A Gift From God

I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.

Luke 15:7

Heaven's joy-bells must be clanging overtime these days...
Again yesterday we attended a baptism-service; this time our niece and some of her friends! 
I was struck anew by how, with all the differences that may be visible on the outside 
due to culture, denominations, etc 

The Invisible is the same; the only name whereby we can be saved; 
(Salvation is found in no one else, 

for there is no other name under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved."

Acts 4:12)

Everyone baptized in every service we have attended 
in four different settings over the past few months were baptized in
the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit; 

(Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit

Matt.28:19)

so what is Baptism? A visible declaration of an invisible transformation when we
repent and obey the command to then be baptized!
(Peter replied, "Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.
Acts 2:38)

What a gift! The power within us to fight temptation and run this race with perseverance!

Now sin no longer reigns

Where grace, not law is Chief

And faith in Jesus breaks the chains

That binds blind unbelief

Not visibly transformed

Yet oh, somewhere within

Mercy’s miracle is performed

Redeemed from curse of sin

Now the Old Man is dead

And buried in the Past

The New Man rises in his stead

And holds Faith’s promise fast

Where we no longer sin

So that grace may abound

But trust the blood that makes us clean

Where Time is Holy Ground

And grace not some cliché

Tossed lightly to and fro

But grace alone atones for aye

And washes white as snow

Through grace no one can boast

Or mortal works applaud

But glorify Hope’s Uttermost

Grace is a gift from God

© Janet Martin

  For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—
and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—   
not by works, so that no one can boast.

Eph.2:8-9

 The above version of this hymn written by William Cowper (pub.1772) 

skips a few gorgeous stanzas...

1. There is a fountain filled with blood,
   Drawn from Immanuel’s veins,
   And sinners plunged beneath that flood
   Lose all their guilty stains:
   Lose all their guilty stains,
   Lose all their guilty stains;
   And sinners plunged beneath that flood
   Lose all their guilty stains.
2. The dying thief rejoiced to see
   That fountain in His day;
   And there have I, though vile as he,
   Washed all my sins away:
   Washed all my sins away,
   Washed all my sins away;
   And there have I, though vile as he,
   Washed all my sins away.
3. Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood
   Shall never lose its pow’r,
   Till all the ransomed church of God
   Are safe, to sin no more:
   Are safe, to sin no more,
   Are safe, to sin no more;
   Till all the ransomed church of God
   Are safe, to sin no more.
4. E’er since by faith I saw the stream
   Thy flowing wounds supply,
   Redeeming love has been my theme,
   And shall be till I die:
   And shall be till I die,
   And shall be till I die;
   Redeeming love has been my theme,
   And shall be till I die.
5. When this poor, lisping, stamm’ring tongue
   Lies silent in the grave,
   Then in a nobler, sweeter song,
   I’ll sing Thy pow’r to save:
   I’ll sing Thy pow’r to save,
   I’ll sing Thy pow’r to save;
   Then in a nobler, sweeter song,
   I’ll sing Thy pow’r to save.

Nobody Said It's Easy

Love authors life's greatest joy

And its deepest grief

Of all calls that we employ

Love must be its chief

Then, whatever else life brings

Whether fly or fall

Love will heal its broken wings

If we heed its call

© Janet Martin

 By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another."
John 13:35

 Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”

 Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart 

and with all your soul and with all your mind.’

 This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”

Matt.22:36-40

Frames of Fading Awegust...

I spelled August 'Awe-gust' because that's what it is;
a gust of awe that leaves us a little
aw-don't leave-us-yet stricken!

The pulse of Mother Nature thrums

Buds breaks from bloom to burnished crumbs

The torch of golden rod is lit

The cricket minstrel does not quit

Long after day has met its mark

Its tweet-tweet-tweet stipples the dark

The garden groans with dreams come true (or work to do)

The sky, a sweep of satin-blue

The creek-bed overflows its edge

With streams of burdock, milkweed, sedge

The fence flaunts wild-bloom bric-a-brac

Where lands make up for much we lack

Bones ache with wear of honest toil

As we pluck summer from the soil

To snare its fare in jars and bins

And bear the brunt of curse for sins

Where through the pain of blood-sweat-tears

We gain the battle-wounds of years

The flower spreads its rainbow wings

The hour too; where summer sings

A hymn of farewell-flavored bars

In ditches stunned with petal-stars

In fields still filled or harvest’s sheaf

In butterflies of soybean leaf

The pulse of Mother Nature throbs

In musky, dusty dusk it sobs

In mid-day mid-task quick retreats

To backyard front-row window-seats

Where like forbidden sweets we taste

A second fistful of time’s haste

…and let a tear or two escape

To plop on non-stop echo-scape

As bud to bloom to seed runs rife

And death of days soon makes a life

Where August drapes its cape of sighs

Across earth’s scar-pocked paradise

© Janet Martin

Coping 'Mechanism'

...after a few *milk-bag boots-in-the-garden mornings...(story below)

dawn's coral jewel is back!

 (For a few minutes yesterday morning the sun 

popped through a band of dark rain-blue clouds

turning plain puddles into polished gold)

That coral gem on far-east hem soft-chimes; time’s gong turns gold and grins

It washes from earth’s girth the brume of birth and a new day begins

Where what waits next, ah, who can guess; for care has many shoes to fill

But how we cope, ah, steadfast hope; God’s grace sufficient for all, still

That well-laid ‘plan’ so dear to man is subject to a Higher Hand

And if He wills for man's good, ills, then surely He will help us stand

For He who draws from Mercy’s laws morn’s misted gauze of blush and blue

Does not leave us to fret and fuss without His hope to help us through

That sash of dew on splash of ‘new’ soon trades its diamonds for plain dirt

Where sweat and toil is the grand spoil of health; a common wealth of hurt

But, what a gift, the bend and lift and grunt-heave-ho of work to do

Where Steadfast Hope will help us cope as God grants strength to me and you

© Janet Martin

Where Morning Prayer is often a plea for God to bless and guide and keep

Night’s prayer is often a humble ‘thank-you for strength for the day’ before we fall asleep

  *where did I get the idea for milk-bag boots?

From a woman in North Carolina featured on The Weather Network.

One day when the camera-crew dropped by for a visit. 

she was mowing her lawn with a riding mower at quite a speed!

Wow! they exclaimed, You are amazing for a woman of...70-ish?!

"92!", she replied in an emphatic make-no-mistake voice!

... they decided on another surprise-visit.

This time when they knocked she wasn't in the house so they followed the sound of an engine and found her tilling her garden!!! on a hot Carolina day (and this is where the milk-bags come in!)

She covered her good-support shoes with milk-bags so when, (after she showed them her substantial garden which she had no plans of stopping as long as she was able) she invited them into the house, 

and all she had to do was slip the bags off her feet and step into her immaculate kitchen 

where fresh-baked pecan pies were cooling on the counter.

(she insisted they take one) The camera-crew was speechless!

When they asked, as they sat with her on her sprawling front-porch 'how do you do it?!"

 the 92 year-old woman replied after thinking for a little as she rocked slowly back and forth,

"Well, I don't worry much. I do what I can and leave the rest to God"

That line has become my mantra!