cottage door

To see Him standing there to lift us from this stricken shore

Would we be ready?

Time and life; two awesome gifts but each with numbered day

Grace and love; two awesome truths that never fade away

Jesus Christ: one awesome God forever with no end

You and I, one life, one death; will we be ready, friend?

Are we ready?

© Janet Martin