Leader, Guide, Director

The beautiful truth of God's love is, it is perfect even when life hurts! 

I wrote this poem with tears in my eyes, a lump in my throat and hope in my heart 

because God/love never fails!

Our Sunday morning message included these promises...

 The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still."

(with easy-to-remember-reference) Exodus 14:14

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, 

who^[ have been called according to his purpose.

Rom.8:28

Mist morning-tide seeps through hushed deeps across flushed meadowlands

It kisses slumb’ring worlds from sleep and rouses time’s demands

Where oft the ways of right and wrong collide and intersect

And oft we need to pray to God to lead, guide and direct

To lead us from temptation else we would be drawn astray

To guide through tribulation when we cannot see the way

To direct our path when mercy feels misunderstood

And trust His word, pure, undeterred ‘He works for our good’

He orchestrates, beyond mankind’s perception, Perfect Plan

His thoughts and ways are higher than the thoughts and ways of man

So Lord, forgive us when we doubt; our errant want correct

And teach us how to trust You as You lead, guide and direct

 

© Janet Martin

He leads me in the paths of righteousness For His name’s sake. Ps.23:3

Guide me in your truth and teach me, 

for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.

Ps.25:5

In all your ways acknowledge Him, 

And He shall direct your paths. Prov:3:6

 

Happy Mother's Day

...from one of my favorite timeless sermons by Peter Marshall entitled Keepers of the Springs
for the whole sermon click the link...below are a few fav parts of the message

Dear Mom,

To spell my fondest thoughts of you

Ink font is not equipped to do

And tongue alone cannot attest

To depths I plumb to try to wrest

From grateful heart, the perfect way

To tell the thoughts I wish to say

Yet eloquence cannot out-do

These simple words; Mom, I love you

© Janet Martin

and an oldie dusted off ...
(This poem is attached to the fond memory of my sister, a friend who composed a melody for this poem, myself and our daughters singing this poem/song years ago at a mother's Day service at church.
This friend's mother passed away while she was attending our oldest daughter's wedding)
Thinking this morning of all my friends who miss their mother's hands that helped to shape theirs)

Mother's Hands

 Not because of gold or silver
Not because of jeweled bands
Not because they’re soft and perfect
Do I love my mother’s hands
But because these hands once held me
Tenderly close to her breast
And because these hands would point me
To the path she knew was best

Mother’s hands so gladly labored
Mother’s hands so seldom still
Never seeking her own favor
Giving always her free will
But the thing of greatest beauty
As she tended to each care
Was her source of strength for duty
Mother’s hands were hands of prayer

Mother’s hands would clap to praise me
For a good deed I had done
Mother’s hands were there to save me
When my deeds had hurt someone
And my mother’s hands would teach me
What is right and what is good
Mother’s hands would always reach me
When no other hand e’er could

Mother’s hands so full of power
When her load was hard to bear
Even in life’s darkest hour
Mother’s hands would fold in prayer
Oh, no matter where I travel
Or how great the sights or grand
There is none to make me marvel
Like my mother’s praying hands

Praying hands can reach her children
When they’ve gone so far away
Mother knows that God will reach them
As she folds her hands to pray
Gracious Father, up in Heaven
Bless each mother everywhere
In each country, tribe or nation
Bless the hands, the hands of prayer

Janet~

excerpts from Keeper of the Springs
(click image to enlarge for easier reading)

Like No Other...

Nobody else can take her place

In loves that life may offer

One wears a truer, kinder face

Than any, any other

She leaves behind the girl she was

To answer life’s great honor

No more to serve herself because

Of love’s Call placed upon Her

Where innocence delights and charms

With blessing beyond number

When God bestows to *anxious eager arms

Life’s dearest, sweetest wonder

And though the chores this charge will ask

May seem but common duty

The love that draws Her to its task

Makes it a thing of beauty

…where she knows she cannot forsake

This sacred call, no never

 She will be stretched but will not break

For heartstrings cannot sever

And oft, though weary to the core

From a Source deep within her

She finds the strength to sweep the floor

Or clean up a late dinner

…to kiss, hug, hold, and oh, let go

As years scatter behind her

She, Keeper of the home, ‘they’ know

Where they can always find her

Her role of day-by-day lent grace

Is unlike any other

Nobody else can take the place

That God designed for Mother

© Janet Martin

*I have a niece waiting anxiously, SO anxiously/eagerly to become a mother! 

I do so hope she will be able to celebrate Mother's Day as a first time mommy!

 Thinking of you lots, Brittany!
Hang in there. It will happen and though the thought that motherhood NEVER ends can feel terrifying at first,(she expressed this and I remember feeling exactly like that!)

 we would never trade it for the world, 

and like every other call in life, it comes one day at a time, 

but unlike any other call in life God places to our care living souls! 

This is a charge like no other!

Mother-love

  

One of the favorite parts of my 'job' is chatting with the other moms about mom-stuff/love...

the bond of motherhood is universal!

Mother-love

So fierce so tender

Hands of careful

Prayerful splendor

Discipliner

And defender

Mother-love

Life-long devotion

More than

Sentiment’s emotion

Big enough

To dwarf an ocean

Mother-love

It cheers and teaches

Corrects, comforts,

Praises, preaches

Where you are

There her heart reaches

Mother-love

There is no other

Quite like the love

Of a mother

While you can

Tell her you love her

© Janet Martin

Garden's of Sod and Soul

I think I know just a little of what an artist feels as they survey a fresh canvas; 

the thrill of anticipation as sounds and colors of a picture not painted yet, keens one's senses.

Bare feet dash and pitter-patter

Children laugh and chitter-chatter

Vesper of the meadow-lark

Tunes dusk’s dust-sweet ‘getting dark’

Sigh of summer-happiness

Quivers in the poplar tress

Wakes an ache within the heart

For Farewell’s collected art

For the tincture on yon tray

Rife with pictures held at bay

Where time-shares of joy and strife

Wait to paint pieces of life

Where the garden’s gray-brown sheens

Waits to wear fresh collard/colored greens

Yellow squash and red tomato

Carrot orange, white potato

Where, for all our wish and whim

Bud holds folds that flare and dim

Where the feet that pitter-patter

Where the carefree chitter-chatter

Soon will tune the tender part

In the garden of the heart

Where the canvas of the land

Waits beneath the Painter’s hand

Where gardens of soul and sod

Trust the Providence of God

© Janet Martin

 And God said, “Let the earth sprout vegetation, plants yielding seed, 

and fruit trees bearing fruit in which is their seed, 

each according to its kind, on the earth.” 

And it was so. 

The earth brought forth vegetation, plants yielding seed according to their own kinds, 

and trees bearing fruit in which is their seed, 

each according to its kind. 

And God saw that it was good. 

Gen. 1:11-12

And God said, “Behold, I have given you every plant yielding seed that is on the face of all the earth, and every tree with seed in its fruit. 

You shall have them for food. And to every beast of the earth and to every bird of the heavens and to everything that creeps on the earth, everything that has the breath of life, 

I have given every green plant for food.” 

And it was so. 

Gen.1:29-30