Seeing Through the Glass Darkly or Prayer Changes Things/Us

This is not just any old chair...

Many, a many a prayer has climbed faith's stair from this old chair!

Prayers for forgiveness, wisdom, healing, patience and trust

and above all, love.

Prayer changes things; it transcends logic’s altitude of facts 

And transfers answers onus to He who His will exacts 

Mercy makes no mistakes, though the middle of His reply 

May feel like harsh rebuttals to the creature of the cry 

Prayer changes things; even when reasoning is mystified 

And ‘answers’ do not always feel like God is on our side 

Prayer changes things, if faith can learn to trust enough to yield 

And leave it all to Love until His purpose is revealed 

Prayer changes things; it flees the cage of comprehension’s scope 

And leaves the outcome with the One who is man’s Living Hope 

Prayer teaches us to listen as He whispers ‘Peace, be still’ 

While He works out for Greater Good the purpose of His will 

Prayer changes things, like attitudes impaired with fear or pride 

The Potter shapes the clay where change begins; on the inside 

And just as Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane 

Prayed to his Father so He bids us all ‘come unto Me’ 

Prayer changes things; as we begin to relinquish control 

And surrender the answers to the Saviour of the soul 

Prayer is the hiding place beneath the feathers of His wings 

Where God gathers us close, so close to Him; prayer changes things 

© Janet Martin 

We pray yet often prayers feel unanswered. 

We pray for healing and people die. 

We pray for the salvation of lost souls, ‘but they will not’ 

We pray for change that does not happen 

For love that seems to fail. 

But we see through a glass darkly. We see in part. 

Jesus prayed in Gethsemane and taught us how to pray;

Matt.26:39 

Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, 

"My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. 

Yet not as I will, but as you will." 

He was brutally crucified. He died. 

It looked like His prayer was unanswered but

God the Father sees beyond the present circumstance/suffering! 

Isa. 53:10-11

Yet it was the Lord’s will to crush him and cause him to suffer,
    and though the Lord makes[c] his life an offering for sin,
he will see his offspring and prolong his days,
    and the will of the Lord will prosper in his hand.

After he has suffered,
    he will see the light of life[d] and be satisfied[e];
by his knowledge[f] my righteous servant will justify many,
    and he will bear their iniquities.

Heb 2. 8-10 

Now in putting everything in subjection to him, 

he left nothing outside his control.

At present, we do not yet see everything in subjection to him. 

But we see him who for a little while was made lower than the angels, namely Jesus, 

crowned with glory and honor because of the suffering of death, 

so that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone. 

For it was fitting that he, for whom and by whom all things exist, 

in bringing many sons to glory, should make the founder of their salvation

perfect through suffering...

How Deep The Father's Love For Us

About The Good Old Days...

Some supper-nights are more chatter-y than others; 

lots of laughter at tonight's meal reminded me to Cherish

It takes more than reviving old-fashioned cake recipes (like Queen Elizabeth cake) 

and pies (like shoofly pie)

to bring back the good-old-days, but we kitcheneers sometimes try

because we never know what recreating nostalgic flavours will create;

perhaps some youngster's good-old-day memories!

Maybe for my family it will be something like tonight's roasted veggies and chili!

More this year than ever before have I heard (sometimes from my own mouth)

'I miss the old normal' or

'I miss the good, old days'

Although we cannot bring back ‘good, old days’ sweetened by years 

Where, smoothed beneath the hand of time its grindstone disappears 

We ought to strive to keep alive the essence of its How 

And serve it up in ways that seem quite ordinary now 

The gold gong in yon belfry has not changed since time began 

The length and breadth of day to day the same since Adam’s clan 

And love, in spite of all the flaws and faux pas of people 

Is still the Greatest Commandment no progress can annul 

We cannot toss a lure into the deep and draw to shore 

Like a big bass, walleye or pike, those dear-old-days of yore 

But we can seek to emulate the impressions they wove 

And make, even in modern days some good-old-days to love 

Because it is life’s simple things that never lose their charm 

The joy a dinner hour brings where homes are welcome-warm 

And we use words like God, mom, dad, I’m sorry, try again 

Until these days don’t seem so bad that no good can remain 

How common seem the threads that weave mementos, held most dear 

Where echoes waft in pictures that grow more perfect each year 

Because, Time’s tender touch brushes blemishes from Past’s art 

To make the ‘good old days’ a priceless treasure of the heart 

© Janet Martin 

Like A Scarf...

Everything we see is like a scarf 

wrapped around 

More Than Meets the Eye

There's no doubt about it; 

the colour-clock is counting down its tints, 

leaf by leaf, 

like a scarf dismantling

stitch by stitch

Beneath our feet the bittersweet fragments of glory gleam...

The rain drains woodlands of mosaics; scarlet yields to gray 

The wind dwindles leaf-kindled awe as autumn awnings fray 

Beneath our feet the bittersweet fragments of glory gleam 

A little bit like echoes from a fond and altered dream 

The gold that boldly stole our breath while death regaled our view 

With leafy-limbed apparel sketched on backdrops brooding-blue 

Surrenders; for the Splendor cannot keep at bay the toll 

That dismantles tree-mantles like the veil that shrouds the Soul 

Earth’s smorgasbord of beauty is a marvel to behold 

But Time, the tireless Tutor soon reveals more than the mold 

And we who once were deluded by what our eyes applaud 

Become attuned to sums beneath the first-fruits of façade 

The Season-clock is never knocked off-kilter; day by day 

And leaf by leaf and tick by tock Death stalks its primal prey 

Where breath by breath we weave a wreath like leaf or flower-chains 

Till the circle of life falls like a scarf from What Remains

 

© Janet Martin

Soul/Sole Security

Seems fall-lovers here in Ontario

continue to be thrilled to the max by 

an exceptionally colorful version of the season

in what has been an exceptionally trying year!

The picture below is from a photo-poem desk calendar 

I received out of the blue (no birthday or anything) the other year

from my sister; I keep re-enjoying it because there's always pages I've missed or forgotten!

(I think that's why each season never loses its splendor; the missing and forgetting😊)

No matter what season we are in

may it always be a season of prayer,

Because Time is a turbulent tide!

Sickness of body and soul 

and so much beyond our control

insist we choose either faith or fear

to be compass and guide...

Fear flings us into foaming deeps

without a hope or prayer

Faith (even mustard-seed in size) 

is the firm anchor that keeps

us from drowning in despair

We surf a sea of season-tides 

What hides in its momentous deep 

Could keep us from hope’s sheer delight 

And rob us of laughter and sleep 

We bobble between faith and fear 

Because there is no clear-cut course 

Carved through the waves that vault and veer 

And dash us with violent force 

No one can claim clear-sailing grants 

Or tame the turbulence of Test 

Where surf and turf of circumstance 

Is always volatile at best 

Nobody knows what lies ahead 

How then can we find joy and peace 

Fear fills our hearts with doubt and dread 

Where dark the doleful clouds increase 

Faith finds the anchor that abides 

In He who hears each humble prayer 

And cups the sea of season-tides 

And all its ‘surfers’ in His care 

Then since, beyond our control

The toll of time rolls like the sea

Surely the faith that makes us whole

Is our sole/soul security

 

© Janet Martin 

Matthew 8:26
"You of little faith," Jesus replied, "why are you so afraid?" 

Then He got up and rebuked the winds and the sea, 

and it was perfectly calm.

There are SO many seasons in life not marked by a calendar!

For whatever season we are in here's hoping

we have a Friend to weather whatever the weather be...

What a Friend We Have in Jesus

For Watchmen/Women of the Flowered Bower/Bow-er

This poem is an out-pouring of love

 for a world full of children

who begin so purely but must soon and surely 

choose for themselves

who they will serve/trust 

As we who watch for dawn to rend yon regions steeped in dark...

And siphon from the silhouette of trees the singing lark (or harsh shriek of blue jays😀)

...as we who wait for baited bud to break

Alas, perfection cannot keep nature's fiat at bay...

As we who wait for baited bud to break and thus disclose

The essence of a Presence suggested in ev’ry rose 

Alas, perfection cannot keep nature’s fiat at bay 

No matter how pure life begins it is time’s ceaseless prey 

Where influence of elements and matrix of demise 

Will soon convey the evidence of death’s flowery disguise 

As we who watch for dawn to rend yon regions, steeped in dark 

And siphon from the silhouette of trees the singing lark 

Where birth is the beginning of what none can circumvent 

Farewell is always thinning the fabric of Therefore’s tent 

And perception is often blinded by what eyes behold 

Though This is but the catalyst that twists and breaks the mold 

As a mother who keeps account of her forever-child 

Always on earnest guard because this hard world is defiled 

And bent, it seems on robbing dreamers of their innocence 

She prays for mercies multiplied against pride’s ignorance 

Because she knows how swift the petals of the rose adorn 

The sash of dust and ash beneath the branches of the thorn 

We are like gleaners in a field watered with prayers and tears 

Someday faith’s framework will be filled when Majesty appears 

Where roses never falter and the night will never fall 

When Time’s sorrow-stained altar will be crushed once and for all 

As paupers pray for Kindness, as the shepherd tends the lamb 

We watch and work and wait till the Fulfillment of I AM 

For someday every knee will bow and every tongue confess

That He is Lord; the soul will be stripped of its flowered dress

And Righteousness will reign forevermore; no enemy

Where death is not the end of life, nor grave the victory

As we who watch for bud to break or darkness borne away

We pray the more as we approach the coming of That Day

© Janet Martin 

Therefore judge nothing before the appointed time; wait until the Lord comes. 

He will bring to light what is hidden in darkness and will expose the motives of the heart. 

At that time each will receive their praise from God.

1 Cor.4:5

There Is No Denying This Genesis of Joy

“The world will never starve for want of wonders; 

but only for want of wonder.”

― G.K. Chesterton, Tremendous Trifles

A  child's joy is so pure!

There is no denying this; Children’s laughter, chatter, kiss 

Reminds us that happiness is not a complicated quest 

Fortune is not found in things; angels are not white with wings 

We can all feel rich as kings if we recognize life’s best 

Wonder is want satisfied; a relinquishing of pride 

As we set ourselves aside, caught off-guard by awe unchecked 

For there’s no denying this; He who authors wonder’s bliss 

Thus orchestrates the genesis of joy without defect 

Want is always on the hunt; at the mercy of the brunt 

Of discontentment’s blunt and insatiable emptiness 

There is no denying this; what a wonder, Wonder IS 

As a glimpse of God surprises us with happiness 

© Janet Martin 

Journey to Deeper Love and Gratitude

The older I get the more real and dear this cry of David becomes:

Psalm 130:1-4

Out of the depths I cry to you, Lord;

2 Lord, hear my voice.

Let your ears be attentive

to my cry for mercy.

3 If you, Lord, kept a record of sins,

Lord, who could stand?

4 But with you there is forgiveness,

so that we can, with reverence, serve you.

Give Me Jesus 

Life can be mean when left to means that seem to make first-impulse-sense 

When we react without weighing the impact of the consequence 

We tend to think after the chink in faulty armour is exposed 

Rather than first examine best and worst outcome scenarios 

To test the measure of time’s treasure that slips through us breath by breath 

Is an awak’ning undertaking that could scare us half to death 

Because the laws of cause and effect are not tricked by time or rank 

Where the reaping is in keeping with the kind of seeds we plant 

To think that we can wink at wisdom and somehow not pay the price 

Or that desire is no liar when it ignores sound advice 

Is but to play the fool most truly no matter how cool it seems 

For consequence compensates duly what conscience and choice esteems 

If God kept tally of our folly who could stand and who could pay 

But to repentance he grants pardon and His strength to face the day 

Love incomparable makes bearable the harvest, not subdued 

Obedience, the evidence of love and humble gratitude 

© Janet Martin 

All Fellow-Bumpkins

So much anger,

division, diversion,

strong opinion leading to violence 

instead

of searching the scriptures

(therein lie the answers)

Instead of kneeling

before God

with bowed heart and head

May this be a day where we say little 

and love and pray much!

Where we exchange opinion 

for obedience

anger for grace, 

and gentleness and such

A day when 'love thy neighbor' 

is more than 

The Second-greatest command

May today be a step 

in the right direction

by unclenching fists

and shaking a hand

Now all has been heard; here is the conclusion of the matter: 

Fear God and keep his commandments, 

for this is the duty of all mankind.

Eccles.12:13

this is me...

home-body, home-maker,

prefer coffee to tea...

 

...but the thing to remember

whether you or me

There's so much more to all of us

than anyone can see!!

What makes you tick 

What makes me tock 

Is varied as 

The streets we walk 

But culture, country, 

Creed or race 

We are all bumpkins 

Of God’s grace 

Some like the beat 

Of city street 

Some seek the 

Solitude of books 

Or lanes or brooks 

Or other nooks 

Beyond the noise 

Of horns and looks 

Tis quite a tousled 

Thoroughfare 

This garden of 

Humanity 

But no matter 

Who, when or where 

The same God cares 

For you and me 

Some of us rich 

Or poor or plain 

Or vain with very 

Fine façade 

But that is quite 

Beside the point 

We are all bumpkins 

Needing God 

This country we 

Call time and place 

Is but a stepping- 

Stone you see 

Before God reaches 

Down and plucks 

Us from here

To eternity 

Some roll with life’s 

Punches, some hide 

Some deny Truth 

And think they win 

But we, all bumpkins 

God-designed 

Cannot escape 

The soul within 

So whether loud 

Or shy or proud 

Or meek, small, tall 

Weak, strong, mean, kind 

We have one thing 

In common, dear 

All fellow-bumpkins 

God designed 

© Janet Martin

...so hello, fellow bumpkin😁