The First and Final Word

God’s Word, righteous and glorious

Perfect, eternal, true

 It makes His love alive in us

Like nothing else will do

It equips, completes, trains, sustains

Corrects and edifies

Though all else fails, still IT remains

To make the simple wise

It does not cater to the flesh

But on its sacred page

Reveals God's perfect Righteousness

Unchanged from age to age

The judgment of ten thousand men

That knowledge may applaud

Is like the noise of small children

Without the Word of God

God’s grace will always be enough

To break the curse of sin

But only through His word in us

Can His power begin

A branch, when severed from the vine

Is a dead, fruitless thing

His Word is the faithful lifeline

To which the branches cling

God’s love is ever undeterred

A pure and perfect rod

In the Beginning was The Word

The Word Was and IS God

© Janet Martin

 
1 Thessalonians 2:13
And we continually thank God that in receiving the word of God from us,

 you did not accept it as the word of men, but as the true word of God--

the word now at work in you who believe.

 So then faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.

Romans 10:17

Every Scripture is God-breathed and profitable for instruction, for conviction,

 for correction, and for training in righteousness,

 so that the man of God may be complete, fully equipped for every good work.…

2 Tim.3:16-17

Charcuterie of Poetry...

Regular routines have been derailed a bit the past few days/weeks.
I didn't forget about Thurs. what's-for supper etc.
In fact, this poem (if I remember correctly)was started for that purpose.

but my family prefers if I must choose between the two, that I choose cooking, not writing.

Because you can't (literally) eat a poem!

 and because I was really looking forward to sharing the Jamaican Jerk Chicken Recipe

(from my friend's daughter's Cooking Through Generations blog)

here is the supper from last  Thursday's never-completed post...

But, because supper will never be enough to satisfy certain hungers

Here's to flavours not found in your cookbook!

I’ve tasted through the tracery of ink pressed into poetry

The glory of the written word like salt-spray from a surging sea

The ambiance of bygone days like echo-extract, bittersweet

The timbre of farewell poured from a flask to rain-strummed lane and street

There is a sense of ease about a breeze that bears spring’s heady hope

Of April sunshine like warm honey drizzled on a sunny slope

Sometimes the wind is seasoned with the wistfulness for what is not

Or pungent with aromas rousing awareness for what we’ve got

I’ve tasted summer in the middle of frigid February

Darling, this is the glorious gift of ink arranged in poetry

Ah, can’t you catch a hint of wild mint wafting from brook-banks below

Or muted essence of moments falling in apple-blossom snow

Labyrinthine of ink- cuisine is not a fast-food gulp-and-burp

Charcuterie of poetry is to savour like fine dessert

Aw, let’s not hurry so although there is always too much to do

Let’s linger longer; taste the lyrics of love's precious me-and-you

The bard has left for taste and touch (in books and such) a grand buffet

But weaves in it the sense of never enough hours in a day

To spell the whole of heart and soul leaves poets always on the verge

Of verse, to try to snare some remnants of life’s wonder-flavoured splurge

© Janet Martin


 click link for...
 Jamaican Jerk Chicken Recipe
 (from my friend's daughter's Cooking Through Generations blog)

I didn't have drumsticks so I cut up a small chicken , mixed seasonings,
rubbed it on and baked
Easy, quick,
nutritious and delicious!
My favorite kind of cooking!

Perfect Reason For All Seasons...

In life’s seasons cold and dismal beauty does not change its ways

Hope still bridges hurt abysmal, dawn still brims with Mercy’s gaze

Love still keeps redemption’s promise, (nothing dis-annuls God’s Word )

In the middle of life’s winter spring is waiting undeterred

In the middle of the muddle that can vex the well-laid plan

When the ways of God befuddle the determined ways of man

Love still stands amidst the rubble like hope’s gonfalon unfurled

God is bigger than the trouble that torments this broken world

When the weight of woe would crush us but for grace that sets us free

When the ache of longing rushes like a river to the sea

Love still grants the Perfect Reason to let our spirits soar

For love gives to every season so much to be thankful for

© Janet Martin

 How good it is to sing praises to our God,
    how pleasant and fitting to praise him!

Psalm 147:1

Sometimes A Poem...

 What's your poem today?

Even gray days brim with beauty...

Sometimes wonder needs an outlet

Sometimes longing needs a home

Sometimes mem’ries need a locket

Sometimes rev’rie needs to roam

Sometimes then, it seems we need a poem

Sometimes weakness needs a shoulder

To lean on, like strength of ink

Sometimes, as we’re growing older

We like taking time to think

Sometimes a poem grants that tender link

Sometimes we want to remember

Tints that seasoned tides attract

So we try to save September

Like gold glimmers, snared and stacked

Where a poem leaves gleaned sheaves intact

Sometimes summer needs retracing

Sometimes winter needs a prayer

Sometimes the Thing we’re embracing

Disappears into thin air

Sometimes a poem drives away despair

Sometimes moments need no music

Save a ballad bittersweet

Sometimes beauty needs no showcase

Save the heart that skips a beat

Sometimes a poem is all the love we need

© Janet Martin

Beholding Faithful Father-God...

 Behold what manner of love the Father has bestowed on us, 

that we should be called children of God!

1 John 3:1

We behold You where morning moors its ship on shores of blush and blue

Where circumstance is not by chance or love but for the chosen few

You greet us on dawn’s beaming street with what some deem a common nod

While all the while we’re witnessing the faithfulness of You, oh God

The rise and fall of all we cherish tunes the heart to treat Time well

How swift the gift of something new melts into mist where morning fell

Aha, the law of nature does not change its pattern or its pace

While all the while we’re witnessing the faithful lantern of Your grace

We behold you where mercy shakes the starry deep and dims the dark

New day unveils Hope’s awesome Door still open to Salvation’s Ark

Where all who enter find redemption, saved from Hades awful fate

While all the while we’re witnessing the holy agony of ‘wait’

…while you love to delight the eye with all that faithfulness imparts

Where wonder wakens worship, even in hard, atheistic hearts

Where Unbelief is still belief but in far less than faith defends

While all the while we’re witnessing Your Providence that grace extends

We behold You in whispered utterances veiled as day-to-day

Behold, what manner of mercy always brushes the night away

Behold, what bold and beautiful testaments bend the sky and sod

While all the while we’re witnessing the faithfulness of Father-God

© Janet Martin