Authentic Treasure

 

And now we wake

Gladly partake

With no brief hesitation

The good of life

Even its strife

Is not without elation

If we have food enough to eat

And shoes to wear upon our feet

And strength enough with which to meet

Toil’s present expectation

But oh, the bloom

Of grief and gloom

Where laughter turns to crying

Dare we to think

We ought not drink

The gall of anguished sighing

Will we take good but not the rest?

And for ourselves heap up life’s best

While others flounder in its test

Alone, starving and dying?

This is the day

The Lord has made

Not for our passive pleasure

But that we might

His heart delight

By loving without measure

To cast our bread upon the sea

To serve in kind humility

To store in fathomless degree

Love’s everlasting treasure

© Janet Martin

 He replied, "You are talking like a foolish woman. Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?" In all this, Job did not sin in what he said. Job 2:10

Trusting Completely

Fully, wholly, utterly

Without one reservation

This is how you came to me

Oh, God of all creation

Completely You poured out Your love

The debt of sinners bearing

Lord, teach me then how I may trust

Completely without fearing

© Janet Martin

 Trust in the Lord with all your heart
    and lean not on your own understanding;

in all your ways submit to him,
    and he will make your paths straight.

Prov. 3:5-6

Why do we doubt the one who made

the earth and all therein

Why do we doubt the one who gave

His life-blood for our sin?

Why do we doubt the one who vowed

His grace is all-sufficient 

Why do we doubt Thee, Holy God

Jehovah, all-omniscient  

Teach me HOW to trust you, oh God

Teach us how to give in complete trust!

Almost Eighteen

It isn’t easy being almost-eighteen

When other pastures are fairer and greener

Than the row that you were given to hoe

It isn’t easy

Being almost-eighteen…

I know

It isn’t easy being almost-eighteen

So many unknowns remaining to be seen

So many doors all seemly barred

So many decisions

And all of them

Hard

It isn’t easy being almost-eighteen

Uncertain of how far or how fearless to dream

As fantasy and reality

Wage debate

Each hovering beyond

The garden gate

It isn’t easy being almost-eighteen

Realizing that life is not ‘but a dream’

And rowing your boat against life’s stiff tide

Is anything but

A ‘merrily, merrily’

Ride

But darling, I’m not sure if any of us really ‘knows’

One foot then the other, that’s the way life goes

No one can see

The next line, the next page

And life is a faith-leap

No matter our age

…and darling, it isn’t easy being forty-six

Swiftly, so swiftly life’s impatient clock ticks

I hold and I reach, I trust and I pray

I learn while I teach

and feel you slipping

away

It isn’t easy, so all we can do

Is ask God day by day to gently lead us through

Whether we are eighteen

Or forty-five

Time is a hungry foe that licks

Away our lives

© Janet Martin

Of Little Everythings

Of ruby lips and fingertips

Alight with eagerness

Of freckle-noses

Dandelion-roses

Contentment’s sweet caress

Of garden walks

Of balled-up socks

Of laundry-laden lines

Of teaching, reaching

Tenderness

From learning’s ageless vines

A wandering, pondering

Beautiful

Through living’s bitter-sweet

And knowing grace

Bestows its trace

In wild-blooms at our feet

Of forgiveness

And gentleness

Of simple-threaded bliss

Of realizing

Heaven’s glimpse

Is surely, purely this…

Ruby child-lips

And fingertips

Alight with eagerness

A mother’s/parent’s joy

Wee girl and boy

Contentment’s sweet caress

© Janet Martin

Matt (our son) asked me last night if I ever do anything. Then he laughed and re-iterated, ‘Well I know you baby-sit and you clean, but do you ever do anything else?! I grinned a little and winked; “h-m-m-m,” I said, “I think I cook once in a while.” He laughed, pondering my response for a moment before going up-stairs to bed.

p.s. Today they were all home and it is much cooler so we walked to the bush for a picnic...It reminded me of when they really were 'wee'...sigh:)

What our children see as ‘nothings’ is a parent’s ‘everything’.

A Homemaker's Prayer

Lord, teach me how to build my house

In tender, purpose prove

Compassion and humility

Shaping a home of love

Let my submission be fulfilled

As your wisdom ordains

That peace may brim from floor to roof

In pure, joyous refrains

May others needs preceed my own

May kindness never cease

Lord, mold these walls of brick and stone

Into Your masterpiece

Lord, let me serve in thankfulness
And gladness be my crown

Lest by sad, stubborn selfishness

I tear earth’s haven down

Lord, teach me how to build my house

Not of my own design

May it be heav’n’s foreshadowing

Through your blueprint divine

Lord, teach me how to build my house

A simple dwelling place

In wood and mortar skin on earth

Of heaven’s kind embrace

© Janet Martin 

 The wise woman builds her house, But the foolish tears it down with her own hands. Prov. 14:1

This is Prayer

These are not just fleeting notions

Or some passing thought we feel

These are groaned pleas of confession

Making His forgiveness real

These are tender humble whispers

For safe-keeping in His care

These are trembling exaltations

As we praise Him; this is prayer

It’s a constant, keen awareness

A servant-hood that we embrace

As we recognize His mercy

In the outpouring of grace

It’s a kind, faithful enabling

Through life’s disappointing strains

This is prayer; complete entrusting

As his Spirit fills, sustains

His grace provides in moment-measure

Over all, His love prevails

This is prayer, constant communion

With the One who never fails

© Janet Martin

My grace is sufficient for Thee. 2 Cor. 12:9

Living Moment to Moment...

                                                ~As drops fill a sea so moments fill a life~

Poetic Bloomings gives us permission to borrow someoneelse's line in Hey, That's my line'

*Taken from Walt J. Wojtanik's Living Day-to-Day synchronicity poem

*Within every waking moment,
the gift of life is heaven sent.*

So if we learn to cherish moments

We will learn to be content

We cannot see the trickle

Of Time’s elemental force

But we can feel its whispers tracing

Our temporal discourse

Within every waking moment*

Trembles possibility

Gift of life, oh fleeting morsel

Full of opportunity

We cannot preserve its tenure

Tick by tock its measure slips

As we touch and taste the treasure

Flowing from Time’s gracious lips

Within every waking moment,
the gift of life is heaven sent.*

Oh God, I vow to cherish it

The gift of life that you have lent

© Janet Martin

A Synchronicity Poem

 Poetic Bloomings invites us to attempt a synchronicity poem

"Synchronicity" defined is the state or fact of being synchronous or simultaneous; synchronism. Coincidence of events that seem to be meaningfully related.

This form consists of  eight three-line stanzas in a syllable pattern of 8/8/2. This poetry type has no rhyme and is usually written in the first person (variation removes that restriction) with a twist. The twist is to be revealed within the last two stanzas. Created by Debra Gundy.

If the Lord wills, the sun to rise

Dissolving the darkness in gold

Glory

If the Lord wills, rain to nurture

Earth’s fallow and field where farmers

Have toiled

If the Lord wills springtime its green

Summer’s gold and autumn’s crimson

Blessing

If the Lord wills shaded bowers

Barren land to burgeon with corn

And wheat

If the Lord wills strength for the day

Hope in each gifted intake of

Man’s breath

If He imbues us with talents

And the marvelous indwelling

Of love

If we acknowledge our vast

And our complete dependence

In Him

Dare we to claim one syllable

Of His praise, His honor or His

Glory?

© Janet Martin