When We Pray...

It's summer-break time so this will be
the last post for a week or two!
God bless and keep.

Psalm 68:17
The chariots of God are tens of thousands--thousands of thousands are they; 

the Lord is in His sanctuary as He was at Sinai.

Psalm 104:4
He makes the winds His messengers, flames of fire His servants.

2 Kings 6:17
Then Elisha prayed, “O LORD, please open his eyes that he may see.” 

And the LORD opened the eyes of the young man, and he saw that the hills 

were full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha.

We have within a whisper’s reach, nay, closer yet than this

Access to a shelter beneath the roar of much amiss

The Unknown like the Red Sea rolls; faith’s enemies pursue

But we may still have confidence to fearlessly pass through

We have within surrender’s grip hope’s lifeline held secure

Because of He who left His throne our pardon to endure

Twixt folded fingers, bended knee and heart yielded and still

We may approach the throne of grace to Mercy’s perfect will

We have, no matter who or where we are, an equal claim

No one greater or lesser as we call upon His name

His eyes are on the righteous; his ears open to their cry

Where, when we pray God’s chariots of fire fill the sky

© Janet Martin

Psalm 34:15 (click link to read the whole glorious chapter!)

The eyes of the LORD are on the righteous,
and His ears are inclined to their cry


Morning Meditation

As feet touch down on the Great Unknown
Is it not sweet to know
We have access to Mercy's throne
Wherever we may go

Where all that stand twixt Him and us
As we bow down to pray
Is our own unwillingness
To trust Him and obey

 © Janet Martin

Delightfully Defeated

 This poem began on what was going to be a quick walk home from the mechanic,

just a few country-lanes away, but

turned into a stroll of sweet summer-seduction

You win I say to the blade of grass all liquid-glass bejeweled

You win I say to the lily-lamp by quadrillion sun-watts fueled

You win I whisper to Queen Ann’s Lace that gilds the field of wheat

You win I sigh to the upturned face of any bloom I meet

To the bird that tweets from the lofty sheaf

To the herd that grazes on thistle and twitch

To the sun-ray snared on a rim of leaf

To manifold marvels that charm and bewitch

You win I say to the dirt-road-lure that dangles from the sky

You win I say to the curl of vine that tangles with my sigh

You win I whisper to freckled grins and cherub-chubby cheeks

You win I laugh to love’s Autograph where brand new morning breaks

To the hummingbird as it hover and darts

To the undeterred wonder of bud to bloom

To July’s invincible thief of hearts

To the curious mechanics of the spud-loom

You win I say to the hollyhock stalk dressed in pretty pink

You win I say to the way a day can spill oceans of ink

You win I cede to the russet reed drinking the shallows dry

You win, I admit to the butterfly, cloud-schooners drifting by

To hazy, lazy afternoon rain

To the daisy; he/she loves me, loves me not

To the waves that wash through a field of grain

To wishes come true in a vegetable-plot

You win I say to the clay pot hosting sprig of lavender

You win I say to the rain-drop mirroring in miniature

You win I whisper to translucent leaf splayed against the sun

You win I weep where lyrics hound until a poem is spun

You win, you win, yes, you win, and you win,

I say to sweet summer’s splendour of the earth

You win, you win, yes and you win again

As another hymn of sheer gladness gives birth

© Janet Martin

When On Love's Wounds We Meditate...

 ...lest I make a fuss about things not needful!😆

(it's not that bad, really!)

Who knew all these years later the hanky from my gramma

that became church-mice and babies in a  hammock
and many other folded creations,

as I sat for two hours in church every Sunday morning,

would become a mask!!!

I also have a 'real' one, don't worry!

(sometimes when I forget what's really important it's good to

take time to revisit and remember.)

When on love’s wounds we meditate

And contemplate the price

Of He who left heaven’s estate

To be sin’s sacrifice

Then what we suffer here below

Begins to dwarf in scale

For He, whose grace whereby we go

Grants love that will not fail

When we revisit Calvary

And stand among the men

Who nailed his body to the tree

(and we were one of them)

Then we begin to humbly see

How filthy we had been

How utterly unworthy we

That His blood washes clean

Then we with sorrow-mingled joy

Are overcome with awe

God’s grace is free without decoy

His love is Mercy’s law

And should I take my eyes off He

Who suffered in my stead

Lord, lead me back to Calvary

Beneath the blood You shed

© Janet Martin

Hope (No Holds Barred)

Where we tripped over stumbling blocks we laid

And plans we made succeeded to our shame

And choice now bears the price we blindly paid

And we have no one but ourselves to blame

When deeds, meat for repentance, proved The Fall

Our God so rich in mercy forgave/forgives all

When consequence abounds in bitter fruit

(For root of pride can yield no goodly/godly gain)

And if repentance is not absolute

We weep and beg upon our knees in vain)

But if we have surrendered, no holds barred

God reaches down with hands, redemption-scarred

When we groan ‘neath the weight of Wisdom earned

Through what we yearned for, long returned to dust

While Thought by human nature too oft spurned

Kind admonition contrary to lust

When we with contrite spirit make amends

Then God so rich in forgiveness defends

When we battle with demons, dark with doubt

And eyes are drawn from Hands, still grace engraved

Then call on the Him, for no one is cast out

Whoever calls on Jesus will be saved

There is room at the cross for everyone

Where God so rich in mercy gave His Son

When we are tempted to despair, press on

For all we bear for Christ in not in vain

And ought we not to suffer for the One

Who bore our debt so that to die is gain

Now then forget what lies behind, instead

Press on toward the Prize that lies ahead

…for when we trust in He who keeps His Word

Engrossed in more than subjects sight-defined

Then we can live with passion undeterred

Vision no longer blurred with double mind

And when at last we pass through death’s cold gates

God who made Heaven possible there waits

© Janet Martin

 Phil. 3:13-14 (BSB)

Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. 

But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind 

and straining toward what is ahead,

I press on toward the goal to win the prize 

of God’s heavenly calling in Christ Jesus.