Grace...God's Gift on that First Christmas Day

By grace are we saved, through faith

Not what we do or say

God’s grace, a gift He sent to us

On that first Christmas Day

On that first Christmas Day

The skies were filled with praise

‘Behold, I bring you tidings of

Great joy; Jesus, God’s grace’

Jesus, God’s gift of grace

Is still the same today

To all who will trust and believe

He saves; oh, praise his name

He saves; oh, praise His name

Not what we do or say

But by the grace of mercy’s gift

On that first Christmas Day

© Janet Martin

In True Humility...

Then let our light so shine

So that all men may see

And glorify the God of love

In true humility

Then let our motive be

In everything we do

To let love’s true humility

Shine through and through and through

For all that we might be

‘tis only be God’s grace

That we find true humility

And thereby glimpse his face

The utterance of ‘I’

Is oft selfish and weak

But if we would let God’s love shine

Then we must ever seek

…with true humility

From gracious God above

The will to find the way to shine

His everlasting love

© Janet Martin

Inspired by the poem below by Emily Dickinson...

Part Three: Love

VIII

THAT I did always love,
I bring thee proof:
That till I loved
I did not love enough.
That I shall love alway,	5
I offer thee
That love is life,
And life hath immortality.
This, dost thou doubt, sweet?
Then have I	10
Nothing to show
But Calvary.

When It Rains...

  

It rained, little guy slept long, I wrapped gifts, did housework and watched/listened to this movie...so good!

When it rains its gray tinsel unchains

Rivers of rushing refrain

Stripped treetops lie, not against the sky

But in puddles on the lane

Its madrigal weeps from echo-laden deeps

And rouses soul-poetry

For the pen is a Muse filled with yesterday’s blues

Stirred by the air’s broken sea

When it rains thought roves a terrain

That nobody else can see

It opens a door through which mind-pictures pour

Painted on memory

And there on its street pool thought-years bittersweet

Drenching both faces and sod

Rending the heart with love’s mosaic art

Spilling in patterns from God

When it rains earth accepts heaven’s strains

As if they were azure –gold hymns

The trees on the lane never balk or complain

But stretch wide their four-season limbs

Embracing the song as it drips, low and long

Oh, could it be that they know

when this song dies and slips soft from the skies

The sun will be sweeter somehow?

© Janet Martin

'they' are forecasting gray songs until at least Friday...

This Christmas...

May these carols we sing

and the songs that we hum

simply be worship's 

continuum

Janet~

Upon Time's Season-seasoned Hills...

Upon Time’s season-seasoned hills and plains nothing is new

Yet we see newness rise to light the skies when night is through

And we see bud and bloom relent where bent limb is soft-stripped

before spring-newness stirs again where autumn-tatters dripped

Oh, there is nothing new under Time’s sun, the prophet told

And though discovery may stun even this new is old

For man will ever fit The Plan ordained before time was

His season-seasoned knowledge subjected to higher laws

Time’s teeny tick and tock unlocks newness in ancient form

Its ethereal allotment can take seasoned hearts by storm

And even as dusk’s shadows fall we dare to dream anew

Both young and old, of morrow’s open-minded avenue

Like generations gone before, we gaze with widened eyes

Astonished at the new ways that the old can still surprise

As we learn for ourselves how swift a lifetime can unfold

…upon time’s season-seasoned sweep of new swaddled in old

© Janet Martin

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
    his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.

Lam. 3:22-23

Of Paths and Purpose

 

May this our hunger be

As earth-wrought paths we trod

Not wealth or health or luxury

But this; the love of God

May this our purpose be

As plains and hills we plod

Not fame or fortune’s vanity

But this; to live for God

May this our vision fill

Time's sprint twixt sky and sod

Leads not to dust-ash pinnacles

But is the road to God

May this our solace be

…not of vain, carnal fraud

But fully trusting, knowing we

Will soon be home with God

© Janet Martin

 But as for you, be strong and do not give up, for your work will be rewarded."  

2 Chron. 15:7