Testament of God's Kind Keep

 My voice shalt thou hear in the morning, O LORD;

 in the morning will I direct my prayer unto thee, and will look up.

Ps.5:3

Over land and sea God’s glory

Rolls in gold and rose-blush streams

Shadowland of night adjourning

Where the light of morning beams

Over hill and dale the beacon

Of God’s love to human race

Kindles the kindness of eons

In extensions of His grace

Hinged to archives none can alter

See how God’s mercy prevails

See how morning does not falter

In the hand that never fails

Over sweep of season-plunder

Faithful daybreak rends the deep

We bear witness to its wonder

And testament of God’s keep

© Janet Martin

We Are All Authors

Because every once in a while a song comes along that makes us want to grab our air-guitars and jump on the kitchen-table stage and belt it out, I have not completely turned my back on country music:) 

Yes, let's be humble and kind, possible by the grace of God, as we write the stories of our lives, but once!

We write, whether with pen or with the stroke of feet to dust

The story of each life is written once for each of us

And though it seems so much of it is beyond our control

With who we are and what we have we write with heart and soul

The penmanship of moments bleeds through quills in sundry ways

Where dawn and dusk ignite and snuff the breadth of mortal days

And we should write with utter care and be aware because

The touch and taste of it turns into tales of what once was

Then pray the Lord our words will be worthwhile and good and kind

For what we write with what we have is what we leave behind

And pray our souls be on their guard, for love to fill our quills

As from the inkwell of God’s grace the story of life spills

We are all authors of a story only we can spell

Then grip time’s pen with holy awe and seek to write it well

For soon the dust that we kick up will settle; who knows when?

And seal our stories still unfolding from each pulsing pen

© Janet Martin

 Be very careful, then, how you live--not as unwise but as wise...

Eph.5:15

Of Daffodils and Rain-strummed Rills

 We are having another hint-of-spring splash!

My, my the mind grins, giddy at suggestions in the air

Of hill and field soon spilling pretty flowers everywhere

For one of nature’s finest words to ever please the tongue

Is riding on the buoyancy of lilting zephyr-song

And hearts muffled with heavy garb of flannel-fashioned string

Are suddenly much lighter at the mention of it; spring

So long, bold, blundering buffoon, braggart of ice and snow

We have grown weary of your wit; its time for you to go

The cloak you flaunt is full of want, and we are full of hope

Where sun cajoles lopsided holes to the south-facing slope

And earth sheds you like love sheds the despondency of loss

As hearts begin to feel the thinning of grief’s albatross

How happy is the hinterland ‘neath prospects primed with bud

The wonderland of winter succumbs to mantles of mud

Before the pictures that thought paints become reality

Where the green word of spring ignites delightful fantasy

And the mind grins, glad, giddy at the word the air suggests

Of daffodils and rain-strummed rills and birdie-brimming nests

© Janet Martin

Wonderful Everyday

These days are not often recalled or regaled over tea

Like background music, without prominence in memory

Until change jars awareness to what softly slips away

The Wonderful of ordinary, common everyday

These unsung heroes rise and set and we forget them soon

And never herald with applause the mundane afternoon

Until upon a couch we lie and sigh with fevered thought

For the Wonderful of every-days so readily forgot

The tune of a tea kettle is a five-star serenade

And chatter ‘round the dinner-table, music heaven-made

Duty, life’s well-worn hand-me-down, is a charge fit for kings

The beauty of a chore well done among life’s finest things

That thing we crave is set before us without fame or laud

The banner of a newborn day spills gold or gray, from God

And should we be so blessed as to forget its fine-spun fray

Then we are gifted with life’s best; Wonderful Everyday

© Janet Martin

In hushed tones Matt remarked the other day...'I can't imagine a home without a mom',

as clean laundry re-appeared and food returned to its rightful places,

and smiles to family-faces.

Not that life stopped...it clattered merrily by the puddle of blankets on the couch,

 with here and there The Question, 'are you feeling better yet?'

I'm SO glad-glad-glad to be off this couch, for the daytime hours at least...

by 5:00 I still crash:( but normal is slowly returning...

It's Up To Us

We can wallow in the quagmire of doubt, failure and despair

Or recognize our brokenness and yield to God in prayer

We can flounder in the quicksand founded in fear’s futile plight

Or we can cling to the lifeline of faith fixed beyond our sight

We can tumble with the tempest or surrender, safe, secure

Believing in God's promises and thus through Him endure

We can worry ‘bout the morrow and the sorrow it may bring

Or choose not to borrow trouble but trust God in everything

© Janet Martin