It Was A Beautiful Day...

It was a special Mother's Day even though we could not all be together...

wow! 

I can't wait till we get the green light on get-togethers!!

Sunday started with a simple breakfast...

 over scrabble...

 ...first oriole visit!

... a beautiful worship service.

In the afternoon Victoria and I hiked off the beaten track for a few hours...

In the evening while we were face-timing all together
the family surprised me speechless with a new mixer
to replace the temperamental relic I was using!
(sometimes it would choose its speed regardless where I set it;
very annoying if it chose high-speed when I was adding flour)

...as you can see, in spite of all the things that I could name that I missed
it was still a beautiful day!

So much trouble we could have had that somehow lost its way

To gift us with the memory of a beautiful day

For all that could have run amuck, for woe that could have been

We thank You, Lord; we’ll never know how oft you intervene

Where, midst the muddle and the mess of mortal maladies

You bless us with the happiness of precious memories

Then as we count the mercies that Your providence imparts

Love’s picture-collage births meek gratitude that bursts our hearts

For all the trouble that we never did experience

We hardly know how to reply to such benevolence

But to remember to address this blessing when we pray

And thank God for the kindness of a most beautiful day

© Janet Martin

Life is far from perfect; but we choose happiness!

When we think of everything that could go wrong and hasn't...yet

may this be enough to fill us with love and gratefulness

for What Is.

All Together Now...

All together now...let's say it and mean it!

This is the day the Lord has made.

We will rejoice and be glad in it.

Ps.118:24

 (although most of us will admit the colour of the backdrop has ceased to be amusing

I've never in all of my almost 54 years seen anything like it!

The snow-plow just went by on May the 11th!)

We cannot sway the soundless force

Where morning spills its charge

And we are called to stay the course

With He who stays the barge

For retrospect will soon survey

Today’s proffered appeal

A medley of moments that play

A melody, surreal

Then make the most of here and now

This holy bread we break

Is more than time’s begotten chow

To thanklessly partake

This is the day the Lord has made

For rich and poor the same

To rejoice and be glad in it

And glorify His name

Then praise him all together, love

Who knows what waits to be

Where we are at the mercy of

Love's flawless majesty 

© Janet Martin

 oh well I said to Victoria...

it really does look like this is the last of it

Victoria's reply; I'll believe it when I see it'

(can't really blame her!)

Victoria's remark jolted a little add-on poem

 

I’ll believe it when I see

Sometimes glibly we reply

When bare fact and expectation

Vex us with what meets the eye

I’ll believe it when I see it

May we never dare to dare

He who all will bow before Him

When He appears on the air

Too late then for the redemption

He beckons all to receive

If we wait until we see Him

Before we choose to believe

© Janet Martin

Oh, Dear Mom, At The Time We Didn't Think Of It

She opens her mouth with wisdom,
And on her tongue is the law of kindness.
She watches over the ways of her household,
And does not eat the bread of idleness.

Her children rise up and call her blessed;
Her husband also, and he praises her:
“Many daughters have done well,
But you excel them all.”
Charm is deceitful and beauty is passing,
But a woman who fears the Lord, 

she shall be praised.

Prov.31:26-30 

Mom, a pic from years ago, in her happy place;

a garden with flowers

An old class-mate of mine shared a tribute on Facebook to his departed,

 much missed and beloved mum...

His comment to a memory I shared was the springboard to this year's mom-poem.

He said, "
At the time, we didn't think of it, but now we know how great she was!"

Oh, that says it all to all of us, doesn't it?!! 

At the time we didn’t think of it

We ate and played and dreamed and grew

And in the little blink of it

Learned more than, at the time, we knew

At the time we didn’t give much thought

To what a mother gives and takes

Or of the love that toiled and taught

While we soiled clothes, devoured cakes

At the time we didn’t see the half

Of what dear mother gave and prayed

Until the heart-shaped autograph

Of echoes and memories made

At the time we didn’t grasp the truth

Of values clad in common threads

We tore the cover off her youth

And benefited from its shreds

At the time we didn’t understand

The double-edge of love, but stood

Upon the labour of her hand

And tender tears of motherhood

At the time we thrived beneath her voice

Rebuked if willful words ran wild

Or cautioned in a world of choice

That starts to shape even a child

At the time we didn't know what we had

Or appreciate this careworn saint

Apron-clad and humming-glad

 Never stooping to complaint

At the time we didn’t realize

How much or often we would gaze

At what we now cherish and prize

And will, for all our living days

So now, as I try to express

My gratitude I hope somehow

You feel the humble thankfulness

For all that I am seeing now

Dear mom, today I/we honor you

As by God’s grace you gave your best

For your example, meek, strong, true

Your children rise and call you blessed

© Janet Martin

Rolling With The Crunches...

 Optimist or pessimist,

 this morning's cloak was a struggle to embrace!

(surreal beauty)

 In their hearts humans plan their course, 

but the LORD establishes their steps.

 Prov.16:9

From holy heaven to earth's lowly portal

Mercy, its manifold measure bestows

We witness discourse with ken purely mortal

Only the Giver the full matter knows

Bitter, the brunt of His ways against ours

Man makes his plans but God directs his step

Forgive us, Father when we would choose flowers

But you have arranged a blizzard instead

Make our words fit for ear-consumption

When hallelujah succumbs to alas

Forgive our reasoning, prone to assumption

Help us remember, this too shall pass

Janet Martin

Ah, Poem

Never know where you will take me

Never know where you will lead

Or what you will wake within me

Where syllables intercede

Never know what you will whisper

What reason your rites unfold

Whether you are miss or mister

Wild or bridled, young or old

Never know if you bring laughter

Or a melancholy dread

Sometimes before, sometimes after

Torn between my heart and head

Never know how you will greet me

Fist-a-cuff or tender kiss

when or where you wait to meet me

That’s the way a poem is

Will you be a landscape painter
Or a flower or a sigh/sky
Never know how you will answer
Is it hello or good-bye

© Janet Martin