Lament's Metamorphosis

Sometimes I am prone to lament the effect

without acknowledging the cause...

Sometimes I want, for instance, the wisdom from above

without first seeking, yielding, trusting, praying, obeying

Sometimes I seek a harvest from seeds I neglected to plant!

The landscape seems snagged on a see-saw 

of greenish-bronze and white these days!!

As white surf recedes, exposing sodden turf

thoughts turn more and more often to planting time!

I am old enough to recognize harvest of some seeds I wish I had not sown, 

(Or, wish I could return to sow seeds I didn't)

but if we confess our sins He (God) is faithful and just

 to forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness

 (1 John 1:9)

He may not remove the consequence 

but He gives grace for us to face

whatever harvest brings.

Also, we are never too old to keep planting!

Lament without repentance is a futile suffering

When sorrow for the consequence ignores what wrought its sting

While impulse disregarded what it should have pondered first

Because of laws imparted that can never be reversed

We will reap what we sow; this is no casual cliché

The seeds of word and deed will grow; therefore, we ought to pray

And tend with tender care what slips into time’s sprawling field

From raring lips and fingertips soon turned to sacred yield

How subtle seasons shift; how swift the seed is fully grown

There is no way around it; we must reap what we have sown

But we are not alone; as we confess sin’s errant ways

Repentance turns groaning lament into a hymn of praise

© Janet Martin

Gal,6:7-9

Be not deceived; God is not mocked: 

for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.

8 For he that soweth to his flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption; 

but he that soweth to the Spirit shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting.

9 And let us not be weary in well doing: 

for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.

James 3:17-18

But the wisdom from above is first of all pure, 

then peace-loving, gentle, accommodating, 

full of mercy and good fruit, impartial, and sincere.

  18Peacemakers who sow in peace reap the fruit of righteousness.d

Rush of Reverence (or, Blessing of Family)

Today in Canada we celebrate Family Day!

Thank you, gracious Heavenly Father for the most beloved blessing of family!

This poem began with a soft smiled desire

 to collect a medley of mementos framed in memories;

the kind most families can relate to...

It ended with me wiping away tears 

as our church family received a request to pray for a family

 who lost their son yesterday after a brief illness. 

He was in grade five and a best friend to a few boys in our church family.

There will be cake...

I realized I made exactly the same cake recipe (top left corner of photo collage)

 last year for family day weekend only last year's didn't flop😅

 (see recipe and flop details here)

There will be little fellas by their older sisters, bossed

There will be Cinderellas with glass slippers not yet lost

There will be household chores and uproars outside bathroom doors

And scoldings as trespassers tiptoe over fresh mopped floors

There will be oceans of spilled milk on which years sail to sea

While we are busy being the blessing of family

There will be tender moments (and those, not so tender too)

As love lays down firm ground rules on what and what not to do

There will be happy laughter and oh, there will be heartbreak

There will be health and sickness as we shoulder give-and-take 

There will be prayers, so many prayers, and cake and cups of tea

As we thank God for the kind blessing of a family

There will be editing as mom tries to tame grocery lists

And day trips to doctors, dentists, teachers and pharmacists

And sweet goodnights and wake-me-ups at half-past way too soon

And playdates in the backyard and laundry lines to the moon

As smiles and tears compose a dear echo-framed gallery

Of motley medleys showcasing blessing of family

There will be second miles as we all learn to do our part

To make the most of perfectly imperfect works of art

There will be popsicle mustaches, puddle-splashes, and

A bedtime-story-goodnight-kiss-prayer-paved path to dreamland

There will be storms to weather as we weather what must be

Not alone but together with blessing of family

There will be sacrifice, the price of love requires this

There will be hands to hold and hands we held and dearly miss

There will be lovely glimpses of Heaven on earth and oh,

There will be grief, as we suffer Love’s hardest letting go

Which reminds us to cherish every opportunity

To never take for granted, the blessing of family

Lord, willing there will be babies, grandmas and grandpas too

And in between, a spectrum of love's green-gold-blush-and-blue 

There will be crushing disappointments, patience-bested rants

And through it all, pray, an increasing awe for He who grants

And cares for us the same through both triumph and tragedy

While teaching us to treasure the blessing of family

There will be noise and weariness and broken toys and dreams

As girls and boys shed childhood joys far too quickly, it seems

When looking back at careworn seasons hushed by yesteryear

Leaving behind a rush of reverence for now and here

Because no one can tell how near or far lies death’s dark sea

That alters (until Heaven) the blessing of family

© Janet Martin

“Honor your father and your mother, 

that your days may be long in the land that the Lord your God is giving you.”

 – Exodus 20:12

“Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward.

 Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one’s youth.

 Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! 

He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate.”

 – Psalm 127:3-5

“Bear with one another and, 

if one has a complaint against another, forgive each other;

 as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.”

 – Colossians 3:13

below, one of my forever favs by someone who hugely impacted my love of poetry

Edgar A. Guest

Home

BY EDGAR ALBERT GUEST

It takes a heap o’ livin’ in a house t’ make it home,

A heap o’ sun an’ shadder, an’ ye sometimes have t’ roam

Afore ye really ’preciate the things ye lef’ behind,

An’ hunger fer ’em somehow, with ’em allus on yer mind.

It don’t make any differunce how rich ye get t’ be,

How much yer chairs an’ tables cost, how great yer luxury;

It ain’t home t’ ye, though it be the palace of a king,

Until somehow yer soul is sort o’ wrapped round everything.

Home ain’t a place that gold can buy or get up in a minute;

Afore it’s home there’s got t’ be a heap o’ livin’ in it;

Within the walls there’s got t’ be some babies born, and then

Right there ye’ve got t’ bring ‘em up t’ women good, an’ men;

And gradjerly, as time goes on, ye find ye wouldn’t part

With anything they ever used—they’ve grown into yer heart:

The old high chairs, the playthings, too, the little shoes they wore

Ye hoard; an’ if ye could ye’d keep the thumbmarks on the door.

Ye’ve got t’ weep t’ make it home, ye’ve got t’ sit an’ sigh

An’ watch beside a loved one’s bed, an’ know that Death is nigh;

An’ in the stillness o’ the night t’ see Death’s angel come,

An’ close the eyes o’ her that smiled, an’ leave her sweet voice dumb.

Fer these are scenes that grip the heart, an’ when yer tears are dried,

Ye find the home is dearer than it was, an’ sanctified;

An’ tuggin’ at ye always are the pleasant memories

O’ her that was an’ is no more—ye can’t escape from these.

Ye’ve got t’ sing an’ dance fer years, ye’ve got t’ romp an’ play,

An’ learn t’ love the things ye have by usin’ ’em each day;

Even the roses ’round the porch must blossom year by year

Afore they ’come a part o’ ye, suggestin’ someone dear

Who used t’ love ’em long ago, an’ trained ’em jes’ t’ run

The way they do, so’s they would get the early mornin’ sun;

Ye’ve got t’ love each brick an’ stone from cellar up t’ dome:

It takes a heap o’ livin’ in a house t’ make it home.

For So Much Still To Do

On an icicle-brickle bedazzled morn

the heart is sweet and tenderly torn

between footloose fancies that sparkle and woo

And common cares 

of chores to do

I admired from the window then tackled work-to-do...

The muffins turned out well,

( I had one bite from the missing one to sample 

because I didn't use any particular recipe.

When I came back from cleaning the bathrooms to finish my 'sampling' 

 this is all that remained)

No, I don't have a pet, but I have a husband😂😅

but the cake flopped... 

(It boiled over in the oven and lost its oomph!!)

while rooms got dusted and floors got mopped

Now its off to market,

to market

to buy a fat jug

of laundry soap, (etc.)

then home again,

home again

luggedy-lug

...to do dishes and kitchen clean up

and decide what's for sup!!

(I'm craving roasted vegetables!)

***

Today's poem was inspired in part

 by yesterday and today's devotion in the book

My Utmost for His Highest

By Oswald Chambers

Arise and let us go, for there is much to do

Redemption, greater than our woe will see each mercy through

Though many times we slip when we fail His command

The armour of God will equip us for the day at hand

Make haste without delay to pray and then proceed

Committed to trust and obey as God supplies our need

For the harvest is great but its workers are few

Arise, before it is too late for so much still to do   

© Janet Martin

Arise, My Soul Arise

Like Glimpses Through a Gate

Psalm 16:11

You will show me the path of life; 

In Your presence is fullness of joy; 

At Your right hand are pleasures forevermore.

The thrill of February spring was short-lived,

...as was the clean up from previous ice-storms, 

 We woke to a world ensconced in nature's glitz!

How oft the Creator consoles

Earth's happiness, so full of holes...

February is always a struggle for me, poetically-speaking, 

and this February is no exception, so emotionally demanding/draining

 with so much local trouble and sorrow,

not to mention globally!

But hallelujah,

 God Was, Is, and Ever Will Be in perfect control!

We walk by faith, not by sight!

2 Cor.5:7

How oft the Creator consoles

Earth's happiness, so full of holes

Where grief exacts love’s bitter thorn

As dreams are dashed and hearts are torn

…and then the morn heaps hope’s buffet

As mercy’s masterpieces splay

Like glimpses, through a gate ajar

Where everlasting pleasures are

How often our faith could be

Disillusioned by tragedy

This, but part and parcel of Time

Tethered to weathered season-chime

Where rhyme and reason could dismiss

God’s goodness with betrayal’s kiss

Until, like glimpses through a gate

He reminds us of joys that wait

How often we could lose our way

If we relied on logic’s say

Where wise and fool alike concede

Man’s days are few and full of need

But, the best this world can demand

Pales, compared to God’s Promised Land

Glimpsed through a gleaming gate, agape

With impressions of its landscape

How oft the poet’s flound’ring prayer

Could yield to pirates of despair

Where unholy taunt plunders thought

And steals joy with blessings forgot

Until God opens downcast eyes

To impact us with sweet surprise

Unveiled, like glimpses through a gate

Where worship’s endless pleasures wait

How oft life's weight of care could wage

A war that nothing could assuage

Without more than this world can host

Of temporary toast and boast

Hoisted between eternities

A flail of mortal agonies

While glimpses through yon Gate remind

The man of the soul's transient rind 

How oft the Creator consoles

Earth’s happiness, so full of holes

With glimpses of Heavenly Hills

From whence our Help and Comfort spills

To cheer us onward in the flight

Of walking by faith, not by sight

Until Yon Gate eclipses grace

And glimpses become face-to-face

© Janet Martin

Psalm 121:1-3

I will lift up my eyes to the hills—

From whence comes my help?

2My help comes from the Lord,

Who made heaven and earth.

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

He who keeps you will not slumber.

Lord, I Need You

I Need Thee Every Hour

Law of Love

Romans 13:8-10

Owe no one anything except to love one another, 

for he who loves another has fulfilled the law. 

9 For the commandments,

 “You shall not commit adultery,” 

“You shall not murder,”

 “You shall not steal,” [a]

“You shall not bear false witness,”

 “You shall not covet,” 

and if there is any other commandment, 

are all summe

d up in this saying, namely,

 “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” 

10 Love does no harm to a neighbor;

 therefore love is the fulfillment of the law.

Romans 2:13
For it is not the hearers of the law who are righteous before God,

 but it is the doers of the law who will be declared righteous.

By the grace of God alone we are able to

keep love's law!

Love, sometimes sweet as chocolate-hearts...

But more often, a blood and tear stained cross...

When I Survey the Wondrous Cross...

The law of love

Amends the wrong

Befriends the poor

And suffers long

It bears all things

Defends the truth

Rebukes the sin

With kind reproof

It cautions thought

Soon turned to deed

And weighs quick want

With humble need

It tests the root

‘ere seeds are sown

For by the fruit

The tree is known

It does not boast

It is not proud

A gentle host

Not vain or loud

It does not start

Feuds and debates

But, with meek heart

It prays and waits

...and does not seek

What crowds applaud

But helps the weak

And honors God

Whose law is love

Whose love will be

The living proof

Of 'Christ in me'  

© Janet Martin

Gal.2:20

I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live,

 but Christ lives in me. 

The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, 

who loved me and gave himself for me.

A 'Sweet Love' Song

  Happy Day-After-Valentine's Day

This poem was started on Monday

then, although I got up at six and went to bed at almost midnight

I did not get an opportunity to finish it on Valentine's Day

(as planned/hoped for on Monday!)

However, it was a day full of love,

 first childcare (including heart-puppet-creating and puppet-shows)

some eager helping...

...then going to look after my grandchildren in the evening

so their parents could have an extremely rare night out!

(photo above sent as a Happy Valentine's Day greeting yesterday morning courtesy of their mom)

Jim and I talked a few times yesterday but never about Valentine's Day!

When I got home last night I found this little reminder 

that he remembered, on my side of the bed.

(A bathrobe belt and leather belt heart😆💕😘)

He passed through the house while I was gone, 

for supper, a shower and fresh food and laundry supplies for the road. 

(all packed and ready to go because that's how we've done it for almost 35 years)

It's not fancy, but it works.

It Works-Alabama

 

(we've lived both these songs💕)

When we starting keeping score in marriage we are headed for disaster, right?!

What's the Score? Don Williams

Below, a sacred 'salute' to love!

💝

You teach me how to dance and sing,

To fall, to feast on tears

You preach from pulpits shimmering

With verge of yesteryears

You hold me close and charm me

With the friendship of hello

And with kisses disarm me

While I learn how to let go

You startle me with happiness

Too fragile for ink-font

From heart-shaped aftermath you press

Wisdom mingled with want

You haunt me with a presence

Half stranger, half family

And taunt me with an essence

Of familiarity

You make life worth the living

While accumulating scars

Where lessons of forgiving

Hone heart-shores with salty stars

You help me survive seasons

(not winter-spring-summer-fall)

By losing count of reasons

For the wonder of it all

You make sacred, the laughter

With sorrow for what is not

And drain to ever-after

Sparkles touched but never caught

You keep me humbly greedy

For more of Never Enough

Of learning to be needy

When it comes to you, sweet love

You tune me to the Giver

Of each good and perfect Gift

To Him, glory forever

His love does not wane or shift

But grants to every hour

Mercy; kind, longsuffering

For He is love; his power

Teaches me to dance and sing

© Janet Martin

1 Cor.13:13

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love.

 But the greatest of these is love.

Like a Love Song...

This morning's Old and New Testament readings

impresses on the reader the sacred sanctity of shed blood!

Lev. 17-18& Matt. 27:27-50

There Is a Fountain Filled With Blood

Lev.17:11

 ...for it is the blood that makes atonement for the soul.’ 

Matt.27:24-26

When Pilate saw that he could not prevail at all, 

but rather that a [c]tumult was rising, 

he took water and washed his hands before the multitude, saying, 

“I am innocent of the blood of this [d]just Person. You see to it.”

25 And all the people answered and said, 

“His blood be on us and on our children.”

26 Then he released Barabbas to them; 

and when he had [e]scourged Jesus, 

he delivered Him to be crucified.

***

Redemption streams 

for every sin

...repented of!!

God's promises

not slack concerning

...obedient love

***

God is not mocked

By grace we go

While ever reaping

What we sow

***

One grain of pride

Is enough to tumble

A lofty tower

ninety-nine percent humble

***

When we open the door to

What Leads to Sin

We let a host

of demons in

***

God's law does not author confusion

and chaos' increase

God's laws author order, holiness,

righteousness and peace

***

Like a love song from lips and lives

Like a tree bearing wholesome (holy) fruit

Like a fountain from which joy thrives

Through surrender’s stream-nourished root

May faithful, fervent worship spill

From hearts, ceaselessly awed by You

Because, oh God, we know Your will

Is ever trustworthy and true

Our times are in Your righteous hands

And in far higher thoughts and ways

Than human nature’s quick demands

That undermine repentant praise

You grant each day, mercy engraved

Then, bless the greatest name of all

The name whereby mankind is saved

From the curse wrought by Adam’s fall

Sinless and undefiled You bore

Sin’s pardon for all human race

Sin that is remembered no more

As we repent and receive grace

Then, as we believe in Your Word

To undergird, exhort and thrill

May, like a love song, undeterred

Obedient, true worship spill

© Janet Martin

Precious Prelude

Pondering the Precious today...

The sunshine sparked a bit of spring fever so,

down with winter decor 

and up with suggestions of spring!

A froth of fallen petals...

Tomorrow we are halfway through February!

A dash across the landscape

A splash upon the sea

A kiss of This soft-taking shape

And then eternity  

A mist upon yon meadow

As twist of scar-stitched shawls

Unravels the foreshadowing

'ere life’s last suture falls

Love's lilts of tears and laughter

Like quilts of grief and glee 

Hang from rafters where ever-after

Veils eternity 

A froth of fallen petals

A cloth of phantom tulle 

Enshrouds the dust that soon settles 

In the grave's solemn pull

A chattering of seasons

A smattering of stars

Before we behold life's reasons 

Only death's door unbars 

A war of mortal adieu

A score of days and then

Last breath, as Death transports us to

Eternity. Amen.

A very precious prelude

Lingers precariously

Upon the air not yet subdued

By vast eternity

Gate, noiselessly unbolted

Wait swallowed up in See

As each voice of Choice is jolted

Into eternity 

© Janet Martin