Not Finished Yet

Let's face it; there are days that drain us emotionally, physically, even spiritually 

but God is on his throne while we are here yet never alone...hallelujah!

(yes, those are red leaves....already!!)

We are not finished yet

This thing that God ordained

When He breathed life to you and I

Can leave us vexed and pained

Life’s slip-and-stumble grid

Of get-up-try-again

Carves hunger to a learning curve

That word cannot explain

Time impresses upon

The likes of you and I

The impact of its brevity

As seamless years haste by

And all that we can do

Is never to forget

As long as God grants time anew

We are not finished yet

© Janet Martin

...so we tackle to-do lists that needs must be

and trust God for that which we cannot see...

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.

Gal.6:9 

Of What We Touch a Moment...

Today is like a canvas,

That unfolds with the dawn

Its moments paint the pictures

That we look back upon

Then move the brush with rev’rence

Handle the page with care

For what passes in moments

Remains forever There

And often thought will wander

That heart-hung gallery

Of what we touch a moment

Then hold eternally

© Janet Martin

I think today calls for a picnic...

the perfect interruption 

to a continuous 'shmozzle' of gardening,

food-prep, 

dirty dishes 

and other daily blessings!

Oh! you're wondering what kind of cookies those are?;-)

These (recipe below) only I substitute oil for the margarine and reduce the amounts of sugar a little.

I missed capturing on camera the moment of little-boy milk mustaches and cookie-crumb beards:)

Morning's Color-world

Across celestial croft

Soft-kissed, night’s mural fades

As newborn day persuades

In Origins aloft

From Master-hands unfurled

A virgin bloom uncurled

To fill the sweep of hill and deep

With morning’s color-world

Have any heard or seen

Time stirred like this before?

Heaven unbars a door

Stars dim within the sheen

Of opportunity

And all that waits to be

As grace anoints what it appoints

To Mercy’s filigree

The wonder of the Lord

Is not a hidden spring

But touches everything

That man cannot afford

Freely His Hand bestows

The tincture to a rose

That fills the air with Welcome where

Morning’s color-world glows

© Janet Martin

Can you check the weather? asked my son before going to work.
Well, I replied, according to the red sky this morning it will rain today.
Aw, that doesn't mean anything, he said, hoping they will harvest grain today...
Well, according to Matthew 16 it does, and I hunted up this passage,

The Pharisees and Sadducees came up, and testing Jesus, they asked Him to show them a sign from heaven. But He replied to them, "When it is evening, you say, 'It will be fair weather, for the sky is red.' "And in the morning, 'There will be a storm today, for the sky is red and threatening.' Do you know how to discern the appearance of the sky, but cannot discern the signs of the times?…

We checked the local forecast. It predicts a 70% chance of thunderstorms today.

A Twilight Love-letter

He dips His quill into a well

Of sky and sea and sod,

And writes, 'with everlasting love,

Your faithful Father, God

With colors that no brush can snare

Where Past's eons increase

He breathes upon dusk's waning air

A twilight masterpiece

Janet Martin

The Mighty One, God, the Lord,
    speaks and summons the earth
    from the rising of the sun to where it sets.

Ps.50:1 

Oh, Days of August

Oh, days of August, sun-sweet summer days

Of mist-haze mantled morn, noon’s sultry sigh

A paradise of cricket-serenade

And pools of shade where barefoot dreamers lie

The aspirations of the heart are torn

Twixt holding close or bravely letting go

Reverie and renewal spar, forlorn

Because of what the head has come to know

…that August days settle like dust and haze

In echoes where yester-year’s summers waft

And all along the shoreline of Thought’s gaze

Its rolling, tolling waves crash whisper-soft

This chariot of fire soon relents

It sweeps across the eventide of years

Lavishing hills and trees with testaments

Siphoned from the well of Nature’s tears

Oh, days of August, sun-sweet golden ride

A sea upon which summer-drifters sail

Surely Mercy’s Goodness captures its tide

To blaze upon the hearth in winter’s gale

© Janet Martin

P-s-s-s-t, 

Don't look too far behind you 

or too far out to sea

But live-laugh-love right where you are

In the middle of what will be

For August waits for no one

A kiss of flower tears

A swish of golden-purple skirts

and then she disappears

  

This Testing Place

This place that we pass through

Is fleeting as the day

This place where Truth and lies compete

This place of come-what-may

This place of birth-to-death-to-God

Of love and hatred’s grief

Of fecklessness where fool’s applaud

A hopeless unbelief

This place where so few seem to seek

Treasures, apart from Self

This place where every word we speak

Is written Somewhere Else

This place of grace, of slip and fall

Of get-up-try-again

This place where anyone can call

To God who understands

This place of dirt, hurt, toil and groan

Is grave as grave can be

For it is but a steppingstone

Into Eternity

© Janet Martin

 But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.

Isa.53:5