Aren't you Glad Too?

Yahoo! I just had another baby!

Kidding😂

but sometimes that's kinda what it feel like 

when another poem is born;

Oh, the joy after the labor and the delivery💖💖💖

And no matter what composes picture-shows of 'life we’ve had'

On dawn’s skyline beams Beginning of a new day, aren’t you glad?

Sometimes Jim (husband) teases me over the plethora of sunrise pictures shared here,

but in my defense, 

I never want to get so jaded that I am no longer awed by The Utterly Awesome!

(and Jim agrees)

Aren’t you glad today is never replayed from dusk’s low’ring door?

That each bud of bloom delivers beauty not beheld before

That the glorious hope of Heaven waits at death if we believe

Not the cradle to be given one more lifetime to achieve

Aren’t you glad we start as babies; not yet set in our ways

That God’s mercy new each morning never His goodness betrays

That His Word is everlasting, not keeping pace with the times

Not like shifting cast of shadows, but steadfast as mountain climes

Aren’t you glad that we are never too old to learn something new

That the seasons keep their order, spring-summer-fall-winter through

That sunrise and set are always out of reach of fingertips

Set before our gaze to author praise from amazed hearts and lips

Aren’t you glad for cuppa something steaming, books and cozy nooks

For chatter and laughter brimming from sparkling children and brooks

That as we are growing older God surprises us with joy

Impossible to discover as a younger girl or boy

Aren’t you glad for socks and mittens, kitten-puppy happiness

For delight when the response to our ‘please’ replies with ‘yes’

For tap-dancers made of raindrops, shoeless freedom of bare feet

For the fervor of the vision and thrill of mission complete

For a table set for dinner for two, or for company

For redemption for the sinner; aren’t you glad God sets us free

For the poetry of wonder making ordinary Grand

For the feeling of belonging when we traverse hand in hand

Aren’t you glad today is never replayed; yesterday unbound

Even best days wouldn’t be as sweet the second time around

And no matter what composes picture-shows of 'life we’ve had'

On dawn’s skyline beams Beginning of a New Day, aren’t you glad?

© Janet Martin

And below

a glorious Glad Song

Psalm 113

Hallelujah!

Give praise, O servants of the LORD;

praise the name of the LORD.

Blessed be the name of the LORD

both now and forevermore.

From where the sun rises to where it sets,

the name of the LORD is praised.

The LORD is exalted over all the nations,

His glory above the heavens.

Who is like the LORD our God,

the One enthroned on high?

He humbles Himself to behold

the heavens and the earth.

He raises the poor from the dust

and lifts the needy from the dump

to seat them with nobles,

with the princes of His people.

He settles the barren woman in her home

as a joyful mother to her children.

Hallelujah!

Aren't you glad too,

That sunrise and set are always out of reach of fingertips

Set before our gaze to author praise from amazed hearts and lips

Notice how the sun no longer rises across the field

like it did a month ago?!

A sure sign that winter is trundling toward spring!

And last but not least,

did you know you are one of the rare people who pauses on this porch?

I would like to tell you thank-you!

I am so glad you do because as George MacDonald once penned...

A poet is a man (or woman) who is glad of something

and tries to make other people glad of it too!

George MacDonald~

A-a-ah! Awe-Aura or Tribute to Twilight

When the eastern skyline looks like this at dusk

then I know something pretty spectacular is going on in the west!

I ran upstairs and sure enough...

so I dashed downstairs, grabbed a coat, 

jumped into boots and hurried behind the house...

and even in that mere minute 

some of Farewell's flare was beginning to fade...

(Yes! I'll take the teaser!

although I confess there are times I wish I could snap my fingers,

say abracadabra,

and make the buildings disappear for a little,

then snap them again and put them back😅)

Time’s aura of farewell 

fills up 

the stillness of the sky

an artist spills 

to hill and dell 

a pastel lullaby

the aftermath of day 

composes poetry 

sublime

yet without parchment page 

or merge of syllable 

and rhyme

on a canvas 

devoid of substance 

flaming strokes 

release

to awe onlookers 

with the gift

 of 

One More 

Masterpiece

© Janet Martin

Wonder-Full

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him,

 so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Romans 15:13

A glimpse at what has overflowed my cup of  hope (aka wonder and joy)

in the past few days...

Winner of the American Express Golf Tournament...

with his son who kept saying 'daddy, let's go see the ducks and geese' (swimming nearby)

completely oblivious to the interview/er about his daddy's shining hour💖

Guess which part of the pumpkin-raisin muffin tot preferred😂

These pics but surface skimmings!!

A few more below!

How does one choose a few from thousands?!!

(h-m-m, is that what God says as He chooses our mercies new each morning?!)

('how does one choose a few from trillions?')

The wonder of the Giver’s love is up to us to find

His promises bring happiness to heart and soul and mind

To we who seek, God’s goodness leaps to cheer the common-place

To sweeten life amidst the toil and strife of truth and grace

To wonder is faith’s sacred bliss; a diamond in the dirt

Of learning how to find the ‘wow’ in hope’s heartache and hurt

How to be awed by Holy God where His kind mercies brim

Our burden but the needful ‘what’ to keep us tuned to Him

The wonder of the Giver’s love bids us to be content

To marvel where the very air we breathe is Heaven-lent

To take the time to be sublimely surprised by the ‘small’

And to begin to barely skim the wonder of it all

The wonder of God is enough to combat wonder’s foe

Where sin would be an enemy we could not overthrow

But, by God’s grace He helps us trace the shadow of His pow’r

As to love’s grief He pins a leaf, bird-symphony, a flow’r

© Janet Martin

(this passage is entitled The God Given Task)

Eccles.3:9-14

What profit has the worker from that in which he labors? 

10 I have seen the God-given task with which the sons of men are to be occupied. 

11 He has made everything beautiful in its time. 

Also He has put eternity in their hearts, 

except that no one can find out the work that God does from beginning to end.

12 I know that nothing is better for them than to rejoice, and to do good in their lives, 

13 and also that every man should eat and drink and enjoy the good of all his labor—

it is the gift of God.

14 I know that whatever God does,

It shall be forever.

Nothing can be added to it,

And nothing taken from it.

God does it, that men should fear before Him.

and the conclusion is entitled:

The Whole Duty of Man

9 And moreover, because the Preacher was wise, he still taught the people knowledge; 

yes, he pondered and sought out and set[c] in order many proverbs. 

10 The Preacher sought to find [d]acceptable words; 

and what was written was upright—words of truth. 

11 The words of the wise are like goads, 

and the words of [e]scholars are like well-driven nails, given by one Shepherd. 

12 And further, my son, be admonished by these. 

Of making many books there is no end, and much study is wearisome to the flesh.

13 Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter:

Fear God and keep His commandments,

For this is man’s all.

14 For God will bring every work into judgment,

Including every secret thing,

Whether good or evil.

From the book Susie, Life and Legacy of Susannah Spurgeon

Relentless Gladness or For The Sake of Souls Still Lost

Psalm 51:7

Purify me with hyssop, and I will be clean; 

wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.

(whiter than snow?!! Can you imagine it?)

We are in a snow-white world today in Ontario!

Well, on closer scrutiny, white that dons hues of blues and golds!

Gorgeous!

“Come now, let us settle the matter,” says the LORD. 

“Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; 

though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool.

Isa.1:18

This world is so full of madness, evil scheme and rebel pride

Yet, through grace, relentless gladness of faith, hope and love abide

For greater is He within us than the meanness of the age

We have victory in Jesus even while vile battles rage

Come, let us reason together whether young, old, rich or poor

Take the yoke that mercy tethers to the Hand, scarred and secure

He who walked in Eden’s Garden where guilt sought to hide away

Will still sorry sinner pardon; harden not your heart today

Though our stains of sin are scarlet he will wash us white as snow

Break the chain that binds the harlot to the chamber of the foe

This is no trite invitation when Christ calls, ‘come unto Me’

The seal of the soul's salvation drenched the cross of Calvary

Yet with grace-empowered patience God restrains the trumpet sound

And the face-to-face acquaintance of His own gathered around

For this world so full of madness, suffering and trouble-tossed

He delays That Day of Gladness, for the sake of souls still lost

Faith is fitted for the hour, not by the power of man

But by He who did not cower when confronted with Love's Plan/hate's clan

He did not claim the advantage of equality with God

But beheld beyond death's vantage, its defeat and triumph's laud

© Janet Martin

Womanly Unique

 Two lovely ladies from our church have created

The Mosaic Podcast (beauty created from brokenness)

Every single guest leaves me with a feeling of woman-to-woman kinship, 

not in everything but in something, 

because as women, in spite of all our differences

we have so much uniquely in common!

Right?

So, woman to woman,

Let’s not let our differences 

destroy our common ground

We may not all be kindred spirits, 

but still we are bound

By something womanly unique 

that leaves a man perplexed

Because they never know for sure 

what we will think of next

😅

Janet~  

I'm kinda glad Jim didn't see me climb a tree in boots with heels

with a coffee in my hand

to have a little dusk-soak a few dusks ago....

(the tree climbing was not preplanned 

or I would have chosen more practical footwear)😊

Cheers!

Window-wonder...

When we got our dumping of snow last week

I asked my daughter who lives in the city rather than the countryside

what her street looks like and she sent me a few pictures from her window...

her window has kept her bedroom/slash office

from feeling like a jail-cell during lockdowns!

So let's celebrate windows today!

A few days ago when I visited my husband's mother I admired her geraniums plants,

reminding me of children with eager faces pressed to the window! (no photo though!)

My mother-in-law, frail with age spends each day in her chair by the window

watching the birds and activity of farm-life...

birds are busy but farm-life is rather more relaxed/quiet this time of year.

Last month I took a few pictures of my friend's windows...

 

Something about the sparseness of this window and surroundings was so enchanting...

an old rocking chair and a lamp on the sill in a room of an apartment 

they were about to get ready for her son to move into...

I also enjoy a Facebook group called Out My Window...

Our front Livingroom window...

back Livingroom window...

Laundry-room window...(below)

By the way, let me know if you live close to me

if you would like an aloe-vera plant.

the momma-plants keep having babies!!😅

one of our Kitchen windows...

A window frames the seasons as they slip across the land

The morning ushered in by He who is first in command

Where beauty of the earth and sky rouses ageless delight

To keen and satisfy desire’s deepest appetite

A window is the gateway for sunlight to fill the room

To keep indoors from feeling like a dungeon or a tomb

Where city street or countryside unfurls before our gaze

Where sills invite a flowerpot or freshly picked bouquets

...an altar where we pause to pray or sit to read a bit

A place to admire the way that birds twitter and flit

Where smudge and kiss of children's hands and faces warm the heart  

As mother smiles while others might be prone to miss the 'art'   

A window makes the poor man rich as thankfulness beholds

The landscape like a counterpane that Break of Day unfolds

As heavens overflow and frameworks that were black before

Are filled with pictures of the world outside our door once more

© Janet Martin

Where smudge and kiss of children's hands and faces warm the heart  

As mother (or gramma or childcare-giver) smiles 

while others might be prone to miss the 'art'   

(hard to believe that a month ago we had no snow!!)

Daniel 6:10

Now when Daniel knew that the writing was signed, he went into his house; 

and his windows being open in his chamber toward Jerusalem, 

he kneeled upon his knees three times a day, 

and prayed, and gave thanks before his God, as he did aforetime.

Jazz and snowy window...

I'm adding a few more photos taken a few hours after 

I first posted this...captured through the window

 while I chatted with my mother on the phone...

Morning Commission/Submission/Mission-Statement

Someone just posted this on our church-family Facebook page...

Praying this for my friend Pauline today,

and for my cousin Wayne and his family

who continue to need our prayers for encouragement

 in his and their ongoing long suffering!

I'm still reading the book about Charles H. Spurgeon's wife, Susie's life...

and am utterly inspired and astonished at the humility and faithfulness in their devotion

to their Lord and Saviour, through so much sickness, pain and hardship!

My friend's recent illness which caused her to miss her son's wedding last Saturday

fills our hearts and prayers with pitying pleas for God's sufficient grace to sustain her...

Praying for healing and health so she may attend her next son's wedding in February.

Will you pray too, for her strength for today?

Yon tray soft-tilts to gilt the eastward edge of earth and sky

Dawn’s blushing fringe expands to tinge then wash the night awry

Where star-eyed hope and dream is like the little lark that sings

Before the darkness disappears and morning spreads its wings

Where mercy never falters, to altars of human hearts

God’s everlasting goodness His unfailing love imparts

His grace provides the sacrifice for worship’s offerings

Always sufficient for the mission that each new day brings

Dawn tilts a tray of gold and gray; ahoy, with joy we rise

To take up the cross of today with grace our God supplies

He does not leave us comfortless or helpless in the strife

Goodness and mercy follows us all the days of our life

© Janet Martin

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:

and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

Psalm 23:6

Of Barren Page

I never know what waits each morning to fill the 'barren page'...

Do you?

But one thing I endeavor always; to pray before I touch it!

Do you?

As I wrestled with what today's poem would be

the sky softened and ink and light unfurled

in a tender tango of waking poem and world...

We are all poets in a sense...

some intense in our adherence to strict measures of time

others are free as the wind, these versifiers paying

no heed to things such as meter and rhyme

but...

Be careful dear

the now and here

soon sheds its heady bloom

but cannot quell

the drops that fell 

in poetry and plume

The beckoning of barren page is like a garden plot

Waiting the plant and printed wage of seed and ink unfurled

The poetry of plume and pen gladdens our eyes and thought

Where bowers brim with bloom again in spite of winter’s world

The lure of barren page is like a bud not opened yet

Or like a gift, before we tug the wrapping from its smile

Or like the skyline stoked with daybreak’s stoic silhouette

Keen expectation trembles where still-veiled vistas beguile

The potential of barren page is like a fallow field

Or summer in the silent, snow-white stage of its prelude

A seed or word may seem so small, but, what a mighty yield

Instills the syllables that fall on halls not long subdued

The grace of barren page is like God’s gift of brand-new day

Where soon we spill to its façade, deed’s seeds, thought’s drops of ink

Where masterpieces wait to be; then oh, we ought to pray

Because love’s plume and poetry begin by what we think

© Janet Martin

Phil.4:8

Finally, brothers and sisters, 

whatever is true, 

whatever is noble, 

whatever is right, 

whatever is pure,

 whatever is lovely, 

whatever is admirable—

if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—

think about such things.