On Learning To Learn...

Life is full of bumps, dints, scraps and scrapes...

that take the shape of lessons to learn

😟

No quick-just-fix-it buttons
When what is done is done
No technique to turn backward
Moments beneath the sun

Only onward and forward
We learn most from mistakes
Life-lessons are important
In spite of its headaches

The best that we can muster
From things we would undo
Is to forgive each other
And learn its lesson too


© Janet Martin

Wild-flower Whispered Hymn

This poem/hymn was inspired by the wordless worship of wild-flowers...

 Sing to the LORD a new song; sing to the LORD, all the earth.

Psalm 96:1

The temple of wide-open fell is filled with nature’s praise
To He who tolls Time’s hallowed bell and numbers mortal days
To He who sees beneath facades; what fashions Passion's thirst
Whether we worship lesser gods or keep Jehovah first

The Ruler of heaven and earth is trustworthy and true
He has the answers that give birth to why-what-how-when-who
And we are called to worship He who has no origin
Whose thoughts and ways do not agree with human acumen

The altar of today exists in Mercy’s outstretched Hands
Where Offering of Self resists sacrificial demands
But still the father of compassion keeps a watchful eye
Redemption without ration flows in infinite supply

Then join the orchestra of flowered, feathered harmony
Let wonder be empowered by worship’s humility
Sing to the Lord in reverence without doubt’s albatross
Once and for all deliverance was purchased on the cross

Our self-serving accomplishments are worthless; without God
Life is a shelf showcasing arrangements of empty laud
Nay, sing unto the Lord; proclaim salvation day by day
For no one can afford the price that unbelief must pay

The temple of wide-open lea throbs with earth’s madrigal
While clocks count down mortality and markets rise and fall
While near and ever nearer draws the breath that severs ties
And dear to the believer dawns death’s farewell to goodbyes

Marvel at He who bled and died, whose perfect law is love
Godhead equality did not provide excuse enough
But rather love’s extravagance put on the form of man
And in humble obedience surrendered to Love’s plan

Then, not to sing unto the Lord, no words can justify
And not to have His praise out-poured deserves judgement’s reply
Jesus, the name above all names, deserves our worship now
For at the name of Jesus someday every knee will bow

© Janet Martin

 1 Chronicles 16:23
Sing to the LORD, all the earth. Proclaim His salvation day after day.
Psalm 13:6
I will sing to the LORD, for He has been good to me.
Psalm 33:3
Sing to Him a new song; play skillfully with a shout of joy.
Psalm 40:3
He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear and put their trust in the LORD.
Psalm 105:2
Sing to Him, sing praises to Him; tell of all His wonders.

Another Day That We Can Use...(a poem inspired by a journal entry from mom)

Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, 

and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. 

Are you not of more value than they?

Matt.6:26

‘Another day that we can use to let our light shine as a beacon to others.
May the Lord forgive us when we fail in this.’
This was the opening line in an entry of a trip-journal 

my mother wrote this spring as they traveled on a bus tour 

from Ontario to Arizona and many points of interest along the way,
but was suddenly cut short due to the coronavirus.
Her words inspired this morning's poem...


We have nothing to boast about without the Lord; He grants the means
Through what He lends by His mercy, to shine our little lamps for Him
Then as we recognize this fact it relieves us of futile stress
And reminds us with joy and peace of the Giver’s trustworthiness

How oft we fret and fuss, forgetting who we owe our efforts to
God who is ‘our refuge and strength’ has promised He will see us through
Then when the way we planned is thwarted by A Hand over our own
Our boast is still secure and pure because He is not overthrown

Then in the midnight of our lives when imprisoned with suffering
Still we like Paul and Silas did can rejoice as we pray and sing
Then, as others witness the hope as hallelujah-anthems brim
May others see God’s Light in us and draw the seeking heart to Him

© Janet Martin 

 

 Jeremiah 9:23-24
This is what the LORD says: "Let not the wise man boast in his wisdom,
nor the strong man in his strength,
nor the wealthy man in his riches.
But let him who boasts boast in this, that he understands and knows Me,
that I am the LORD, who exercises loving devotion,
justice and righteousness on the earth--for I delight in these things," declares the LORD.

 

 

Swift The Deed That Plants The Seed...

How swift the deed, how long the growing season as the seed takes root
The harvest, though the crop seems slow to show its kind will yield its fruit
The field of Time is filled people planting as we come and go
God is not mocked; and He has promised that we will reap what we sow

The seed, once dropped may seem stopped by the cover-up of dirt and time
But it is folly to believe there is no reckoning for crime
And we ought to be wary of the nucleus within our dreams
For idols will betray, no matter how harmless the worship seems

Take heart, dear little mother as you kiss and correct, scold and hold
The mission-field of home-sweet-home has so much harvesting to mold
Though modest seems the labour in this sacred little plot of earth
The seeds you drop and nurture none can equal in its priceless worth

Beware; dear young-but-not-for-as-long-as-the-season-may-appear
Wild oats are no small matter when the reaping of its crop is here
Where recompense, in spite of regret, grief cannot void or revert
Then ponder well the seeds you scatter; be vigilant and alert

…for swift the deed that plants the seed that sooner or later bears yield
Where we reap what we sow; and we are all part of a worldwide field
Where none can fool or trick the Ruler of temporal toil and strife
He who sows to the flesh reaps death but to the Lord, eternal life

© Janet Martin

 

Gal.6:7-10

 Do not be deceived, God is not mocked; for whatever a man sows, that he will also reap.

  ⁸ For he who sows to his flesh will of the flesh reap corruption, 

but he who sows to the Spirit will of the Spirit reap everlasting life. 

  ⁹ And let us not grow weary while doing good, 

for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart. 

 ¹⁰ Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all, 

especially to those who are of the household of faith.

 

 'Very much of our future life will depend upon our earliest days', said preacher Charles Spurgeon on January 15, 1893, then quoted Mr. Ruskins, not quite verbatim, ' people often say we excuse the thoughtlessness of youth, but he says no, it never ought to be excused. I'd far rather hear of thoughtless old age when a man has done his work, but what excuse can be found for a thoughtless youth? The time for thought is at the beginning of life and there is no period which so much demands or so much necessitates thoughtfulness as our early days...I would that all young men would think so.They say that they must sow their wild oats. No! No, my dear young friend. think before you sow such seed as that what the reaping will be. See if there is not better corn to be found than wild oats and sow that, then think how you will sow it and when you will sow it 

for if you do not think about the sowing, what will the harvest be? '

Gratitude For All Things August

For drenching rain from clouds that burst
To quench the angst of nature’s thirst

For harvest-sheaves; a teeming tide
Of rolled gold dotting countryside 

For rooms that brim with blooms that steal
Our breath with beauty’s fragile reel

For dusty dusk and dewy dawn
And crickets that sing on and on 

For hearts that race as moments chase
Sweet summer through its vain embrace

For aromas of pickling spice
For peach-happiness, slice by slice

For gardens brimming with fresh fare
As payoff for its constant care

For sunflowers that beam with cheer
No matter what the weather, dear

For enchanting sun-shadow art
On canvasses of leaf and heart

For fence-lines fringed with filigree
Of Queen Ann’s Lace and chicory

For ‘buffet tables’ that unroll
Feast for the eyes; food for the soul

For green sweeps glazed with silver stars

For rainbows snared in canning jars

For August’s happy, happy hours
Served on a platter steeped in flowers

...from He whose handiwork is lent
And ever filled with wonderment

© Janet Martin