Wealth of Wonder and Love

 

Wishing you a wonder-full and lovely day!

This morning is a gray, rain-drop spangled lake

rather than the golden wake of a few dusks ago...

What if this would be enough; life’s wealth of wonder and love?

What if we were satisfied with the joy that these provide?

What if our words would brim with thanksgiving’s heartfelt hymn?

What if this was happiness; finding more by wanting less

Life is rich when love/God is first; wealth of days, wonder-immersed

In spite of hard hills and holes, love and wonder still consoles

Waking worship’s madrigal, making life so worth it all

While we learn to cherish more, so much to be thankful for

Let's not seek plunder of stuff but more of wonder and love

Overflowing cups of praise from a decanter of days

Taking sparkles from life’s fount, making every moment count

Filling fortune’s treasure trove with wealth of wonder and love

What if, for all that we lack we found something to give back

Finding in love's kindliness the secret to happiness

Deepening, as years go, reverence for  'you and I'

Finding love and wonder's laud grounded in the grace of God

© Janet Martin

And let the peace of God rule in your hearts,

 to which also you were called in one body; and be thankful. 

 Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom,

 teaching and admonishing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, 

singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord.

Col.3:15-16

Ah, This Is Faith

Let us hold fast the profession of our faith without wavering;

(for he is faithful that promised;)

Heb.10:23

Living Hope- Phil Wickham

We do not have the eyes to see the ins and outs of doubt and dread

We cannot know the high and low of ways and means that lie ahead

That happiness of Mercy’s ‘yes’ is but the prelude to its ‘no’

Ah, this is life, where joy and strife run rife through grace whereby we go

Sometimes we strain to seize the rose forgetting beauty’s brutal stem

And he who suffered painful blows beneath its thorny diadem

How mercy bore without reproach, the horror of Golgotha’s tree

He did not choose to use His throne to refuse God’s authority

For this is love, the author of each sacrifice we choose to make

Without reproach, but simply for the glory of the Giver’s sake

Who offered to give all He had to prove the Father’s love for we

Who could not bridge the awful gap between God and humanity

Then pray, today our goal would be to wholly, humbly honour He

Jesus, who did not despise us, though He could behold Calvary

The brutal blows, the blood-bathed woes before His triumph over death

Then pray today our goal would be to praise His name with every breath

...for this is hope, to know in Whom we have believed and fully trust

In He whose sacrifice achieved once and for all, redemption's cost

Ah, this is faith to hold fast to the truth that His Word has made known

Until we touch the scars that tell how death and hell were overthrown 

© Janet Martin

Invisible Onus

 

While waiting for wild gales to subside a bit before going out

I seized the extra-poem opportunity without delay 😊

Opportunity is a bud begging to bloom!

It alights on the break of day like bird upon a limb

It spreads its fare like a buffet waiting to be a hymn

A sacred supplication from the moment we awake

An open invitation to be willing to partake

To rich and poor its coffer spills, minding ability

So we may seize its offer; it is Opportunity

It grants the chance to hope and pray, to do the best we can

To work with what we have today, and love our fellowman

To be a good steward with what God allots to our care

And not get caught up in the fruitless thought-life of ‘compare’

To bear the yoke of circumstance with meek humility

Aware that life is like a dance with Opportunity

…a bittersweet succession of love’s laughter, pains and aches

It lets us learn life-lessons, not through failure, but mistakes

It does not shake its head and sigh of us, ‘it is no use’

But with each day of granted breath we are without excuse

By the grace of the Giver, to embrace what waits to be

Where life is like a river rife with Opportunity

…that spills its ilk of silk and steel in an ethereal sup

Sometimes a milk and honey meal, sometimes a hard road up

Where nope and yup pour from a cup without jangle and form

Where Hope is but a wraith-like rope that dangles in the storm

Until it is the anchor of the Soul, then we will be

Equipped by faith that makes us whole, for Opportunity

© Janet Martin

As we have therefore opportunity, 

let us do good unto all men, 

especially unto them who are of the household of faith

Gal.6:10

The Truth About Things

This poem was inspired partly by this morning's Bible Love Note

and partly by spending a few hours yesterday burning

brush picked up and raked form the yard...

'At death all Things will turn to dust and ash'

Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was: 

and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it.

Eccles.12:7

Truth does not shift its weight from foot to foot

Or like a shadow; it is absolute

The precedence of God no one outranks

Man’s part is to obey and give Him thanks

This keeps the heart from becoming enslaved

To the futility of Things, the ‘old man’ craved

Truth teaches us to value what we ought

Lest in the quest for wealth, Truth is forgot

Only treasures in heaven will not rust

All else at death will turn to ash and dust

Naked we came and naked we will leave

Beware, lest snare of Satan doth deceive

The grave is the cadaver’s final splash

At death all Things will turn to dust and ash

© Janet Martin

 Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, 

where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. 

20But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, 

where moth and rust do not destroy,

and where thieves do not break in and steal.

21For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.…

Matt.6:19-21

On that note I am about to leave to buy some things,

Because some Things serve a sweet cause such as

 a gift for Grand-daughter's second birthday!

Last year store-lockdowns and Covid restrictions

 kept her first birthday a rather low-key

celebration. no gifts, no party!

This year hopefully we will celebrate with renewed awareness and thankfulness

 of the preciousness of words like 'together' and 'hello'

and 'have a piece of cake'!

From The Hull of Broken Darkness

This is more than transformation pouring from night’s broken pod

More than blush rush of creation; morning is the voice of God

We who trust the tender Shepherd know there is no need to fear

By His Shadow we are covered no matter what, He is near

Never alone, what a promise as we hope and watch and pray

From the hull of broken darkness pours far more than light of day

Lift your eyes above the chaos that afflicts this slip of sod

From the hull of broken darkness pours the faithfulness of God

© Janet Martin

Psalm 121

I will lift up my eyes to the hills—

From whence comes my help?

2 My help comes from the Lord,

Who made heaven and earth.

3 He will not allow your foot to [a]be moved;

He who keeps you will not slumber.

4 Behold, He who keeps Israel

Shall neither slumber nor sleep.

5 The Lord is your [b]keeper;

The Lord is your shade at your right hand.

6 The sun shall not strike you by day,

Nor the moon by night.

7 The Lord shall [c]preserve you from all evil;

He shall preserve your soul.

8 The Lord shall preserve[d] your going out and your coming in

From this time forth, and even forevermore.

Today's Challenge...(of what we do for who and why)

We were challenged at the end of Sunday morning's message 

to live in obedience to God, as taught through his Word, 

for the purpose, not of holding us back from our calling

but fulfilling it; giving God all honour and glory

Another day breaks

...and with it God's grace

and replies, soon left behind

Lord, help us to be vigilant,

and diligent

and kind

We wake, make plans, follow the lead

Of beck and call of want and need

Where what we do for who and why

Determines where our passions lie

Where what inspires/fires boast

Bears witness to who we love most

Where how and if and what we pray

Conveys much more than words may say

Where the hidden man of the heart

Plays a very important part

Because as time moves us along

The ‘hidden’ is not hid for long

But shows himself in how we live

In what we keep, in what we give

In gratitude and attitude

Where Rebel Self must be subdued

Where pray our utter goal would be

The soul’s accountability

And therefore, to renounce control

And pray that faith would make us whole

As with Mary’s humility

We reply, ‘be it unto me’

To glorify the One who gave

Himself, man’s selfish soul to save

So, death and hell will not prevail

When from time’s strait the soul sets sail

To meet love’s author, face to face

To reckon what we did with grace

Where what we do, for who and why

Proves who we seek to glorify…

Lord, pray that what we say and do

Today will bring glory to You

Amen

© Janet Martin

Do you not know that you are the temple of God

 and that the Spirit of God dwells in you?

If anyone [b]defiles the temple of God, God will destroy him.

 For the temple of God is holy, which temple you are.

1 Cor.3:16-17

Under The Umbrella of God's Care

Today's poem was partly inspired by my morning prayer as I asked God to please spread

His care like an umbrella over me and the kiddos that others entrust to my care...

The verge of what will be soon merges with all that has been

Whether valleys shadowed with death or pleasant pastures green...

While the kiddos play or 'help'...

... I sometimes find things to putter about with...

Pinch me! I feel like I just bedded down the gardens,

and though this may be a bit premature, (because yes,

 I do see the snowflakes in next week's forecast)

I just can't resist the urge to merge with garden-dirt a bit

(because the neighbors got a dog, we sorta did too😀)

(Yesterday morning while I was working in the kitchen I heard a clatter in the laundry room.

apparently the back door did not latch properly

after I hung out the laundry and this dog made himself at home without knocking😂

Nothing is better for a man than that he should eat and drink, 

and that his soul should enjoy good in his labor. 

This also, I saw, was from the hand of God.

Eccles.2:24

Ah, here we are, not very far from learning’s next affair

But always underneath the kind umbrella of God’s care

Because showers of blessing come in every shape and size

Some welcomed with wide open arms, some hard to recognize

We never know what waits to show its face with smile or tear

But oh, the more we trust, the less each of us has to fear

God, we are prone to groan beneath the weight of ‘what might be’

Help us to learn to lean on you with faith’s humility

The gold of beaming rampart unfolds like a work of art

From the grail of God’s mercy to the cup of human heart

Where, here we are, not very far from Love's unfailing Hand

All that we need to do is reach and He will help us stand

The verge of what will be soon merges with all that has been

Whether valleys shadowed with death or pleasant pastures green

We kick the dust of want and must; it rises but to fall

God's grace spreads like an umbrella over one and all

© Janet Martin

The gold of gleaming rampart 

unfolds like a work of art...

Morning Meditation for Soul-feet

 

Your word is a lamp to my feet
And a light to my path.

Psalm 119:105

More, oh Lord, than light of morning

To be a lamp to our feet

More than blush and gold adorning

Where light and shadow compete

Where the way is wrought with pitfalls

That the sun cannot expose

As its east to west unravels

The path to life’s curtain-close

More, oh Lord, than resurrection

Of the orb that melts the dark

Pointing in the one direction

That will never miss its mark

Let your word, be like a beacon

And a lamp unto our feet

Let it light the way of reason

Ere death’s solemn gaze we meet

More, oh Lord, than light of heavens

Over each step to preside

Futile is yon molten lantern

Mortal’s deathless crux to guide

Thus, oh Lord, let your Word ever

Be a light unto our way

For Thy Word, oh Lord, will never

Lead the feet of souls astray

© Janet Martin