March Morning Celebration Meditation

Happy, Happy March!

(because I didn't get this poem posted this morning as originally planned

I could include a bonus dusk shot as well!)

"it looks like its one of those pray-for-strength days once again',

I remarked to my daughter this morning, as she told me about her 

lack-of-sleep night because of sick children...

(don't you find most days are better if we draw from a

wellspring of strength beyond our own?)

Dawn... 

Dusk...

Like a black cushion, full of pins

The night sky fades; the earth

Reappears where new day begins

Its waltz of woe and mirth

Across creation’s stomping ground

(In full color, no less)

Hope and strength for today are found

In God’s kind promises

He hears our prayers, He knows our need

No matter what we face

No care we bear can e’er exceed

The measure of His grace

Thus, though we cannot see what lies

Beyond a moment’s sum

It is enough to realize

Where our help comes from

...the Maker of Heaven and earth

Watches o'er you and me

His mercy stokes night's death with birth

Dawn is a bird set free 

© Janet Marin

Psalm 121

A song of ascents.

1 I lift up my eyes to the mountains—

where does my help come from?

2 My help comes from the Lord,

the Maker of heaven and earth.

3 He will not let your foot slip—

he who watches over you will not slumber;

4 indeed, he who watches over Israel

will neither slumber nor sleep.

5 The Lord watches over you—

the Lord is your shade at your right hand;

6 the sun will not harm you by day,

nor the moon by night.

7 The Lord will keep you from all harm—

he will watch over your life;

8 the Lord will watch over your coming and going

both now and forevermore.

February/Winter Flowers

I picked the flower puzzle to do (see quandary here) 

because there's just something about flowers

in winter that can't be beat!!

even the pieces look like a handful of petals tossed on a garden path!

So, let's celebrate the last day of February with winter flowers

even if they are painted on cardboard💖😊

They kindle wild dream-pleasure for gardens not planted yet

They gleam with priceless treasure of fond memories to be

They rouse a youthful yearning in the appetites they whet

For perfumed pinks and purples heady with sweet nectar-tea

And like children with rosy faces, kissed by brisk wind-chill

They bloom a little rosier on winter’s windowsill

They delight hearts with visions of a sunny summer’s day

Where butterflies and laughter flit and flirt with honey bee

They make indoors feel friendlier while winter whiles away

As we stroll perfect gardens in a plot of fantasy

A welcome splash of color on a dolor afternoon

They garnish kitchen tables with a glint of May or June

They cheer us with old fashioned charm and make us humbly glad

To be alive where flowers wait to burst the bud with bloom

As blush and gold menageries drive poets gently mad

With so much beauty to behold from Mother Nature’s loom

Primed with a plethora of plumes no tombs can keep at bay 

Unfolding outdoor living rooms still snuggly tucked away

© Janet Martin

Speaking of outdoor living rooms

I would love to try this come spring!

Baking Lavash Bread on Stone Grill

From Country Life Vlog

 

Of Best Laid Plan

One thing we learn over and over is

no matter how important planning is,

and no matter how meticulously each detail is addressed,

or each prospect visualized,

plans, at best, are extremely volatile!

The 'best laid plan' therefore, with humble 'Thy will be done'

should always be entrusted to the Higher Hand

who orchestrates Purpose far beyond the frames we peer through

to hopes and dreams not accomplished yet!

With all the unexpected snow days this winter it seems like possibly

 I am being conditioned for the childcare break coming up.

...or, at least that is the plan😅🙏

Sometimes it feels like life is simply a constant sequence

 of changed plans/ misplaced puzzle pieces!

I'm trying to decide if today is the day 

I commit to starting a puzzle and if so, which one?!

Plans are like phantom pieces to a puzzle thought perceives

Of panoramic vistas wafting on volatile breeze

Where soon, even a child begins to learn the simple fact

How plans at best, are pictures that we cannot keep intact

No matter how meticulously we try to arrange

The pieces to fit perfectly; still, often plans will change

Teaching us to be patient as we reconcile the art

Of relinquishing pictures that change-of-plans pulls apart

How often heart shaped tatters scatter where no one can see

Save we who bear the brunt of Planning’s altered scenery

How often, as we grapple with the pictures we release

We are reminded of the Hand beneath each puzzle piece

© Janet Martin

James 4:13-15

Now listen, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.” 14Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. 15Instead, you ought to say, “If it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that.”

In Winter's Storm (there is no place like home)

 Nothing like a winter storm to rekindle thankfulness for home!

Here winks the lure of friendly fireside

Cheering the labor’r toward eventide

Here, with loved ones to gather and to sup

Fruit of love’s labor filling plate and cup

Here the tea kettle, while centuries wing

Pours fresh-steeped comfort for pauper and king

Here, like a haven while wild wind-beasts brawl

Home in winter’s storm, is sweetest of all

Here wish-lists dwindle, snuggly satisfied

With hugs and slippers, while the countryside

Is tossed, lost in white brumal gusting swell

As Old Man Winter pummels hill and dell

…and we, borne on parchment catamaran

Sail into ancient worlds and back again

Where no matter how fair the climes we roam

Nothing compares to winter’s home-sweet-home

Here happiness is like a warm handshake

A steaming ‘cup o’ and a bite o’ cake

Here hobbies are like mini getaways

Here mother sometimes pauses work and plays

Here we have nowhere else we’d rather be

Than watching birds flit from feeder to tree

And wrangling thankfulness into a poem

As we thank God for winter’s home, sweet home

Here beckons the gold halo of lamplight

Here little tots are tucked in extra tight

And all is quiet save the howling gale

That overflows contentment’s hallowed grail

That crackles and pops as flame-dancers leap

And book soft-plops as reader falls asleep

Lulled by the lays that rake the leafless loam

While kindling thankful praise for home, sweet home

© Janet Martin

School/Leap of Faith- A Sonnet

As we were leaving on Sat. for our annual weekend in TO I realized

the pink eye I was trying to ignore was suddenly getting much worse.

We stopped to pick up a prescription because all the over-the-counter meds were sold out!

(bit of a pink eye epidemic on in our area)

To top it off, a mild sore throat escalated into wild discomfort.

By Sat. night the long anticipated dinner, (and remainder of the weekend)

was more endured than enjoyed!

While I know this is small on the grand scale of troubles

it was/is still super disappointing!

But on we go...

with so much still to be thankful for!

1 Thess.5:18

give thanks in all circumstances;

 for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.

I didn't get any photos this weekend except a few at 

Krispy Kreme donuts on the way home...

There's a good parable in watching the process of a donut being made.

A glob of sticky dough, mixed, pressed and fried before the

final, delectable sweet-treat finish!

So, speaking in donut terms, sometimes

 when we're in the gob-of-sticky-dough stage

 or the pressing and frying stage

it might be easy to forget

 there's a 'sweet-treat' finish!

To roam among grave stones of seasons spent

Is but to squander what soon wastes away

To wander in deserts of discontent

Is but to miss the treasure of Today

To mourn for what we cannot change is vain

Distracting us from present precious sands

To dread the unknown is a futile pain

Better to pray and leave it in God’s hands

His grace, always sufficient for life’s lot

His mercy new each morning, praise His name

His love transcends the scope of mortal thought

His promises are free for all to claim

His goodness greater than affliction’s lathe 

His peace, perfected in each leap of faith

© Janet Martin

Jim needed to leave for work when we got home!

I snuggled on the couch and listened to an extremely uplifting message 

from David Jeremiah about faith.

I couldn't find the exact one on YouTube, 

but below is a link to another gem of a message filled with invaluable reminders.

It starts in with this...

From David Jeremiah-The School of Faith

"One of the sobering thoughts about the Christian life is the truth that God is far more interested in who we become and what we are than in what we do. He cares a whole lot more about how we live than about what we accomplish. His purpose is to build Christians, not cathedrals. His focus is on people, not programs, and for this reason, when God is working in the life of a person, he often allows unexplainable events to prepare and perfect those that he is getting ready to serve him in a much bigger way in the kingdom. The New Testament says this: "Whom the Lord loves He chastens, and scourges every son whom He receives". Often when difficult things happen in our lives, it's not the evidence of something that is wrong, but proof that something is right."

***

Life aka, 

The School of faith

is filled with highs and lows,

 joys and woes,

 in all shapes and sizes

thorns and rose-

coloured surprises

Everything comes, 

then it goes.

What yet waits

Only God knows...

But,

Whether we are enjoying the flower

or being pricked by its stem

God is faithful.

Forever

Amen 

Donuts remind me of a song from days gone by when

our children were little...

Life Without Jesus is Like a Donut

What Comfort in the Knowing

"They're really nice tomatoes, I admitted as I gaped at my garden in bafflement!

But I have never had tomatoes this early. It's spring and I just planted them!

I am just not prepared to can/preserve tomatoes yet!"

This was my dream this morning just before I woke up completely

😂😂😂

Suddenly I have refreshed appreciation and gratitude for 

the law and order of times and seasons!

No matter how eagerly we await spring,

imagine of we woke up this morning and our lawns needed mowing

(that was also part of my dream; as I looked around

I realized our lawn looked like a field!!

and I wondered how I missed it?!) 

What if we woke up, a child once more?!

Gen.8:22

“As long as the earth endures, 

seedtime and harvest, 

cold and heat, 

summer and winter, 

day and night will never cease.”

...none can withhold morning from the awning of daybreak

(it's been so long since we've had a sunrise that the place I was watching for the sun

to break over the horizon had shifted WAY over from the last time I saw it!)

I gasped as I gazed at the cross formation! Spectacular!

Here's to a Friday full of thankfulness

I’m thankful for the sequence of season-circuits and such

For nature’s law and order not swayed by impulsive touch

What comfort in the knowing that spring waits in winter’s wake

And none can withhold morning from the awning of daybreak

Or trick the bud that cradles flowers waiting to unfold

With rutabaga rather than petals of red or gold

And that the measure of a life moves forward tick by tock

And doesn’t trick us with high noon instead of five o clock

…that babies are born innocent, no matter where or who

And God’s goodness and mercy are not but for favored few

The earth and its fulness thereof and all who dwell therein

Belong to He whose name is love and saves us from our sin

I’m thankful, that midst so much unpredictability

So much, since the beginning is like it always will be

Regardless of the atheist’s emboldened disregard

No one can gloat or boast because of nights, quadrillion-starred

I’m thankful that we are not being constantly perplexed

By midweek weekends or never knowing which day is next

And everyone grows old and gray at threescore years or four

Rather than some who are returned to childhood’s grind/grant once more

I’m thankful that no matter what may change much stays the same

That we don’t wake to face a wild and cruel guessing game

But take comfort in knowing He who ordained nature’s ways

Of times and seasons keeps His Word until the end of days

What comfort in the knowing that for all who have believed

Heaven is worth the waiting for, beyond all we have grieved

That time and all its trouble is but like a bubble's scope

When compared to eternity with He who anchors hope

...and comforts those who mourn with promises to which we cling

Certain of their fulfillment as we are, waiting for spring

While giving thanks to He from whom all changeless order flows

In unerring precision and the comfort it bestows 

© Janet Martin

Or trick the bud that cradles flowers waiting to unfold

With rutabaga rather than petals of red or gold

Of Abounding (Confounding) Luxuries

I used to equate the word luxury with the things money can buy!

As I grow older, more and more I realize that the true 'luxuries' of life/love

are so often overlooked, having nothing to do with plump pillows, fine wine,

tropical climes, etc.!!!

There's nothing like the trouble and sorrows of this world to open our eyes

to take notice of beauties/luxuries we might otherwise never give thanks for!

The luxury of laughter spills like sparkling silver stars

While innocence of tots teaches their teachers how to trust

The morning rolls unsullied over still hushed, blue-brushed bars

Laden with fresh reminders of life’s numbered days of dust

Ah, precious little nose to wipe and chubby cheek to kiss

Ah, joy, full of surprises to cheer us midst constant cares

Ah, means to make amends when hasty judgement flies amiss

Ah, God’s Word-wellspring never drained of faith’s bedrock for prayers

…as courage counts hope’s blessings where sorrow and sickness groans

Where so much more than we deserve comforts our creature cry

With promises made possible because God’s grace atones

And suddenly we do not need to know the reasons why

…as we advance across the threshold of what waits to be

Tuned to time’s tender treasure in moment-measure unfurled

Extravagantly lavished with the priceless luxury

Of words like ‘we’ and ‘us;’ surely the dearest in the world

God, let us not be guilty of sight-blind indifference

While beauty’s coffers overflow with fleeting season-lease

Forbid that we should live, embittered by the dissonance

With ears, deaf to the music of Life’s Sacred Masterpiece

God, tilt our visage upward beyond what thought understands

Where learning to be humbly grateful draws us to our knees

And makes us meekly more aware of what still fills our hands

Brimming, if we take notice, with abounding (confounding) luxuries

© Janet Martin

Watching Janet feed the birdies...

Psalm 40:5
Many, O LORD my God, are the wonders You have done,

 and the plans You have for us--

none can compare to You--

if I proclaim and declare them, 

they are more than I can count.

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