Something to Think About

 

 To Jesus, none of us are 'just a face in the crowd'...

Generations cross the sands of Time

Throngs surge toward a Shore

Over and over and over again

From here to forevermore

But one thing is certain without a doubt

That never again will be

You are the only you, my friend

And I am the only me

No one is born by accident

And in the Creators eyes

We all are equal, no rich or poor

Approaches heaven’s paradise

So we ought to do our very best

To serve Him carefully

For you are the only you, my friend

And I am the only me

When we leave this brief shadow-land behind

And every work we have wrought

When that Book of Life is opened, my friend

As name after name is sought

Over and over and over again
Name after name He will see

But you’ll be the only you, my friend

And I’ll be the only me

© Janet Martin

"You, then, why do you judge your brother? Or why do you look down on your brother? For we will all stand before God's judgment seat. It is written: 'As surely as I live,' says the Lord, 'every knee will bow before me; every tongue will confess to God.' "So then, each of us will give an account of himself to God (Romans 14:10-12)

Thoughts and prayers for those suffering in Syria, Egypt and the whole wide world over! 

Then It's September

When shadows climb hills at seven o’clock

And the air dons a chill as the daylight grows dim

Where leaves in precision are etched on the blue

Before darkness slips over each out-stretched limb

When green fields turn gold and the gold field turns brown

And all are the stage to cricket-canticle

Then it’s September; summer’s fading gown

Before nature’s ravishing fall-madrigal

When we are torn between laughter and tears

Kissing our babies and letting them go

As school bells ring; and summer disappears

Into the heart’s tender-sweet afterglow

Echo of sea-song and silver tide sweeps

Over the hours of what once had been

Then it’s September; the walnut tree weeps

Gold-bronze medallions on yesterday’s green

When we glean fruit from spring’s labor of faith

Marveling at earth’s bounteous yield

When we bow before the ruler of earth

Thanking the One who fills garden and field

When we smile back as the sun-flowers grin

From kitchen window-sills, tables and such

Then it’s September; humbly we begin

To bear the sweet sorrow of summer’s cooling touch

© Janet Martin

 I picked these yesterday, put them on my kitchen window-sills. Finally tonight at supper I asked, Well, isn't anyone going to say something?' 

They all stared blankly so I pointed at the flowers; 'you know, something like, nice flowers, or, 'that's a lot of flowers, mom' 

   Matthew looked at them and back at me, "wow, I didn't even notice them until now!"

Happy September, everyone!

One Foot in Heaven

  

  

One Foot in Heaven will forever be an all-time favorite movie of mine.

You paint, for our wonderment, Your glory on the air
Yet, as we drop our gaze we see earth's garden's blooming there
You love us; and through Mercy's sacrifice we are forgiven
Ah, surely God, we walk life's highway with one foot in Heaven

Through every season of earth's sod, Your power You imbue
Yet, fools deny you still oh God, in spite of all You do
But all who come to You and ask are full-freely forgiven
Methinks because of this we labor with one foot in Heaven

You fill our lives with purpose and You gift us to employ
Our talents and abilities to honor You with joy
You do not hold against us our shame; we are forgiven
And By Your grace, oh God we journey with one foot in Heaven.

Janet~

The other evening I turned slowly and saw His wonderment everywhere!
and I recalled how someone commented as they stood on a mountain that at least these 'poor people' they were visiting on a missions trip lived in awesome beauty every day and their leader reminded them, 'it is hard to see beauty when you are starving. It is a gift to be able to enjoy nature's beauty'.

We Only See in Part

We only see in part

And cannot understand

The fullness of God perfect love

Or working of His hand

Sometimes the things we see

Of hurt and pain and grief

Are whispers of God’s love to draw

Us from our unbelief

We cannot see the plan

Inspiring His will

All we can do is trust the One

Who whispers, Peace, be still

© Janet Martin

Recently I heard someone reminds us that we were never intended to understand God or His ways, but we are to trust Him, knowing His way is perfect.

Peter didn’t understand either when Jesus told them that He is going to suffer and die, and then rise on the third day.

 From that time Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.  And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, “Far be it from you, Lord! This shall never happen to you.”  But he turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a hindrance to me. For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man.” Matt. 16: 21-23

We cry ‘why’

He whispers trust

We cry ‘fight’

He whispers peace

We cry ‘take’

He whispers give

We cry ‘revenge’

He whispers love

We cry ‘self’

He whispers ME

I love this song!

A Mother's Smile

 

 

 

A mother’s smile, I’ve come to realize

Is much more than that carefree grin of youth

Before the bearing of love’s tempered truth

Learned in life’s constant hellos and good-byes

A mother’s smile is like her moment-prayer

Of gratefulness to God that he saw fit

To bless her arms with babies for a bit

And touch the home with innocence so fair

A mother’s smile is a fine mingling heart-strife

Of faith and fear, of both sorrow and joy

For none are quite as dear as girl or boy

To which she gives the best years of her life

A mother’s smile is more than lips and face

This beacon of encouragement and cheer

Stills fearful hearts and fills her tender tear

With brave surrender and love’s humble grace

© Janet Martin

In Canada it is a morning of heart-tugs as mothers everywhere put on their bravest smiles…and another school-year begins.

To Fathers of the Bride

Dear Daddy, once her hero and the apple of her eye

Your best version of laughter and the reason you would cry

Your second miles and daddy-smiles, glad victim of her charms

Your ultimate contentment as you held her in your arms

Dear daddy, once her favorite guy and no one else came near

Or rivaled for the sweet affection of your daughter dear

And love would drive you from your rest to earn her bread and keep

But still you tip-toed in to kiss her or to watch her sleep

Dear daddy, she has found her love and it lies in another

Though it seems like just yesterday, once too you stole her mother

And surely once her daddy felt the way you feel today

As he replied ‘I do’ when they asked ‘who gives her away’

Dear daddy, hold your chin up, let her take your arm and smile

Thank God you lived to be the one to walk her down the aisle

And though today you give her to belong now to another

You'll always be her daddy; she will ever be your daughter

© Janet Martin

Just Before the Rain...

Just before the rain the air

Is like a heart, tumbled and blue

The wind rises, then falls into

Silence; reverent in nature’s prayer

Prelude to heaven’s entourage

Earth's restless ambiance implores

And ruthlessly tugs open doors

Of mist and mind-veiled camouflage

Before the rain we are nineteen

But then, in sudden silver notes

Reality aches in our throats

For what must be and what has been

Just before the rain I fear

The absence of you close to me

And all my pondered poetry

Dissolves, mingling with heaven’s tear

© Janet Martin~

September, Just Before the Rain

The mist pools purple in the dell

Above the hills the ether realm

Of dark recedes; as mercy pleads

And keeps its Hand upon Time’s helm

The sky lowers before the rain

Its air, heavy with nature’s sighs

Of unshed tears unleashing years

In pantomime before closed eyes

Sedum dons sheen of autumn blush

The bushes decked in silk and dew

Beguile the heart with winsome art

As we bid sweet summer adieu

The madrigal of cricket-lay

Corn-fields like chartreuse infantry

Bear testament to Time’s intent

Folding summer to history

This path of brief mortality

Leads through each sundry season-hall

God’s kindly grace to human race

Extends, expands beneath it all

© Janet Martin

I like being outside just before the rain.