Hope For Heaven Renewed

 

Hurting and praying for the Schuurmans... 

Oh God! this plow that pushes through time’s joy and sorrow sweeps

Was not designed for those who pine for that which Bygone keeps

Time’s horror, hurt and hunger renews Heaven’s hope each morn

As from this place of grief and grace a precious face is borne

And nothing we can do or say will return that which was

So, if we hear Salvation’s plea, pray we reply because

Who knows the ending of what begins as another day?

And who knows who, before come twilight, will be called away?

Oh wow! the plow we push forward leaves furrows full of Past

Death reminds us to live each day as if it was our last

…and we should always, only, ever use the time God grants

To make the best of life and love while we still have the chance

© Janet Martin

Comfort-able Life (able to find true comfort-life)

Sometimes an eye-opener reminds us to consider all the calamities that God, 

rich in mercy, spares us from...

No matter what happens God is always mediating on our behalf!

 

 

So often Lord, we cannot fathom what You orchestrate

Life’s way of day to day appoints battle before reward

It runs through Mercy’s faithful flue where dawn is like a gate

That swings ajar and never far from where You are, oh Lord

So often Lord, we do not see the angels that you send

To guard the place where human race would be destined to fail

Your purpose and protection, more than we can comprehend

…for flesh and blood’s brave, boldest boast at best is yet so frail

So often Lord, we tend to trust what sight can prove, for oh

Faith’s ‘evidence of things unseen’ is hard to shape with thought

And contrary to we who much prefer to touch-see-know

Instead of ‘waiting on the Lord’ as we who believe ought

So often Lord, we get caught up in want instead of need

Where ‘lust of flesh, lust of the eye and pride of life’ deceive

And oft we underestimate how oft you intercede

To save us from destruction we find easy to achieve

So often Lord, you long to gather us like little chicks

Beneath your wings; but we will not, and so you watch and wait

And never leave or forsake we, masters of stones and sticks

In ways we never realize you guard and mediate

© Janet Martin

Perfect Peace

If we, with confidence unmoved

Would walk without doubt, fear and dread

The path where none can see ahead

…if we could trust life’s plan approved

By He who humbly, wholly braved

Obedience; (suffered sin’s blame  

Though sinless Son of God, became

The Name whereby mankind is saved)

If we, like Jesus, would release

The will of man to will of God

And trust His love no matter what

Then we would live in perfect peace

© Janet Martin

So faith comes from hearing, and hearing by the word of Christ.
Rom.10:17NASB

(this poem inspired in part by today's devotional reading)

Enjoy!

Enjoy! This fleeting meeting with earth’s treasure trove of bloom

(For every bud breaks only once to splay its petal-plume)

It excites expectation as earth’s flower-sea runs wild

And invites us to wade through it with wonder of a child

Enjoy! This panoramic sweep of green-gold promenade

Cannot keep verdant color long, before it starts to fade

Then pursue with intention heady hues of purple-pink

Where what we take for granted is transplanted in a wink

Enjoy the lay of leaf-vesper as light of day grows dim

Notice the way branch-minstrels play summer’s perfected hymn

Before life’s law and order reclaims what began at birth

Where nothing with the breath of life can remain here on earth

Enjoy! Applaud the God who creates all four seasons well

Who, with no help from anyone designed each flower-bell

And placed between the bully gales that blow, spring-summer-fall

Where for his glory nature spills the best worship of all

© Janet Martin

Will Heaven Have July?

Oh God, I know in Heaven there will be no cause to sigh

Its wonders none can fathom where there is no ‘come to pass’

But if you could, oh, would you save a corner for July

Where lilies of the field wander a hill of wind-tossed grass?

Where dashing brooks slow to a sleepy crawl; where crickets trill

And lush hush steeps the countryside before the break of day

And could you give the bright-eyed boy the joy of fishing, still?

And somewhere let a meadow spill the smell of fresh-mown hay

And though there is no night can twilight lean its shadows where

The sun beamed bright in middle day, and can its ‘set’ be pink?

And then, because in Heaven there will be no need for prayer

Will there still be a river-bank where we can sit and think?

And watch the butterfly flit by and listen to the hymn

As soft breeze strums the leafy strings where fledglings learn to fly

God, I don’t want to seem as though I fret about such things

…but if Heaven is perfect will one corner be July?

© Janet Martin