I Don't Believe in Luck

Playing a bit of catch-up on Writer's Digest's Poem-a-day prompts.

This was prompt 13: Write a luck poem

(still unable to log in to their site.

Nothing works. not reset saved passwords. Nothing)

"I believe in the One who steals our breath with majesty

His handiwork second to none on sod and sky and sea"

I don’t believe in four-leaf-clovers, charms like rabbit’s feet 

Or leaves of tea or stars aligned or fate or Easy Street 

Or roll of dice or pennies tossed into a wishing well 

I believe what must be will be and time enough will tell 

I believe in discretion, common sense and honesty 

That by the grace of God we go and ought to revere He 

Who grants the chance to choose this day who we will honour best 

I believe we should watch and pray and trust Him for the rest 

He knows the very numbers of the hairs upon our head

No matter what naysayers say we know God is not dead

I don't believe in horseshoes or in the luck of the draw

I believe in the kindly keep of  He whose love is law

I believe in the One who steals our breath with Majesty

His handiwork second to none on sod and sky and sea

I don't believe in luck; the gamble of all it entails

I believe in the grace of God whose goodness never fails

© Janet Martin

Glorify the Lord with me;
    let us exalt his name together...

Taste and see that the Lord is good;
    blessed is the one who takes refuge in him.
 Fear the Lord, you his holy people,
    for those who fear him lack nothing.
 The lions may grow weak and hungry,
    but those who seek the Lord lack no good thing.

Psalm 34:3&8-10

I Believe In Christ

I Remember Spring

Writer's digest PAD Challenge 14:

For today’s prompt, write a memory poem.

I remember spring

The green of love and life

 Where thought unfurled a wonder-world

Of dream-streams running rife 

I remember spring

When time seemed on my side

Before it drew youth's years into

Its unrelenting tide

I remember spring

Uninhibited grin

Before the scars from fallen stars

Etched wisdom's start within 

I remember spring

Then summer came and went

Now Autumn's leaf I know is brief

Ere I am winter-bent

(optional)

I am Autumn-content

Long gone, spring's budding trees

That soft unfurled a wonder-world

Of moments such as these

or

Of precious memories

 

© Janet Martin

Meaning of More

Writer's Digest PAD Challenge 15:

For today’s prompt, take the phrase

"Meaning of (blank)," replace the blank with a word or phrase,

make the new phrase the title of your poem, 

and then, write your poem.

More Love to Thee

More Time said He who holds the key

That bolts the lease of days and years

More time said He; eternity

A destiny that

 never disappears

More grace said He who set us free

From debt of sin with his own blood

More grace said He; oh let there be

More who believe 

The grace of God

More love, Ah Me, that cannot be

Impossible, I AM's increase

Of All in all's totality

Of hope and joy,

Of life and peace

More love, more love, I cried to He

Who gave His all through love for me

More love for thee; oh let me be

A testimony of

Your love for me

© Janet Martin

The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: 

I am come that they might have life,

 and that they might have it more abundantly.

John 10:10

Awesome Advocate

Jim called a few minutes ago while I was 'finessing' this post

with a cool little reminder of God's goodness, mercy and faithfulness

to wherever we are; even shoveling manure! 

He had just finished cleaning out his trailer with a less

than ideal fork because someone 'borrowed' his good one...

the manure was deep and heavy and

he felt extremely oppressed by despair, fatigue and fuming frustration!

Then his phone dinged; it was the verse of the day;

1 Peter 5: 6-8

Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, 

so that in due time He may exalt you. 

7Cast all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you. 

8Be sober-minded and alert. 

Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, 

seeking someone to devour.…

And it completely changed his focus!

He decided to call and see if by any chance

I was marveling over the morning in poem...😄

The scorner only sees a sky

Where Mercy's fountains brim

To fill the framework of the eye

With Outer Fringe of Him

And these are but the outer fringe of his works;
    how faint the whisper we hear of him!
    Who then can understand the thunder of his power?

Job 26:14

Emblazoned on the heavens, Mercy authorizes dawn 

As dark with gold is riven by a Hand we cannot see 

And from a sacred Ledger, one more page of time is drawn 

To keep the pledge God made to Noah and his family 

‘As long as earth remains… the day and night will never cease’ 

As long as grace sustains the channels of time’s fleeting lease 

We, beneath this divine allotment are all called by Him 

Though He is oft forgotten in the thick of common need 

While celestial inkwells with His Advocation brim 

Where God is ever-faithful in all that He has decreed 

Then ought we not with humble yearning seek to keep our ‘yes’ 

To He who is not slack concerning all His promises 

This precious interlude between the cradle and the grave 

Where tokens of mercy renewed each morning floods the air 

Is far more than The Thinning Dark as night is turned to day 

It is the Ark still open for all to heed and prepare 

Where recompense to our response is drawing very near 

…the extent of Souled audience far more than we appear 

© Janet Martin

Mercies New Every Morning Matt Redman

Imagine That!

Inspired by this golden nugget...

This lovely gem came out of a box of Kleenex my sister gave to me;

She had opened up the end of the box carefully, pulled out the stack of Kleenexes

slid poems, quotes, humorous stories etc. in the folds between the Kleenex, 

then put it all back inside the box and re-glued the side shut.

Voila! a great, sweet, long-enjoyed gift

I only take a  Kleenex from that box

to 'treat' myself.

The above snippet was last night's treat after feeling a little down after

some recent headlines and much quick commentary;

some not so very kind.

Imagine if in place of slights and bites and prejudice 

We simply treated others like we would, they treated us 

Imagine if, (because we have not walked in their worn shoes) 

We didn’t form conclusions based on our own point of views 

Imagine if we weren’t so quick to pick up Judgement’s rod 

But simply loved and left the repercussions up to God 

Imagine if we chose to grant the benefit of doubt 

And sought only good thoughts and strove to sweep all others out 

Imagine if we would be courteous, with cheerful face 

And valued one another with encouragement and grace 

Imagine if we only reached out with a Servant’s touch 

Instead of criticism, or of back-stabbing and such 

Imagine what a wonderful world this would start to be 

If I began to treat you like I hope you would treat me 

Imagine if, for no other sake but our fellowman 

We shouldered our ‘rise ’n shine’ and pursued our ‘plan’ 

Imagine, if we reined in scornful words, sarcastic quips 

And everywhere we turned were helping hands and smiling lips 

Imagine what a sweeter, kinder old world this would be 

If by God’s grace I loved you like I hope you will love me 

© Janet Martin 

The Golden Rule

Matt.7:12

“So whatever you wish that others would do to you, 

do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets.

A Love Poem (for parents)

 We celebrated Mom's birthday yesterday, a little late...

I tucked this poem in her card and hope

she will read between the lines...

for things words wouldn't will.

Sometimes the heart is full of art that cannot find a way 

To spell in ink the things we think but don’t know how to say 

’I love you’, ‘I am sorry’, ‘thank-you for all that you do’ 

Seem far too small to convey all that I would like it to 

The things we learn where living’s no-return is running rife 

Often humbles opinion with stumbles and facts of life 

But we are not so quick to pick up stones in self-defense 

As we begin to gather in the sheaves of recompense 

The past is a vast book we should look at, but not retrace 

Except to see with clarity the goodness of God’s grace 

And where we lack the perfect knack to spell our utter thanks 

We trust in love to be enough to fill in all the blanks 

© Janet Martin

“‘“The Lord bless you
    and keep you;
25 the Lord make his face shine on you
    and be gracious to you;
26 the Lord turn his face toward you
    and give you peace.”’

Num.6:24-26

This Is November

Last Post and Rouse

"This is November; the month to remember 

All those who fought for ‘true North strong and free’ "

What a blessing to be able to

cherish life's loveliness-es in a country where we are free to do so!

Free (covid-restrictions aside) to come and go as we please!

This freedom comes at a great price!

Lest We Forget

This is the season of silver-silk haloes 

Crowning milkweed in gauzy silhouettes 

Landscapes a-glimmer with stubble and furrows 

Shadows soft-stenciled like penciled vignettes 

This is the season of silence. Leaf-laughter 

Snuffed like a flicker from each woodland wick 

Now our senses are drawn to a rafter 

Now blue, now gray, now Day cut to the quick 

This is the season of tender surrender 

Baring of secrets that full foliage kept 

Doffed of the flower but never the splendor 

Where leaf-confetti is scattered and swept 

This is the season of Nature’s stark beauty 

Before heavens unfurl winter’s oriflamme 

Flinging white featherdown o’er town and country 

Muffling the brittle ballad of Autumn

This is the season of brook song refurbished 

Gone to seed thistle-weed-parachute flight 

Caught on a current of sunbeams, dusk-burnished 

Glint of gold gossamer soon lost to sight 

This is the season of Collected Treasure

Bloom dappled meadow, an echo of Thought

Playing back pictures of picnic-lunch pleasure 

Crooning a postlude of  'forget-me-not'

This is November; the month to remember 

All those who fought for ‘true North strong and free’ 

This is November; the last glowing ember 

On a hearth kindled with Expectancy 

© Janet Martin

An Oldie to remind us there is 

No 'Free' in Freedom

Somber and steady up a tree-lined street

A stream of solemn soldier-ranks are led,

As sun-beams dance to the drummer’s beat

Filtering through the branches overhead

Beyond the tears and past the arc of trees

The music of a small child’s laughter swells

Stark contrast to the mourning infantry

Bowing beneath the tolling of the bells

Then, as the weeping bag-pipe song exalts

The melody of sweet Amazing Grace

Then, as the banner-covered coffin halts

For it has reached its final resting place

Then, as the last note fades the cannon flies

Its echo fills the air from shore to shore

Yet pales in the wake of a mother’s cries

“There is no ‘free’ in freedom anymore

Put down your banners, lay down your guns

My sweet baby boy has died

Tributes, salutes, many battles won

Won’t bring him back” she cried

“Take away all the roses for nothing will be

Like it ever was before

The price of freedom is too hard for me

There is no ‘free’ in freedom anymore”

Freedom (part two)

Upon Golgotha’s rocky skull-strewn trail

A teaming, screaming throng of hatred surged

Swarming around a form blood-bathed and pale

Upon a place called Calvary they converged

Wild, wild with rage wages hate’s vicious roar

No one remains to defend Love unbound

Stark contrast to the cheers and praise before

Where palm-tree branches waved and decked the ground

Then as the violent blows of steel on steel

Accentuates the horror on the hill

Then, as they drive in hatred nail by nail

Against Love’s cries of ‘Father, not My will’

Then, as they praised and raised Life’s blood-stained cross

In victory, death’s maddened thousands roar

As Mary, his mother weeps for her loss

“There is no ‘free’ in freedom anymore

Take away your hammers, lay down your swords

My dear precious son has died”

As the lightning flashed and the thunder roared

There at His feet she cried

“Take away all your hatred, your jeers and chanting

For you have slain my Lord

Take away all your weapons and cease your ranting

There is no ‘free’ in freedom anymore”

There is no ‘free’ in freedom, Love pays a price

Where hellish horrors run

There is no ‘free’ in freedom, its sacrifice

Save in Christ, is never done

There is no ‘free’ in freedom, red the river

That flows on its behalf

There is no 'free' in freedom; its signature

A blood-stained autograph

© Janet Martin

Prayer-power

 

I urge, then, first of all, that petitions, prayers, intercession 

and thanksgiving be made for all people— 

1 Tim.2:1

last week's list just keeps growing!!

Did you feel God’s arms surround you with an ineffable peace? 

When the cry of my heart found you did your weight of worry cease? 

Did you sense Someone far greater step beneath your heavy load? 

Did you meet with your Creator on fear’s dark Jericho Road? 

Did you wonder at the whisper that seemed to come from thin air? 

Did you recognize your Master as He ministered through prayer? 

Did you feel His arms around you as you struggled up faith’s hill? 

When the cry of my heart found you, did He whisper ‘peace be still’? 

© Janet Martin

Our Father who art in Heaven

Grant us the courage to pray 

Thy Will be done

And faith to trust Your reply

For Thine is the Kingdom,

The power and

the glory,

 forever and ever,

Amen

One of my favorite renditions of this song!

Peace, Be Still