Breakthrough

An air of excitement, a thrill of something intangible rides the waking breeze

When spring breaks through the seal of bud and mud, to frill earth's hills and trees

The bloom breaks through the bud

The light breaks through the dark

The shoot breaks through the gloomy mud

To gild the brooding bark

Green breaks through shrouds of brown

Green breaks through cloven clutch

To clothe earth in a teeming gown

Beneath the Weaver’s touch

Spring breaks through poised delight

Like warmth breaking through cold

Like morning breaking through the night

In madrigals of gold

© Janet Martin

Holy Accountant

God, life's Giver stokes the barren limb...

Not the dollars in our coffers

Nor the boast of human flesh

Not the birthdays that we number

Or the acres we possess

But God counts the tears of sorrow

And the prayers secretly prayed

He tallies our sacrifices

For the price that once He paid

Not the number of our holdings

That the Arm of Lending grants

Far dearer to God the offering

Of faithful obedience

...far dearer the feet that struggle

In shoes frayed by second miles

And the hands, calloused with labor

To induce another's smiles

Not the Things that weight our fingers

Nor the strings affixed to sod

But each humble heart of worship

These are counted by our God

© Janet Martin

 So then, each of us will give an account of ourselves to God. Heb.14:12

A One-time Opportunity

Now we, beneath time’s setting-rising sun

For all the sighing, laughing, weeping strife

Have but one opportunity, my love

To live, come thus what may, a lovely life

This passing through time’s way is fraught with care

And oft we may be tempted to complain

But, if we shape our pleas in humble prayer

God is faithful to comfort and sustain

There are no guarantees in life but one

With its last breath, death seals our destiny

Where we reckon to God what we have done

With this; the courtship of eternity

For, but once we traverse Mercy’s through-way

The cradle and the grave wrest side by side

Betwixt, God grants the opportunity

To live, come thus what may, a lovely life

© Janet Martin

We stood at the coffin for a few moments, among throngs of neighbors, family and friends who came to do the same; see one who has lived his lovely life and to offer condolences to his dearest love’s, as they experience God’s arms around their deep, deep sorrow and relief for their beloved Arnold who will never suffer again!

 The LORD is close to the brokenhearted...Ps.34:18

This One Life We Live

 

For not so long ago you were mother's 'wee little man...'

...now she is small and you are tall...

Time has a way of satin-softly slipping by and by

From Saturday to Saturday how oft we say, ‘oh my’

At how swiftly a season spins Saturday’s into years

With laughter-chatter-labor-dinner-supper’s tick-tock spheres

I touch the number seventeen and string it through your name

And cannot quite begin to grasp how suddenly it came

For not so long ago you were mother’s ‘wee little man’

Now she is small and you are tall with tick-tock’s after-span

Nobody knows as birthdays come and go how many wait

Before the surging forward flow of tick-tock spheres abate

Then pray we do not waste the haste of love-and-living laud

For this one life we live is a like a gift from God to God

© Janet Martin

Happy 17th Birthday, Matt.

 How can a young man keep his way pure? By keeping it according to Your word. Ps.119:9

Ready When...

Someday t’will not be ‘he’ or ‘she’

That passes from Time’s Here to There

Someday it will be you or me

Plucked from this mortal thoroughfare

Oh, pray that we are ready when

God calls us from earth’s sons of men

Someday t’will not be ‘them’ and ‘they’

Witnessing life’s Great Mystery

Where death unveils That Untold Way

Someday it will be you and me

Called from the smallness of Time’s Here

Where There will never disappear

Someday, to the blue vaulted dome

Our eyes will close, as we pass through

Because a Father called out, ‘Come’

Someday it will be me or you

Oh, pray before life’s last amen

We know that we are ready when...

© Janet Martin

This morning Arnold who turned 50 exactly a month ago,(see this post for more) heard the call 'come' and he went. Rest in peace, Arnold.Your suffering is done, the battle won. Hallelujah!