Lest We Search Earth's Plain In Vain

 This poem is a collection of Truths I must often remind myself about

esp. on an 'off' day! 

 

Until we claim God’s promises as Love's Ultimate plan

Until we crave and cling to His Word like a dying man

Until we keep it in our hearts to be our hope and guide

And realize ‘it was for me’ Jesus suffered and died

Until we open up His Book with more than Duty’s rod

Then we will search earth’s plain in vain to find the peace of God

Until we sing his praises from the bottom of our hearts

Until His grace amazes us to thought’s uttermost parts

Until we see the agony he bore on our behalf

As something more than religion’s Platonic Autograph

Until it drenches our souls the way rain drenches sod

Then we will search earth’s plain in vain to find the love of God

Until we bear the yoke He gives with kind humility

Content, no matter what life is, ‘because He lives in me’

Until we learn to turn anxiety and fear to trust

Until we value more than this brief score of dust to dust

Until His mercy, new each morning makes hope’s hearts applaud

Then we will search earth’s plain in vain to find the joy of God

© Janet Martin

Psalm 145:3

 Great is the LORD and most worthy of praise; his greatness no one can fathom.

Romans 11:33
O, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable His judgments, and untraceable His ways!

Job 9:10
He does great and unfathomable things, wonders without number.

Job 11:7
Can you fathom the deep things of God or discover the limits of the Almighty?

Psalm 86:10
For You are great and perform wonders; You alone are God.
Psalm 95:3
For the LORD is a great God, a great King above all gods.
Psalm 96:4
For great is the LORD, and greatly to be praised; He is to be feared above all gods.
Psalm 135:5
For I know that the LORD is great; our Lord is above all gods.
Psalm 147:5
Great is our Lord and mighty in power; His understanding has no limit.
Psalm 150:2
Praise Him for His mighty acts; praise Him for His excellent greatness.
Isaiah 40:28
Do you not know? Have you not heard? the LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will never grow faint or weary; His understanding is beyond searching out.

Fear or Trust?

 

"Wow!" I remarked to Victoria as I saw the 'cold that just won't quit' this morning

and turned the furnace back farther as it rumbled to life in mid-June...

"I don't know what we will do if orchards, fields and gardens fail! 

We always count on them to refill empty bins, freezers and jars!"

The garden shivers and struggles to grow...

(but, the seeds are in which is more than some can say)

Those days we pause to contemplate

The ‘what if’ that is not so great

Beyond the scope we commandeer

Then we must choose twixt trust or fear

The future is a fragile fringe

Upon which hope and heartache hinge

Its ‘wait and see’ wafts like star-dust

All we can do is fear or trust

We owe God everything we have

He owes us nothing; for He gave

The best He had to save the lost

Man’s greatest gain His greatest cost

So, though we do not know what waits

Beyond heart-harboured garden gates

The best we can achieve, my dear

Is to let trust out-muster fear

And offer up to He who grants

Far more than favors wrought by chance

(Lest with our fat cheeks stuffed with food

We forget to pray like we should)

…a heart that hungers to embrace

The Author of mercy and grace

And appeal to Love’s gracious ear

That He would help us trust, not fear

© Janet Martin

 In thee, O Lord, do I put my trust; 

 let me never be ashamed: 

deliver me in thy righteousness.

Psalm 31:1 KJV


 But I trust in you, LORD; I say, "You are my God."
Psalm 31:14 NIV

 Psalm 18:2
The LORD is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer;
my God, my strength, in whom I will trust;
my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower.

Life's Simple, Sweetest Gifts...

No, this is not sheer drudgery

Though Duty replenishes lists

With chore-galore monotony

These are life’s simple, sweetest gifts

For health and strength supplies the grace

To care for home and families

Then pray we thankfully embrace

Tangible blessings such as these

For should the gift of strength and health

Withdraw its beauty for a while

My, how we would pine for the wealth

Of common tasks to make us smile

© Janet Martin

I Woke To Sounds of Raindrop Feet...

I woke to sounds of rain-drop feet

Tap-dancing on the leaves and street

Where morn unmoored from night’s dark lea

To set sail on Time’s seasoned sea

…as we, like passengers aboard

This fellow-ship of deed and word

Embrace dawn’s grace-lent mystery

Toward a common destiny

Where sun and rain will have its day

And joy and pain its gold and gray

To acquaint us with high and low

Of holding on and letting go

Where storm and calm alarms and cheers

Time’s voyagers with smiles and tears

And Hope, the anchor of the soul

Ensures the advent of the goal

I woke to sounds of raindrop feet

Where faith and fear daily compete

Where passengers of seasoned sod

Are wise to trust Time’s Captain; God

© Janet Martin

 Psalm 148:7-13

 Praise the Lord from the earth,
    you great sea creatures and all ocean depths, 

 lightning and hail, snow and clouds,
    stormy winds that do his bidding,

you mountains and all hills,
    fruit trees and all cedars,

wild animals and all cattle,
    small creatures and flying birds, 

 kings of the earth and all nations,
    you princes and all rulers on earth, 

 young men and women,
    old men and children.

 Let them praise the name of the Lord,
    for his name alone is exalted;
    his splendor is above the earth and the heavens.

The Ink That Fills The Poet's Pen

 Some bonus word-play-time as I waited, and waited for my later than usual,
 'hungry, happy supper-clan'...

The ink that fills the poet’s pen is siphoned from the sigh of trees

The noise of boys, the tender yen that draws a mother to her knees

The happiness of home-sweet-home where dreams and Duty intertwine

The pitter-patter of bare feet on dusty lanes, the rain-pearled vine

The warm handshake, the birthday cake, the books that make us laugh and cry

The carriage of an afternoon drawn by Percherons of July

The silver sea, pink peony, blue end of dusk, pale husk of moon

The crimson gong that slips beyond the swell of field and fell so soon

The old town-clock, the leaf-strewn walk, the dandelion-snows of May

The aftermath of winter’s wrath, a cup-of-tea-wee-holiday

The lilt of lark, the grit and spark of lusty fellows in their prime

The slower gait and kinder wait of those who wear the kiss of time

The hummingbird, the landscape blurred beneath a brush of morning mist

The gentle dad, the mother glad, the child laughter and freckle kissed

The newborn babe that makes the cup of joy run wild and thrills the tear

With wonder for pure innocence and perfection of heaven near

Mischievous tot; my, my, what jot your darling naughtiness inspires

The hungry, happy supper clan, God's faithful hand, gardens, camp-fires

The rise and fall of voices after darkness dims the motley crew

And if all else should fail, my dear, never the ink of ‘I love you’

© Janet Martin