Monday, January 6, 2020

Poem-tug


 My sister dubbed this pic a wordless poem...and it is!
But something still tugged to be written!



Some simply see a field
Winter-bronzed grass,
A tree
Some hear a poem
Rushing like
A wave-song symphony

Some sense a tender tug
As nature’s
Violin
Spills ancient stanzas
Lilt by lilt
Across earth’s weathered skin

Some see a silent stage
In one
Unfeeling glance
Some feel the tug
Of ink
And page
Inviting them to dance

© Janet Martin


So God Made Little Boys...

I absolutely love listening to our just-turned three-year-old grandson
 belting out 'I waise a hawewoowah'

Dear Grand-sonny, we love all of what makes you...you!
 Pictures are worth a thousand words
Photo credit to c.poot photography

What a happy birthday supper we had😊

Auntie Tor, Daddy and Grandma were present as well...just somehow missed the camera)



He knew we needed exercise
And good reasons to pray
An endless stream of chatter
And the melody of play
Reminders of pure innocence
Sweet naughtiness and noise
To keep us not quite so uptight
So God made little boys

He knew sometimes we would need more
Than words can quite explain
Like splashing through lake- puddles
In or after the rain
Like learning to think bigger
By studying smaller joys
Like digging in the garden-dirt
So God made little boys

He knew we would find freedom
In the teeny ties that bind
Our hearts as chubby fingers tug
Us from chores left behind
For worlds of bugs, slugs, ants and bees
Better than heaps of toys
As we learn on our hands and knees
So He made little boys

…to keep our conscience keener
And our common care more sweet
To make our pastures greener
As we both follow and lead
To make love’s gladness purer
In the sieve of simple joys
God knew we would need laughter
So He made little boys

© Janet Martin




Sometimes Our Grip Slips...


 Rest in God alone, O my soul, for my hope comes from Him.
 My salvation and my honor rest on God, 
my strong rock; my refuge is in God.…
Psalm 62:5-7

' Cling to the rock of salvation' I offered as words of consolation to a grieving friend.
'I do', she replied, 'but sometimes my grip slips!'

Oh, can we not all sympathize with that one?!

Some hymns of encouragement...




 
Yes, sometimes our grip slips
No matter how we cling
And all that we can do is trust
The refuge of His wing

Yes, sometimes our grip slips
And all that we can do
Is let go and trust He who knows
The whole, to see us through

Yes, sometimes our grip slips
We are not strong enough
So we let go and freefall into
Everlasting love

© Janet Martin

 He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge;
 his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
Psalm 91:4

New Year's Thankfulness-Challenge


I don't make New Year's Resolutions
but I do review and renew resolves!

Yesterday our Sunday School lesson was about Stephen, the first martyr
For the One, Jesus, who gave His life for us, he gave his....
It got me to examining how I am giving mine!
When 'rocks' are hurled, how do I respond?
Is my life a living sacrifice?

Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God's mercy, 
to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God--
this is your true and proper worship.
Rom.12:1

 
Nobody is entitled to a thing we have or hold
Therefore none are excused to squander mercy’s moment-gold
This day that grace has granted plants within all we profess
A most sacred occasion to examine thankfulness

A book, invisible to we, vexed by the wishful eye
Is filled with man’s responses from the heart that cannot lie
Then pray above all else we crave a heart of tenderness
And take an honest, open look at our thankfulness

For no one is entitled to a single grace we host
This grace, it is a gift from God and ought to fill our boast
(oh, what is more despicable than greed or selfishness)
Lord, work in us a miracle of humble thankfulness

For we are not entitled to one. Single. Cent. we earn
Naked we came into this world, naked we will return
Then teach us on our way to You how to find happiness
Not through 'wealth' we accumulate but by true thankfulness

This state of mass confusion that the world is in today
Is filled with man’s profuse excuses as Self has its say
For we are cursed and blessed with cares common to humanness
And sometimes so contrary to our would-be thankfulness

Where no one is entitled to what is too oft ignored
The One who grants the hope we ought to be striving toward
Because all that we have and hold to cheer this mortal beast
Are but the crumbs that fall from tables laden with a Feast

Then, lest we shift our gaze from things above to things below
Lord, fill our hearts with praise to Thee, from whom all blessings flow
And help us to trust you enough to take pillows of ‘yes’
And sacrifice them on an altar of love’s thankfulness

How do we offer up ourselves as living sacrifice
How do we prove that we are not bought with a dollar's price
How do we ever start to gain a heart of tenderness
First by turning to Jesus, then by learning thankfulness



© Janet Martin

 Jer.17:7-11
 Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord,
And whose hope is the Lord.
For he shall be like a tree planted by the waters,
Which spreads out its roots by the river,
And will not [c]fear when heat comes;
But its leaf will be green,
And will not be anxious in the year of drought,
Nor will cease from yielding fruit.

“The heart is deceitful above all things,
And [d]desperately wicked;
Who can know it?
I, the Lord, search the heart,
I test the [e]mind,
Even to give every man according to his ways,
According to the fruit of his doings.
As a partridge that [f]broods but does not hatch,
So is he who gets riches, but not by right;
It will leave him in the midst of his days,
And at his end he will be a fool.”