Power Source

When we are weak it bids us seek

Someone to lean upon

For we are all subject to fall

No one can stand alone

And who can bear life’s load of care

Without a faithful friend

And who can be our Surety

When human helpers end

This little life is filled with strife

And disappointment’s hits

We need God's grace to help us face

Whatever He permits

His grace will be enough to see

Us through the darkest vale

Faith’s intercourse, the Power Source

That can and will not fail

For He who probes the petal-globes

And fills Time's transient holds

Is omniscient and sufficient 

For all that it unfolds

© Janet Martin

 But He said to me, 

 “My grace is sufficient for you,

  for My power is 

perfected in weakness.” 

 Therefore I will boast 

all the more gladly 

 in my weaknesses,  

so that the power of Christ 

 may rest on me. 

That is why, 

for the sake of Christ, I delight

 in weaknesses, 

in insults, 

in hardships, 

in persecutions, 

in difficulties. 

For when I am weak, 

then I am strong.

2 Cor.12:9-10

Ah, Motherhood

Happy Belated Mother's Day!

Hectic happiness swooshed yesterday away 

before I had a chance to do a post! 

It's nice to have a day to reflect on family's imperfect 'Happy', isn't it?!

Words of love whether texted, phoned, told face to face or carded are precious treasures

for mothers to tuck away and pull out on a 'rainy' day!

So thankful for my mom!

Ah, Hardest Best that love allots

Of test mingled with joy

Of learning lessons more than once

As She trains girl and boy

Ah, grandest gift that life can give

In spite of constant cares

As motherhood becomes the sieve

Through which she pours her prayers

Where love like none before or hence

(Save God who authors Good)

Will grant such sacred recompense

As humble motherhood/parenthood

Ah, vessel made of flesh and blood

Yet mighty, by God’s grace

Her form must bear the tearing flood

Of birthing human race

There ending and beginning meld

Where earth and heaven meet

As nothing love-borne is withheld

From tiny hands and feet

God, hold her hands as she holds hands

That pull and pull away

Help her where love’s lifelong demands

Teach and teach her to pray

For motherhood is not a game

No fame highlights its goals

Mother is charged with Heaven’s Claim

She cares for living souls

God, bless this Hardest Best of All

Of bitter-sweetest Good

For there is no other such call

Like that of motherhood

© Janet Martin

Mother-to-Mother...

 When hubby asks me what we talked about (on those rare occasions when moms go out)

more often than not I reply 'mostly mom-stuff'

I wondered what took Victoria so long to fuel up the Journey...

until she walked in with "Happy Early Mother's Day!"

Though we may not have met, as yet

We understand each other

Because we share love’s kindred care

When we become a mother

… for motherhood, so dear and good

Will fix within our bearing

A strange alloy of grief and joy

Born out of deepest caring

Where mother’s love will rise above

The circumstance and reason

Her prayers-tears-smiles fill whiles and miles

Without reserve or season

Who can explain love’s purest pain

When we become a mother

Its charge bestows high-fives and blows

Quite unlike any other

This humbling, fumbling, stumbling Best

This heart-string-honing tether

This lifelong faith-trust-hope-strength test

Binds all mothers together

For motherhood, so dear and good

Oft startles and confounds us

So, mother-to-mother, we need each other

To be God’s arms around us

© Janet Martin

Vexatious Vortex

Vexatious vortex of goodbye

It delves the deep that spawns the sigh

That stirs in its geography

Blurred vestige of what used to be

As longing clashes with the bars

Of sun-sparkles soon snuffed by stars

Where little lilts of life cement

A pageantry of seasons spent

…of gladness mingled with a sense

Of summers lost to recompense

We cannot keep for long The Now

That always slips from us somehow

Into that place that is no more

Comprised of highs and lows before

The toll of twilight softly pealed

And tucked today to coffers sealed

In silk and steel of smiles and tears

That keens the verge of yester-years

And makes us feel a little lost

Between the tug of prize and cost

The surge of day-to-day, oh my

Vexatious vortex of goodbye

As the heart races with intent

Then soon embraces seasons spent

As the trawler of soundless seas

Dredges the deeps where memories

Are not made by some secret How

But with Sacred Commonness; Now

Where all we have and hold falls prey

To the vortex of yesterday 

...where Time is never long enough

When it comes to the ones we love

Where gain is always hinged to loss

And pain is pleasure's albatross

Where Sacred Commonness of Now 

Slips through us without shouts of wow

To tune the deeps with fresh supply

Of inexorable goodbye

While we shoulder the ebb and flow

Of farewells soldered to hello

   

© Janet Martin