Monday, June 14, 2021

I Was Glad When They Said Unto Me...



I was glad when they said unto me, 
Let us go into the house of the Lord.
Psalm 122:1




I was glad when they said unto me
Let us go to the house of the Lord
 Let us worship He who has set sinners free
 With humble devotion outpoured

I was glad when they said unto me
Lockdown restrictions have eased
Fifteen percent of capacity
Will keep the health-board kindly pleased

I was glad when they said unto me
You may go now and sit in the pews
Six feet apart (but with God's family)
Cherishing Mercy's Good News  

I was glad when they said unto me
Assemble together once more
Come, kneel at the cross of Calvary
Think of the anguish He bore

Honour the Maker of heaven and earth
Precious Savior of the soul
Fellowship sweetly, rejoice in the worth
 Of faith that makes believers whole

Ponder, with wonder His love, full and free
Delight at the sound of His Word
Sing, 'I was glad when they said unto me
Let us go to the house of the Lord'

To lift up glad voices in hymns dear and true
To lift the roof with worship's chord
I was so glad, oh weren't you too?
To go to the house of the Lord

(I wish this last verse was true...maybe next week?)

I was glad to see parking lots packed
Standing room only outside
As people gathered, starved for what they lacked
Worshipping Christ crucified
Worshipping Christ, unified


© Janet Martin





Life's Little Ways...

Yesterday our pastor asked me if I have any poems in the works 
and I am always caught completely off-guard when someone refers to that topic 
and I think I stuttered something about
 'usually I have something in the works because its just the way I 'tick' or process life',.
(I wish I was witty and could have thought of something to say like,
 'do you have any sermons in the works?',
 but on second thought, that might come off as a bit smart-alecky...sigh. here I go,
 second-guessing and over-thinking. Two of my main weaknesses) 
I then added, referring to his message that I just got a lot more to process
.(I didn't add, 'hopefully into poetry', but it's what I partly hoped God would allow. 
Poems turn lessons I might otherwise forget into keepsakes.
One of his points in yesterday's message was
 'whose agenda are we/am I focused on, mine or God's?' 
 It ties in well with a book I just started reading by Andrew Peterson entitled, 
Adorning the Dark...
The writer challenges us to 'seek first the kingdom of God' not
only in everyday life but also especially when it comes 
to the creative part of our being such as writing.



Life lends us lots of little ways to prove who we love most
The Giver of our numbered days tests desire and boast
Where godliness/holiness and gratitude/attitude must war against the flesh
Lest passions, sly and unsubdued inveigle and enmesh

How wily is the voice of Want; it beckons and beguiles
How subtle the silver-tongued taunt that first thrills, then defiles
How careful, prayerful we should weigh ambition’s catalyst
The tempter sweetly stalks his prey with poison, sugar-kissed

Life lends us lots of little ways to learn what it would teach
Mercy heaps morning’s gleaming trays, no one beyond His reach
He is a gracious God of love to we, accountable
For all the little ways we prove who we love most of all

© Janet Martin

Seek ye first
the kingdom of God
and His righteousness
and all these things
shall be added
unto you.
Matt.6:33

Every day God shows us in so many little ways 
how much he loves us
Oh, may the same be true about us, for Him!


Sunday, June 13, 2021

Balancing Hurry and Peony...oops I mean Poetry...


To peer into a peony
Grants us a glimpse of God...

Social media is full of pictures of peony delight these days
and with good reason, because peony-season is stunning and brief
and its precious joy too pretty not to share!


Hurry-hurry, and poetry do not go hand in hand
Time flies; while I must learn to slow my pace and feel the sand
That slips through fingertips, then seasons, like a starry sea
Where echo-petals fall to halls of haste’s necessity

Hurry-hurry and poetry are hard to mediate
While one hand wants to loiter the other scolds ‘don’t be late’
The gate to dreamy meadowlands oft blocked by Duty’s bars
While all the while life’s silver sands run rife with Beauty’s stars

Hurry-hurry and poetry ignite a tug of war
One winks with possibility, one wields work’s common chore
One feeds the soul, one feeds the mouth, both play a vital part
In maintaining a healthy balance of body and heart

Hurry-hurry and poetry must learn to coexist
Ecclesiastic vanity unfurls its painted mist
Where Sacred Immortality is near, as near can be
Thus, life too short to waste in haste and miss its poetry

© Janet Martin

May your day of rest be blessed with a break from 'hurry'
and whether the poetry you delight in is found on a page or in a peony,
enjoy and give God thanks!

So, so thankful for a day of Sabbath-rest!
Thank-you God, for your perfect order.
(so thankful to be able to worship
with fellow-believers in person today, 
after long lock-down restrictions
have been lifted to allow fifteen percent)

Ex.20:8-11
Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy.
 Six days shalt thou labour, and do all thy work:
 But the seventh day is the sabbath of the Lord thy God: 
in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, 
thy manservant, nor thy maidservant, nor thy cattle,
 nor thy stranger that is within thy gates:
For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is,
 and rested the seventh day: 
wherefore the Lord blessed the sabbath day, and hallowed it.




Saturday, June 12, 2021

Poem-Thunder


On a picture-perfect June Saturday with lots to do
poetry thunders!
💗

A poem, is like a bouquet
Of peonies, soft pink...



Like bud that pulses, pops and spills
In green leaf canopy...



A poem is more than mere verse
More than meter and rhyme
It wrangles feelings into words
Melds common with sublime

It gathers moments that would fade
Without a second thought
Snared from seasons as they parade
Through graces, soon forgot

A poem takes us by the hand,
Nay, tugs at inner strings
Its truth, beauty and love withstands
The ever-change time brings

It courses through the utmost part
Of hearts; steeds, hunger-shod
Always showcasing, with word-art
The majesty of God

It preaches, teaches, reaches where
No naked eye can see
To storm Soul’s sacred thoroughfare
Hinged to eternity

A poem, from life’s ugliness
Of thorns that pierce and prick
Points out the blood-red loveliness
Of Hope’s rose-kindled wick

A poem thunders without sound
Through wonder's speechless gaze
Where wonder is the holy ground
Of worship's flawless praise

A poem, is like a bouquet
Of peonies, soft pink
It cheers a dark and dreary day
With petals made of ink

A poem celebrates the thrills
That fill the earth with glee
Like bud that pulses, pops and spills
In green leaf canopy

Like innocence of little child
Pirates of stolen breath
Where joy and sorrow drive us wild
With birth’s promise of death

Where insecurity and fear
Could smother happiness
Where we are altogether here
By the Creator’s ‘yes

Where, now and then, lest we turn blind
To Hands, (not without scar)
A poem can gently remind
Us how precious we are

© Janet Martin


Because your steadfast love
is better than life,
my lips will praise you!

A few more June joy-praises...




Friday, June 11, 2021

When Time No More Will Be

 



Due to a disappointing 'drop' I am back to using the phone camera for now...


Another day of grace
Rolls from dawn’s eastward shore
To each and every one of us
Till time will be no more

Till time will be no more
Not one of us can tell
When we will pass through Death’s dark door
Into Heaven or hell

Into Heaven or hell
There is no in between
Therefore, we ought to ponder well
What none on earth have seen

What none on earth have seen
Will fill eternity
How sacred is time’s go-between
God and humanity

God and humanity
Are never far apart
He grants each day of grace to we,
The darlings of his heart

The darlings of His heart
When Time No More will be
Will witness He who hangs His art
Where everyone can see

Where everyone can see
His sky-wide evidence
That the heaven's declare, so we
Cannot plead ignorance

© Janet Martin

After writing this I read this
Stunning.

Though you have not seen him, you love him; 
and even though you do not see him now, 
you believe in him.

1 Peter 1:3-9
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! 
In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope
 through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, 
 and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. 
This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, 
who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation
 that is ready to be revealed in the last time. 
 In all this you greatly rejoice, 
though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. 
 These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—
of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—
may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. 
 Though you have not seen him, you love him; 
and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him 
and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, 
 for you are receiving the end result of your faith, 
the salvation of your souls.

Thursday, June 10, 2021

Everlasting Masterpiece


My, how earth is filled with wonder
My, how birth delights our gaze...


Who waters the world with showers...


My, how You get our attention
Where the skies Your works proclaim...


June/the Creator of June throbs in hearts and earth 
with wealth of beauty and wonder!

June's jubilance always fades far too fast
but its Creator and His love are everlasting!
Isn't that our greatest joy of all?!

My, how You get our attention
Where the skies Your works proclaim
Where Beauty is the reflection
Of the love from whence we came

My, how earth is filled with wonder
My, how birth delights our gaze
Where burgeoning bud-vaults thunder
With an outpouring of praise

My, how often we forget You
While, though hemmed in by Your Hand
We begin to fret, and doubt You
For ways we can’t understand

Who can thread the loom of flowers?
Who instills the sower’s seed?
Who waters the world with showers?
Who, the morning has decreed?

Who can boast, but what is given?
Who can save man’s soul from hell?
Who of us can ascribe heaven?
Who the thoughts of You can tell?

You, the author of creation
And salvation's precious gift
You, faith's rock-solid Foundation
Who will not falter or shift 
  
My, how Your mercies surround us
Fount beneath and vault above
Hope within where you confound us
With an everlasting love

© Janet Martin

Jer.31:3

The LORD has appeared of old to me, saying: 
“Yes, I have loved you with an everlasting love; 
Therefore with lovingkindness I have drawn you.

Psalm 139:5

You hem me in behind and before,
and you lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain.

Wednesday, June 9, 2021

Of Love Well-lived (or Life Well-loved)

Better to be keenly aware
Of all the kindnesses that you bequeath...






Aware…of how you run your fingers through my hair so casually
And trace my face with lines without excuses or apology
Your touch, oh Father Time, is such, that none can tame or duck beneath
Better to be keenly aware
Of all the kindnesses that you bequeath

…in spite of all you steal and how we sometimes feel at loss for words
To spell the knell of farewell rolling through each season undeterred
Aware of heartstrings pulled and tugged in every tender way but loose
While a new generation fills
Our hugs and thrills to rhymes of Mother Goose

Aware of how vital prayer is; where we never know what we’ll meet
Aware of how your kiss, oh Father Time, is both bitter and sweet
And how the stage of middle age runs rife with life’s curious surprise
Aware of how a friend in deed
Is better than anything money buys

Aware that truth won’t change its mind no matter how we twist our pleas
Aware that youth will soon find out time is a mist of memories
And not on their side after all; as they turn into acrobats
Trying to balance hopes and dreams
On tight-ropes of less glam-matters of fact

Aware that our relationship should work in me, as years go by
A gentler attitude and more subdued approach to 'me' and 'my'
Because oh Father time, you are a teacher with uncanny ways
To reach beneath exteriors 
And turn want's restless passion into praise

Aware that we grow too soon auldt and too late schmart, as we become
The generation of old-farts/folk, out-of-fashion dad and mum
Aware that each day is a gift that we cannot afford to waste
But rather gather into hearts
The echo of fond, love-well-lived keepsakes

© Janet Martin

Two things I request of You
(Deprive me not before I die):
8Remove falsehood and lies far from me;
Give me neither poverty nor riches—
Feed me with the food allotted to me;
9Lest I be full and deny You,
And say, “Who is the Lord?”
Or lest I be poor and steal,
And profane the name of my God.

Tuesday, June 8, 2021

Lyric About Life

 

Happy Birthday, Emily💗
Twenty-nine years ago you made your dad and I parents!
Thank-you for its journey of joy, 
however unconventional joy's footpaths may be!😉😊

Last week as I chatted with a young mom she asked how it was
to have our second daughter home for a while
(she moved back to the city a week ago)
'It's so great' I replied.
 'While they grow up the focus is on parenting, training, etc.
With adult children it's friendship/relationship.
They know what we believe and support and what we don't.
(of course, it will always be friendship
under a mother's watchful eye and words of caution etc.
and a ton of prayers; those seem to increase, not decrease with the years)
but what a precious privilege to relate to our children,
adult to adult and stand with them
through life's highs and lows
by the grace of God.

Dear Emily,
God bless you on your special day
even though your son wailed and wailed last night,
begging you to skip your birthday because he doesn't want you to change😂
Unfortunately he is wishing for the impossible!
I pray for you, God's guidance through 
all the challenges and changes life is bound to bring!




Life leads us by the hand sometimes
In flowered nooks it bids us sit
A gladsome thing that makes us sing
And dance for the sheer joy of it

Life grabs us by the scruff sometimes
And sets us firmly in God’s grace
A heavy hand of reprimand
To remind us of our place

Life takes us in its arms sometimes
In kind, parental sympathy
To dry our tears and calm our fears
As we rest in God's sovereignty

Life is a teacher all the time
We never grow too old to learn
As highs and lows and joys and woes
Fill Bygone’s sheaf of no return

Life makes us older day by day
Pray that it makes us kinder too
As we embrace the Hand of grace
That every moment-gem runs through

…to forge the weight of wisdom’s crown
Then pray as yester-years increase
Beauty unveils what never fails
Love’s holy, humble Masterpiece

Life takes us by surprise sometimes
In spite of its muddle and mess
It fills the heart with life’s best part
Wild, unorthodox *thankfulness

© Janet Martin

* I first used the word 'happiness' instead of thankfulness
but changed it because without genuine thankfulness
genuine happiness is impossible!

“this is my prayer: 
that your love may abound more and more 
in knowledge and depth of insight, 
so that you may be able to discern what is best 
and may be pure and blameless until the day of Christ, 
filled with the fruit of righteousness 
that comes through Jesus Christ
—to the glory and praise of God.”