Of Utmost Importance...

Anyone who is blessed with the company of children

in their day-to-day lives knows that much time is spent teaching and training!

Today's teaching moments at Janet's house included

how to crack peanuts from the shell...

(bite softly preferably with back teeth, to crack then pull apart with fingers)

how to hold on to the swing with arms when mittens are too poof-y or slippery

how to peel pomegranate...

how to draw a chicken...

how to take turns to help with the vacuuming...

The end goal of training children is a responsible, respectful adult.

The end 'goal' of an adult is ultimately,

 for better or worse, accountability to the Giver of life,

turning all training of all children into something with an eternal impact!

No wonder Solomon gives us this advice in Prov.22:6

Train up a child in the way he should go,

[a]And when he is old he will not depart from it.

How imperative it is then, 

to constantly reevaluate/reexamine 

our hopes and dreams,

to keep our priorities pure!

Four-season circuits wheel unfazed by centuries

Like chariots of gold and teal they pass through fields and trees...

Time tries our hopes and dreams

While from dawn’s lowered barge

God replenishes mercy-streams

Sufficient for the charge

…to keep, comfort and bless

With Shepherd’s staff and rod

All who seek first His righteousness

And the kingdom/sheepfold of God

Four-season circuits wheel

Unfazed by centuries

Like chariots of gold and teal/silk and steel

They pass through fields and trees

From east to west to east

A feast of shadows spills

Where want is a voracious beast

No fortune-flaunt fulfills

…while hopes and dreams arouse

A surf of smiles and tears

That roll where dust-to-dust soon bows

Beneath death’s wreath of years

How miniscule the stack

Of numbered days of man

That charge the barge that draws us back

To where we all began

How futile zeal defends

Life’s dream-bedazzled splash

If no hope at its halt transcends

Earth’s vault of dust and ash

© Janet Martin

While We Wait (let us not grow weary...of love)

Just as an army general must rally his troops from time to time,

so too, those who put on the armor of God, need to be 'rallied'

lest we grow weary of servanthood and doing good!

Hopefully today's poem serves as a bit of a 'rallying of faith's troops'!

2 Tim.2:3-5

You therefore must endure[a] hardship as a good soldier of Jesus Christ.

 4 No one engaged in warfare entangles himself with the affairs of this life, 

that he may please him who enlisted him as a soldier. 

5 And also if anyone competes in athletics, he is not crowned

 unless he competes according to the rules.

For the grace of God has appeared that offers salvation to all people.

12 It teaches us to say “No” to ungodliness and worldly passions,

and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age,

13 while we wait for the blessed hope—

the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ,

14 who gave himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness

and to purify for himself a people that are his very own,

eager to do what is good.

Titus 2:11-14

And let us not grow weary while doing good, 

for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart. 

 Gal.6:9

'What on earth are you doing?' asked Hubby on Saturday

as I pulled down the window and stood on the sill so I

could see as much as I could see😅

'I'm feasting on the view', I replied, 

'Don't you see this every day?!' he asked, a little mystified.

'Well, yes, but never quite like this before!!'

...and on that note here's to a new day, a new week, a new year,

much the same as many previous but never quite like this before!

Come, Ye that love the Lord

While we wait for Thy appearing, let us not grow weary, Lord

Weary of love’s awed revering of Thy everlasting Word

Weary of love’s faithful praying for those of faith’s dear household

And for those still lost and straying in a world, corrupt and cold

Weary of love’s exaltation for salvation’s blood bought gift

Of love’s devout consecration to Thy calling, lest we drift

Weary of worship and living to give glory to Thy Name

Weary of love’s glad thanksgiving for what faith alone can claim

Weary of love’s meek pursuit of God-ordained obedience

Of examining the fruit of choice that leads to consequence

Of encouraging and cheering one another on with joy

As we wait for the appearing of Christ’s glorious convoy

As we wait for the unveiling of the hope that we profess

To behold Thee; love’s unfailing Keeper of Thy promises

Let us with unwearied purpose do good without doubt’s despair

For love’s Due Season of harvest will be worth the getting there

Will be worth the persevering of each second mile we trod

…while we wait for the appearing of the glory of Thee, God

By the grace of Thy salvation and the power of Thy Word

With love's renewed dedication, let us not grow weary, Lord

© Janet Martin

There is Rest By and By

Of Real-Time Poetry (and learning to read it)

The end of the old year and the beginning of the new 

have seen very little sunshine in our area!

 Celebrating happiness in today's post! 

Hopefully, it will be like a splash of sunshine in spite of the weather!

The 7-day forecast coming up has yellow in it. yay!

I want to be impacted by the thunder of the clock

I want to be distracted by fallen leaves on the walk 

This is the day the Lord has made.

Let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Psalm 118:24

The hard-pressed quest for happiness can sometimes overlook

The day’s unbridled loveliness in Real Time’s poem-book

Of beauty borne on loved one’s voice, of gladness turned to prayer

Of cherishing the charge of choice with conscientious care

Of birthday boy, wild with pure joy of turning sweet, sweet six

Still unbothered by life’s employ of moment-metered tricks

And diehard quests for happiness where happiness runs free

In the strange font of noise and mess of Real Time poetry

Of little girl who tugs the hand of honored smiles run wild 

(Surely there is nothing so grand as hand-in-hand-with-child)

Where Real-Time poetry can mete no sweeter happiness

Than tugs and hugs and dancing feet and pretty princess dress

Time’s wizened ways, where yesterdays accumulate, become

A surreal haze charged with displays of Real-Time’s soldered Sum

Where change mingled with changelessness teaches us as we age

In hard-pressed quests for happiness, to treasure every page/stage

The changelessness of change adapts to every size and shape

And draws dreamland’s fantastic mats out from beneath rapt gape

Reminding us not to get caught up in fond fantasy

Lest we miss the momentous jot of Real-Time Poetry

The quest for happiness is like a thief that steals the show

While buds turn into leaf and hold turns into letting go

While happiness fills coffers with lyrics that spill and brim

When love becomes the author and when life becomes a hymn

Happiness makes the most of now and here’s imperfect ‘yes’

It takes in stride both smile and tear with humbled thankfulness

Not overcome with yearning for what simply cannot be

Happiness is in learning to read Real-time Poetry

I want to be impacted by the thunder of the clock

I want to be distracted by fallen leaves on the walk 

I wanted be dumfounded no matter which way I look

By poetry unbounded in life's Real-Time Poem Book

© Janet Martin

I learned the first song as a little girl at school!

Happiness is the Lord

Happy Days are Here Again

The Happiness of Having You

 

If You're Happy and You Know It

A Few of the Reasons Why I Love You

Happy 6th Birthday, Grandson!

Yesterday marked six years since Jim and I became grandparents!

(yes, the hockey game was on during the celebration!)😅

When I was a little girl the high-light of turning six

was the dearly anticipated mommy-box 

(mommy pronounced with a short 'e' at the end:

    the word for 'gramma' in Pennsylvania-Dutch) 

I decided to surprise Grand-sonny and start the tradition too.

Now his sister will have the joy of the anticipation! 

A momme-box consists of a calendar-picture-pasted box

(like a shoe-box)

filled with treasures hidden in popcorn!

The inside also holds nuggets of wisdom and treasures from God's Word!

(bigger version of writing at the bottom of this post)

Sister was DELIGHTED... a treasure with her name on it💝

Baby Brother had no idea what was going on but it sounded fun so he joined in the joy too😘

I love you little lambkin with a sparkle in your eye

Or tell me, did a cherub softly flutter from the sky

To burst our hearts with happiness and remind us once more

As long as there are babies, life is worth the living for

I love you little tot with crinkled, freckle-sprinkled nose

As curious as a puppy and as pretty as a rose

A perfect blend of innocence with mischief woven through

To remind us, where there are tots, there’s lots of laughter (and hair-pulling groans) too

I love you little girl and boy eager to learn to fly

You startle love’s parental joy with discipline’s oh-my

Teaching mommy and daddy to talk to God every day

(Because)

As long as there are children there will be reason to pray

© Janet Martin

Below are a few pictures of my momme-box

(Long time readers of this blog have seen it before but not for a while)

received on June 7th, 1972

With a few treasures that came in it...

 

Where Multitudes Still Follow (and many turn away)

Matt.4:16-17&25

The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light,

And upon those who sat in the region and shadow of death

Light has dawned.”

   From that time Jesus began to preach and to say,

“Repent, for the kingdom of heaven [c]is at hand.”

Great multitudes followed Him—

It's been a gloomy stretch of weather here...

The billows of snow from a little over week ago reduced

in short order to puddles!

We long for the great light of the sun after a long stretch of none,

yet, this but a mild comparison to the light of the world that has already come

and eternally pierced the darkness of sin and death!

Are you living in the joyful light/awareness of God's great love for you?

***

Multitudes followed Him where a Great Light had dawned

In the manger at Bethlehem, 

then Egypt and beyond

The One, prophets foretold of glory’s suffering

Had stepped to redemption’s threshold, 

the hope of man to bring

…calling all to ‘repent, for God’s kingdom is near’

Goodness and mercy’s covenant 

would pour in gory tear

Where faithful unto death the Lamb of God became

For the believer’s dying breath, 

life only death can claim

…and Jesus is the Name whereby mankind is saved

No minor prophet, He who came 

to conquer death’s dark grave

With a great light unfurled throughout eternity

Jesus, the Savior of the world 

can set death’s captive free

The light that cannot dim still gleams unto this day

Where multitudes still follow Him 

and many turn away

But those who trust behold what bold doubters ignore

Of signs that prophets long foretold 

when time will be no more

When the clouds will be seared, and every eye shall see

And look upon the One they pierced

 with their iniquity

And the whole world will wail at the sight of I AM

His power and glory unveiled 

as all ‘behold The Lamb’

But lo, all who repent and died to self are saved

Their names are written on the hands 

that Calvary engraved

But oh, all who refused 

love’s grace and truth to claim

Are released, by their choosing to 

Hellfire's unquenched flame 

© Janet Martin

I kept veering from the last line,

inadvertently trying to 'soften' it

but why?!!

life/death is a Heaven or hell matter!

there is no in between!

P.S. it feels fantastic to be upright without a spinning head after a day in bed with the flu.

My heart and prayers have been rekindled for those who spend day after day in bed!

My sister-in-law (Karen) is in the hospital since last Thursday 

suffering from a twisted bowel. Please join me in praying for her healing and

her and her family's encouragement!

My cousin who is an invalid due to MS, 

and his family appreciated your continued prayers as well!

He Will hold Me Fast

Age Old Assurance for the Newness of Now

 O God, our Help in Ages Past

Nothing is Impossible With God

Whether at the beginning of a year

the middle or the end

the bedrock of 

faith's hope, joy and peace 

remains the same; trust God

A New Year.

A New Day.

The same God

Come what may

Though the way

No one can see

Faith in God

Seals victory

God's Word like

A steadfast Hand

Leads into

The Promised Land

His Word does

Not lead astray

As we hope

And trust and pray

In the power

Of God’s might

Faith will be

Equipped to fight

Pray we never

Run this race

Without God’s

Armor in place

Then and only

Then will we

Be fitted

For what will be

Then faith will

Be undeterred

Through the power

Of God’s word

Where without God

We are weak

And we know not

What we seek

… or what master

To obey

In the newness

of Today

A new day

and a New Year

The same God

To commandeer

...the same goodness

truth and love

Fills the Unknown

with Enough

© Janet Martin

Heb.11:8

By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place 

he would later receive as his inheritance,

 obeyed and went,

 even though he did not know where he was going.

A New Year Revolution

Happy New Year!

Below is an image of a card that my grandparents received in/around 1937.

This book from 1949 is a vault of timeless wisdom-treasure!

Here is today's meditation/blessing/wish,

as relevant today as it was then.

(Don't you love how, as time passes still

life's best and true things are timeless?!)

Come, where a new year hoists a trove

Of hopes that we maintain

Where the best we can do for love

Is love and love again

Rather than lob slight’s stinging stone

Where we all slip and err

Come, let us help each other on

This God-ward thoroughfare

For all that fuels fret-and-fuss

This precious truth abides

Goodness and mercy follow us

All the days of our lives

Then come, where the old is made new

Where endings turn to starts

Where pray, once more we resolve to

Gladden fellowmen’s hearts

© Janet Martin

Psalm 23:6

Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, 

and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.

The Poet's Yoke

 

A waltz with words that waft and twirl across a ballroom floor

The laughter of a little girl drifting from worlds of yore

A sense of imminence immersed in steadfast, common care

Of workaday and bills to pay and suppers to prepare

A sentimental ballad slipping through matters of fact

The art of bearing verses while keeping façade intact

And balancing the beckoning of worlds in want of ink

With sensible responses like cleaning the kitchen sink

To siphon from life’s thrum the rolling of a sort of sea

Rife with glints of spent summer and tomorrow’s mystery

Requires tireless patience while panning for lilt and rhyme

(This is not for the faint of heart, the art stealing time)

The poet’s yoke is made of air yet weighs a whisper-ton

With lyrics waiting to be snared and tamed and poem-spun

From brooding skies and sparkling eyes, from goodbyes and hellos

Each day unfurls a paradise of poems to compose

The merchant laughs and stuffs the chaff of trade into his sack

The maiden blushes; hopes he looks while she is looking back

The traffic rushes, the rain hisses underneath each wheel

The poet smiles and gathers manna for another meal

The poet's yoke is lily-soft yet claws the cloak of souls

With merciless persistence because always death's bell tolls

And who knows when the pen may fall prey to its solemn chime 

As the poet turns to behold the Giver of the rhyme 

 

Oh, pray they serve with honor the onus of pen and page

Because the life of written word survives from age to age

And who knows who will pause to read the stuff of wrangled ink

Therefore, the yoke should weigh enough to make the poet think

© Janet Martin

Okay, that's all for today, folks!

Wow! and maybe this year!

 Depends how tomorrow goes!

With much love, 

Janet

Wishing for us all, for 2023

 a fresh awareness of God

and a deeper reverence for Him,

 from whom all blessings flow