Today Would Be Your Birthday...(or, Treasured Legacy)

Today's poem-a-day prompt from Robert Lee Brewer.

For today's prompt, write a living poem.

Today and every day  is our

lifelong legacy in the making!

Let's make it treasure-able💝

This poem is about a Treasured Legacy I inherited

simply by being her granddaughter!!

Both of my gramma's birthdays were in April,

one on the 3rd, and one on the 13th!

(I hope a kind cousin or sibling corrects me if I got the dates confused...)

Today would be your birthday...

Caught by surprise...

I think if we would line up the stitches she sewed in her lifetime

they would reach to heaven and back

So many quilts and comforters for family and charity.

After her family was grown, so much mending

for her daughters and daughter-in-laws!

Her hands, when she was feeling well, were never idle!

My last 'family picture' of my grandparents.

She cared for our 'special Aunt' until she was no longer able

Then Special Aunt was welcomed into the homes of her siblings.

Today, would be your birthday

Dear Gramma, your legacy

Is the most treasured hand-me-down

That you have left for me

Life wasn’t always easy

Yet, your faithful un-complaint

Often made me wonder if you

Were a gram-disguised saint

Humble, frugal and generous

You treasured each grandchild (all forty-something of us!!)

And always made each one of us

Feel special when you smiled

Your sparkling eyes and helping hands

And wisdom-seasoned speech

Instilled within your precious ‘grands’

Sound truths for us to teach

Where now by time’s fleet sleight of hand

I am a gramma too

Trying to emulate the love-

-liness I learned from you

Trying to hand down memories

That, by God’s grace will be

In the heart of every grandchild

A treasured legacy

© Janet Martin

A few more Gramma mementos...

Like Old Postcards

Waste Not, Want Not

Waste not, want not

She said

as she shook the crumbs

from the bottom of a bread bag

for the birds

or her next casserole

placing the bag in a drawer for re-use

as she brought someone a freshly baked treat

Waste not, want not

She said

as she saved the yarn ends

to hang in trees

so the birds can have some color

in their nests too

Waste not, want not…

and rags were cut into strips

sewn together

and braided for mats (see picture above)

fabric scraps became comforters and quilts

for the needy

…or here and there perhaps a stuffed toy

Pie dough left-overs were scraped

from the counter-top and

put in a dish in the fridge

for next time

and seeds were collected from her garden

for next year

and empty spools were saved

for crafts and creations (see pictures above)

and she would tell me of their wedding

during the depression years

and how they had to choose

between either turnips or potatoes

for their meal

and how her aunt took a cherished vase

out of her china cupboard

and gave it to her

as a wedding gift

because there was no money

and then she would often repeat

‘He who does not value a penny

does not deserve a dollar’

She never heard

Reduce, reuse, and recycle

But she reminded me constantly

That no generation is immune

To hard times or want

As the root cellar was filled with

Preserves from her garden

I am glad to have known

This part of her

As I attempt to pass some of Grandma on

To the next generation

In waste not, want not

© Janet Martin

I am privileged to be living  in the house 

that belonged to one of the most beautiful people I ever knew;

 my Grandma.

And then, a new song uploaded today by two artists I LOVE,

fitting perfectly with today's prompt

Cycle  of Life

Perfect Satisfaction (because we all seek to be satisfied)

Every life is a testament, not only

of how much God loves us,

but of how much we love Him!

Photo:  Yesterday's Bake-Apple Crumble Tarts and Scottish Coconut and Jam Tarts

Today's bake (plan): Butter tarts!

I am currently working at a 'tart buffet' as part of a meal

next Wednesday evening 

for all our youth, junior youth and kid's zone ministry leaders at church; approx. 50!

Isn't it a wonderful blessing to be able to serve those who serve others

with a delicious 'encouragement/appreciation' meal once a month?!

BTW!! this was not my initial reaction of 'love'! (insert blush)

My first thought, I am ashamed to say was 'why? all this work/fuss etc.

 when they could all grab a bite before their meeting?!!

It would be SO much easier...

There are so many things faulty with the above attitude😓

hence, the need for confession.

Then to top it off,  I was thoroughly convicted by a conversation from/with

 an ancient Brother Lawrence from the 1600's!

I ordered this little book to tag on a few dollars 

so I would qualify for free shipping!

I am only on the second conversation and have been utterly

encouraged and convicted/corrected in my often carnal tendencies...

We all seek to be satisfied

The world, a big buffet

Of tempting fruit cajoling pride

With ‘did God really say?’

So much to see and touch and taste

What vast fields Choice deploys

Soon yielding either worth or waste

In Want’s pursuit of joys

What fickle ventures we afford

What futile wish and whim

We chase, until we love the Lord

And yield our hearts/lives to Him

Then, come what may, bitter or sweet

When love for God prevails

We find a life of joy complete

Because love never fails

We all seek to be satisfied

God’s grace, a grand buffet

Of hope the world cannot provide

Or ever take away

The more we love the Lord, the less

We want of lesser things

As we embrace/enjoy the happiness

Only loving God brings

© Janet Martin

1 Thessalonians 3:12
And may the Lord cause you to increase and overflow

 with love for one another and for everyone else, 

just as our love for you overflows,

Philippians 1:9
And this is my prayer: 

that your love may abound more and more

 in knowledge and depth of insight,

Last night as our youngest daughter's little

'blue bug' puttered away I prayed a special blessing on her and all the

fellow-workers who serve/minister to our precious youth!

2 Thessalonians 1:3

We are obligated to thank God for you all the time,

 brothers, as is fitting, because your faith is growing more and more, 

and your love for one another is increasing.

1 Thessalonians 4:1
Finally, brothers, we ask and encourage you in the Lord Jesus 

to live in a way that is pleasing to God,

 just as you have received from us. 

This is how you already live, 

so you should do so all the more.

On Living In The Moment

Look! morning’s epic entrance thunders with moments we’ve never met...

Because God is without beginning or end,

there will be no end to goodness!

Sometimes I am guilty of forgetting this,

 falling prey to doleful dread, 

believing the good days are over for good 

rather than finding the good in each day,

and thanking God for it by honoring Him with it

 in every way I can!

Ps.31:19 

(click reference link to read the whole glorious Psalm)

How great is Your goodness

which You have laid up for those who fear You,

which You have bestowed before the sons of men

on those who take refuge in You!

I do not want to stare too long at sanguine scenes in Bygone’s glade

Nor covet echoes of a song, much softer now than when first played

Lord, give me ears to hear What Is before its music disappears

Open my eyes so I don’t miss the font that soon fills yesteryears

Beneath the hand of Time harsh sorrows and raw edges smooth, it seems

Washed by a tide, primed with tomorrows, rolling through a world of dreams

Darling, ere you and I awaken on the other side of This

Let’s be sweetly and humbly taken by the melody that is

For, far too soon Bygone’s infinite isle will claim tunes turned to mist

So, let’s not waste one precious minute while today's lyrics untwist  

Look! morning’s epic entrance thunders with moments we’ve never met

Oh, let’s not grow too old to wonder at mercies not tasted yet

© Janet Martin

Oh, let’s not grow too old to wonder at mercies not tasted yet...

Dawn's eyelids were heavy with snow-shadows!

It's been a while since Old Man Winter

 lugged out his white-wash bucket and tipped it over the earth...

I almost have First Snowfall thrills!

Goodness of God

Of This...

 

If I should dare to wander where the feet of angels fear to tread

And yield to worlds that want unfurls with abandon inside my head

Then, linger where fools stand and stare at faded font of yesterday

Ah! I might miss the bloom of this before its petals drift away

If I with skilled desire should build a bridge that only thought can cross

And boldly woo a rendezvous with what will never be or was

Then vainly pause a bit because pleasure and pain must have its dance

Ah! I might miss the thrill of this, while lost in Fantasy’s romance

If I should long for some lost song because of how it made me feel

Ah! I might miss the hymn of This, where original anthems peal

To interweave with what I grieve bequeathed at birth to dusk-wreathed death

To softly kiss the joy of This as it unravels breath by breath

If I should scorn the brimming morn while hungering for what is not

And feast my eyes upon a prize contrived by idle hands of thought

Ah! I might waste the pleasing taste of sweet, sweet berries on my spoon

And I might miss the bliss of This; a glorious summer afternoon

© Janet Martin

Minding/Counting our 'Much-es' (or Much to Make the Most Of)

(I think Grandsonny might be thinking

'h-m-m! Shoulda waited a little longer 

for these to come out of the oven before biting a muffin...'🤣

Of course he tasted these later for lunch dessert!)

So much to be thankful for...

in the midst of so much to be careful for...

(first attempt at making soft tortillas!) 

they were yummy!

in the midst of so much to be prayerful for!!

***

Luke 12:48

 For everyone to whom much is given, 

from him much will be required; 

The reveille of the morning sun rouses mortal to Much

Much task and obligation run like rivers through our touch

Much beauty to behold freely surprises us with joy

And cheers us on where much duty deals a tireless employ

Much care to kindle prayer from a much-too-forgetful race

And where much sin and sorrow bear fruit, praise God, much more grace

Much sacred consequence as innocence sheds fledgling gauze

Where soon evidence manifests much effect from much cause

Where much we once thought hidden is much too plain to deny

Much long aftermath bidden from much-too-hasty reply

Where oh, so much temptation taunts gifted students of Want

With so much education, not found in ink-scripted font

Much may seem commonplace until it slips beyond our reach

As much Unknown to face unveils much left to learn and teach

Where Much is a mean Charmer without a much Higher Call

Than much dream stripped of glamor lost to Bygone’s shadow-hall

Where, though so much is taken much remains to make much of

Much wonder to be wakened and shaken from much to love

Much to challenge, test and estrange much once we thought we knew

Where though so much is bound to change, the Truth is always true

And much we make such fuss about soon fills yesterday’s shoes/news

While much of what we trust or doubt will anchor or confuse

Where much abounds to make us glad and sad, and weak and strong

And much will drive us mad and much will spill in worship’s song

So much dismay to humble much that would turn into pride

So much to make us stumble over much not Self-denied 

Where much of what we touch and taste is much more than we need

Oh God, so much of what we waste could shelter, clothe and feed

Where Much is like a Fount that brims with Much to share and give

And much to give account for, where Much fills each day we live 

Much trouble to perplex where much more mercy intercedes

Much to allure and vex the troubadour where Order pleads

Much delight to discover on detours to Destiny

Much to excite the Lover of nature’s pure poetry

Where Much To Make the Most Of is life’s common ground, my friend

From He who loves us so much more than we can comprehend

© Janet Martin

Luke 16:10

“One who is faithful in a very little is also faithful in much,

and one who is dishonest in a very little

is also dishonest in much.

Much beauty to behold freely surprises us with joy...

Exquisite Things

Nobody else can offer my worship to the Giver of every good and perfect gift from above!

 

So, though often my poems are but bumbling responses 

to something written by master wordsmiths,

(The phrase 'exquisite things' snagged on my soul

 and stirred the first trembling of this poem!)

...my defense is simply that, at the end of the day, 

only I am responsible for my worship; 

only you can offer yours, by whatever gift or talent you have been given!

 Only I can offer my thanksgiving hymn. 

No one else can sing it for me, nor I for you!

But we can sing together!!

Let's take today and make it a joyful noise/shout to the Lord, shall we?!!

Psalm 100

1{A Psalm of praise.} 

Make a joyful noise unto the LORD, all ye lands.

2Serve the LORD with gladness:

 come before his presence with singing.

3Know ye that the LORD he is God:

 it is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves;

 we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.

4Enter into his gates with thanksgiving,

 and into his courts with praise: 

be thankful unto him, and bless his name.

5For the LORD is good; his mercy is everlasting; 

and his truth endureth to all generations.

Though the noise of joy's employs/voices may vary, 

when offered in thankfulness it is always in perfect harmony

to God's ears!

(yes, even messes!😅💖😏)

Today, rife with exquisite things bids us delight; each morning brings

Fresh measures of pleasure’s surprise when we view life through thankful eyes

And recognize joy’s sterling thrills unfurling like treasure that spills

From mercy’s generosity to humble likes of you and me

…to cheer the years to growing old with so much beauty to behold

And so much wonder to arouse worship’s reply of breathless ‘wows’

Where nothing seems quite commonplace as we esteem the Giver’s grace

We often overlook and waste or trample beneath futile haste

I want that I should taste anew the darling dance of me-and-you

To gaze at God’s extravagance in ways that woo no thought but thanks

For heaven-glimpses here below, like feathers of fresh-fallen snow

For burgeoning where budded molds hold beginnings that spring unfolds

Today, rife with life’s high and low brims with hymns we would better know

If we would cease to hurry so like mad beasts charging to and fro

But pause to let awe’s ocean roll in holy thunder through the soul

Agog with wealth awareness wrings from vaults filled with exquisite things

© Janet Martin

Like Velvet Tulle

Below is a paragraph from the study page for the leaders

of last Sunday's Sunday School lesson...

sound encouragement/wisdom to live by

as we dwell on the theme of faithfulness!

'We can’t undo the past, but we can be decisively committed to the next step, 

the next moment, and the next opportunity.

What if you committed to faithfulness one day at a time?

 And what if your faithfulness marked the people around you in significant ways? 

Then I would imagine that your faithfulness 

will lead to future opportunities for greater influence.

Don’t waste today.

Be faithful to your purpose 

to live as the salt of the earth 

and the light of the world.

And God will use you today and, Lord willing, 

multiply your efforts and opportunities tomorrow.' -The Gospel Project

Since last Thursday our area is an ice-and-snow castle!!

Like velvet tulle the crepuscule of night dissolves; it falls

Like paper from a gift that lifts the darkness from earth’s halls

Like whispers of mercy and love brushing shadows awry

Like a fresh sheet beneath our feet that reaches to the sky

Like smiles across the miles that toss barges of want and need

Like little boats or music notes that bob and press and plead

Like melodies in symphonies where seasons rise and fall

Like music bars or shooting stars or like a madrigal

To fill that cast of Almost Past with what none should ignore

Today; the place where by God’s grace it spills from shore to shore

To set the stage, where age to age the fruit of choice becomes

At that last breath the life and death of very sacred sums

When, like soft tulle the crepuscule of time and grace will fade

Like mist upon the Sealed Bygone of choices we have made

© Janet Martin

Psalm 51:15-17

O Lord, open my lips,
And my mouth shall show forth Your praise.
16For You do not desire sacrifice, or else I would give it;
You do not delight in burnt offering.
17The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit,
A broken and a contrite heart—
These, O God, You will not despise.

On Conquering Futility

If we as gardeners only focus on what isn't growing or blooming

the way we had hoped or planned for,

we would miss what is!

So too in the garden of Life!

It's been years since I've grown snow-on-the-mountain flowers

and it's the first time for larkspur, 

(which could be why I am sharing SO many larkspur-shots)😅

 thanks to some seeds given to me

last Christmas from one of my gardener-friends.

I am delighting in their splendor! 

however, I thought the larkspur would be taller than the snow-on-the-mountain 

so the tiered flower-garden isn't quite what I had pictured,

but we enjoy what grew rather than what didn't...

like the straw-flower seeds I planted behind the marigold.

This sunflower below, as it grew larger began to obstruct the passage and the view in the arbor...

so I snipped it off for a centerpiece!

Here's to each of us to making the most of Today's 'garden'.!

Futile to wallow in regret

That no thought can undo

Better to focus on the Yet

Now runs its fingers through

Futile to pine for what once was

Leave Bygone on its shelf

And focus on what Is because

No day repeats itself

Futile to wish for what is not

With longing and lament

Better to give the best we’ve got

Before Today is spent

Futile to waste away in want

Better to kneel in prayer

And ask God to vanquish the taunt

Of defeat and despair

Futile to bear yesterday’s loss

Or surf Past’s frozen tide

Better to take up today’s cross

And trust God to provide

© Janet Martin

“‎"The best of men are just men at best.― Alistair Begg

Jesus-Always, Only

From Gentle Hands

This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it."

Psalm 118:24

This is the day the Lord has made

A gift we dare not waste

Wrapped in blush tulle then gently laid

Beneath our touch and taste

Sometimes the highs and lows of love

Can cause us to mistreat

The Gentle Hands that tip Time’s trove

With treasure, bittersweet

To track-records of sad disgrace

He does not yet repay

Nor does He turn away his face

But grants another day

Where miracles are sometimes veiled

In merits, hard to see

And prayers that look as if they’ve failed

Are answered faithfully

Where what we want may not agree

With the needs He supplies

Goodness and mercy’s Mystery

Finesse faith’s hard-fought Prize

This is the day God helps us bear

A gift of thorn and rose

Then pray we trust Him with whate’er

His gentle Hand bestows

...and may we in return reply

Not with selfish demands

But open up our bit of sky

With kind and gentle hands

© Janet Martin

Pass Me Not Oh, Gentle Saviour

Oh, Gentle Shepherd

Take My Hand and Lead Me

My God, Where Shall I Wend My Flight

For Fishermen of Line and Pen

Then He said to them, “Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men.”

Matt.4:19

The lake we were at a few weeks ago

was dotted with fishing-boats for hours at a time

from first light till dark...

As they trolled for fish I watched from the dock with pen in hand 

and it dawned on me that writing and fishing have a lot in common; 

both require learning patience as we troll the deeps...

This sea gull had a better luck than a few of the fishermen I chatted with...

Time is a little like a pond teeming with want and wish

We, perched on banks of Great Beyond are learning how to fish

The hooks we bait then cast into the deep end of today

Require learning how to wait while we work, watch and pray

Sometimes we get impatient and we start to fret and fuss

Forgetting He who made us often has to wait for us

While we waste ‘bait’ He granted and intended for our good

Because we didn’t have the faith to trust Him like we should

The fish of conquered fears can be as slippery as an eel

And often disappears into a fog of faded zeal

As we dream of The Big One and bait and rebait the hook

Fixated on a vision of just how this fish will look

Lord, make us patient as we troll but never feel a pull

A fisherman tuned to the goal in spite of dreary lull

To bide the placid guise, not disillusioned by desires

But, recognize The Prize is worth the wait ‘fishing’ requires

…until you draw to shore the barge that sailed the seas of Time

Help us be faithful to the charge of hook and bit ‘o line/rhyme

And as you help us from the dinghy, pray you grant this wish

An offering fit for a King; a little string of fish

© Janet Martin

a few more early morning 'passengers'

Mink, I think...

Canada Geese

Dragon Fly