When All is Said and Done...

(The silhouette of that pine tree makes me chuckle; a lot like some people....bedraggled by battering of life-storms yet standing tall!)

What stirs The Want within our human plight?

And what, when all is said and done, is life?

This tug-of-war of night to morn to night

This balancing of despair and delight

Soon silvers raven tresses with its strife

While we like ants scurry from left to right

The Past is ever-cast; we learn to learn

From moment-matriarchs that fill the dust

For Time is like a monumental urn

Its ashes rest where no one can return

But we, ambassadors of present must

Consider what we place within its stern

When all is said and done, what will we do?

Life’s Laureate trembles within our reach

While hours run; the sun, a well-worn shoe

Jogs east to west then disappears from view

To rise again; for Time has much to teach

Before its final Want reveals its due

We stand attention at dawn’s beck-and-call

 A mystic Want drives us to comb its street

For more than pocket-loot or madrigal

To soothe our emptiness when shadows fall

When all is said and done, are we complete?

Or, did we dance only to miss it all?

When all is said and done, ah, then we will

Behold what this wee life is leading to

No trickery out-wits Death’s brooding chill

Of dust-to-dust as pleading pulses still

And carry us beyond Time’s begging blue

...it stirs The Want that only God can fill

© Janet Martin

As I stood gazing into the tumbled new-day skies I was trying to find my 'drive'; naming that stirring Want...
 "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.
Matt. 7:7

What will we seek today? and what will we find?

What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul? Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul?
 Matt. 16:26

He IS Lord. Period

(this photo was taken after two large wedges disappeared;) See recipe below

 I was pulling scones from the oven, listening to the message posted below, when four words stopped me in my tracks; He is Lord. Period.

Whether we acknowledge or deny

Ruler of earth and sea and sky

He IS Lord

Whether we believe and confess

Or reject His Righteousness

He IS Lord

Whether we live by His grace

Or defy Him to His face

He IS Lord

Whether we with faith agree

Or merely trust in what we see

He IS Lord

Whether we understand or don’t

Whether we submit or won’t

He IS Lord

He is Lord immutable

His Lordship irrefutable

He IS Lord

© Janet Martin

 But you, why do you judge your brother? Or you again, why do you regard your brother with contempt? For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God. For it is written, "AS I LIVE, SAYS THE LORD, EVERY KNEE SHALL BOW TO ME, AND EVERY TONGUE SHALL GIVE PRAISE TO GOD." So then each one of us will give an account of himself to God.

  Romans 14:10-12

   

Janet's Bran and Flax Scones

Mix: 2 cups all-purpose flour

3/4 cup baking bran

1/3 cup freshly-ground flax seed

4 tsp. baking powder

2 tbsp. sugar

1/2 tsp salt (optional)

Next,mix in 6 tbsp. softened butter til crumbly

Add 2 eggs

1/2 cup milk

1/2 cup rasins

Roll onto floured surface. Knead slightly and shape into 3/4 inch thick circle. Cut in wedges and bake in pre-heated oven at 375F for approx. 12 min.

Can be brushed with beaten egg before baking for a shiny top if preferred.

But If We Had No Silly Ways...

But if we had no silly ways

And we were all good and devout

Doing those things we know we should

…whatever would we talk about?

If no ill-fortune spilled its brush

No slip or stumble sought us out  

To keep us humble, as we blush

…whatever would we laugh about?

If we had everything we want

And didn’t need to do without

But every wish was fate’s command

What ever would we dream about?

...and if we had no rainy days

No disappointment-provoked pout

No wakened joys to prompt our praise 

Whatever would we sing about?

If we knew without being taught

And life’s unknowns were all poured out

And suffering, a foreign thought

Whatever would we pray about?

© Janet Martin

Yesterday we sisters and mom celebrated my oldest sister's 50th birthday with a tea-party at one of our houses. As 'Birthday-girl' posed for a photo I remarked 'still beautiful and slim'! Of course, this spawned a 'help, I'm getting fat'  conversation, one which our mother soundly scolded as she reminded us we are healthy and weight dare never be a god/idol or how are we to set an example for our young girls...!! (once a mother, always a mother;) She is right. None of us are over-weight but we live in an appearance-OBSESSED culture and the pressures to look a certain way are everywhere! As we chatted I realized if our lives were perfect we would have nothing to talk,laugh,dream,sing, pray about!

Of Life-happinesses and Heart-recesses

There’s a part of the heart where we keeps time’s postcards

Ever a measure of pleasure

But then, there’s a place deeper in love’s embrace

Where we store its sacred treasure

Life’s this-and-thats make for fine, friendly chats

‘Round evening’s dinner-table

We cannot keep one fair hour from sleep

The heart is a sweet, sacred gable

…for there we enfold moment-glitters of gold

Echoes of life-happinesses

Little girl-curls, boyish grins, laughter-swirls

Find their home in heart-recesses

We never can tell when love’s grieving farewell

Ushers from us what we’re seeing

While ever the heart in its uttermost part

Seals chapters into our being

© Janet Martin

Time's Touchdown

A quiet rush of ruby fills the air

Time’s touchdown spills in warbler-trills

We dare not linger where

We laid aside our busyness of care

To sleep and pray, for yesterday

Has no doorway from here to there

 The quick ability of tick-and-tock

Declares its might in dark to light

And petals on the walk

We change our plans; trust God for that and this

And none can force His hand, of course

We try; ah, foolishness

We have no choice; the frigate of an hour

Soon bears away both gold and gray

In muted moment-power

A quiet rush of ruby dissipates

The sun, like Heaven’s shepherdess climbs high

To pastures without gates

And we, its charge to keep cannot afford

To brood in chains for gilded strains

That yesterday has stored

© Janet Martin