Worth Striving For...

I've had much reason recently to re-evaluate what/who 'fires my engine'. 

How about you? 

What gets your motor running in the morning (besides coffee;-)?

Worth striving for...

...for eyes to see the majesty of The Weaver; He threads

The loom that ushers bloom where bud to dark, stark limb is wed

In cloven fold pink, mauve, green, gold, indigo, crimson pause

And trust the timing of the Touch that ordained nature’s laws

For tender heart; the art that scarred its canvas first is cursed

With envy, spite and greed; sin’s seed the blight that births man’s worst

Enemy, Self; the pelf it pilfers to stuff dust-framed hull

Would hush bold boast in utter shame if God exposed the full

For hands that help and hold, and fold in humble, earnest prayer

Marked with wrinkles diamonds chiseled from mines of faithful toil and care

Not wrung with worthless worry or laid lazy in fat laps

But busy with life’s beauty as love comforts, cheers and claps

For mouth that knows when to stay closed; to master the flesh-bit

That drips with idle tsk-tsk if we fail to bridle it

But rather to gather thought first then let speech gently spawn

An arm around the downcast soul, a shoulder to lean on

For feet that travel second miles without a backward glance

To look for reimbursement, nay, but steps that leap and dance

So when the end of Time extends a welcome mat of rest

These well-worn shoeless feet will know they gave life’s run their best

For ears to hear more than the noise that stirs impulse; my God

Pity the one who does not know Thy Voice that tunes the sod

For Hope, not wish and want to taunt faith’s formless Certainty

For more, much more of Thee, my God, and less, much less of me

© Janet Martin

Though the mountains be shaken
    and the hills be removed,
yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken
    nor my covenant of peace be removed,”
    says the Lord, who has compassion on you.
Isa. 54:10

Take a Minute to Marvel...

Every good and perfect gift is from above,
coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights,
who does not change like shifting shadows. 

James 1:17

Take a minute

Then look in it

Count God’s gifts to

You and I

Look how laughter

Sweetens after

Sorrow spills then

Passes by

Touch the places

That love graces

With meek, holy

Reverence

Soon the motion

Of Time’s ocean

Tunes a tide of

Severance

It is never

Always winter

Sea of seasons

Ebbs and flows

Trouble-bubble

Harvest, stubble

Winter harbours

Summer's rose

See, love's hours

Bloom like flowers

In the gardens

Of our hearts

Take a minute

And look in it

At the beauty

It imparts

Not for nothing

Is the Something

That we suffer,

Savour, oh,

We can weather

Any weather

Through the grace where-

By we go

Want is surprised…

Time is baptized

With mercies

That leaves thought awed

Take a minute

And look in it

At the tender

Touch of God

Over, under

Ages thunder 

With God's love

Misunderstood

Calm or chaos

God is with us

Always faithful

Kind and good

 

© Janet Martin

It's True...I Love Plumped Pillows, Comfy Couches and Fuzzy Slippers

 In their hearts humans plan their course, but the LORD establishes their steps.

 Prov.16:9

Sometimes I am not ready yet

To say some words out loud

I fear my faith is small at best

My nature stubborn, proud

But one thing I will dare to speak

And none can prove it wrong

Is how, (deep breath) when I am weak

Then God in me is strong

I do not want discipline’s rod

All children need, and yet

“Be still and know that I am God”

How often I forget

And forge headstrong through plan and prep

Like foolish children do

Ignoring He who cups the step

That He alone sees through

…then like a tender Father He

Though it may feel unkind

Administers Necessity

With end result in mind

He does not plump pillows or kiss

My foolish vanity

But strips away what hinders this;

His Love shining through me

© Janet Martin

To Today's Response Team...

“We cannot choose our external circumstances, but we can always choose how we respond to them”

 ― Epictetus

Nobody seemed to mind that it was no one's birthday...

there was a candle they each had a turn to blow out,

there was singing and there was leftover cake with blue icing!

  

Touch it

Tease it

Taste it

Squeeze it

Shake it

Break it

Walk,

Leap,

Sit

Stumble-

Tumble

But

Don’t grumble

Life is what

We make of it

© Janet Martin

Moment-montage

 I have no idea why but listening to this...

 inspired this...

If moments had sound

would they splash the ground like rain

or dash like pelting sleet

Would they run in rivulets

down the lane

to pool in poems at our feet

Or would they land

like sugared sand

on outstretched hands and tongues

Where we would twirl

And twirl

like yester’s girl,

forever and ever 

young

If moments made noise

would they be

like a blushing school boy’s 

 bravado

Or would they dance

In footloose romance

like Bach’s 

violin concertos

Or maybe they would surge,

in salt-spray splurge

of rhinestones 

...a gold and silver shiver

tossed against a

backdrop of twilight’s

purple 

and turquoise river

If we could hear a moment

would it fox-trot

or tango

… or pop like a 

rainbowed soap bubble

Would it melt

 like a flake of snow

or, fade like the afterglow

of trouble

if we heard a moment

ah,  would it

 tiptoe out of bed

all sleepy-headed 

looking for

a bit

of buttered bread…

© Janet Martin