A 'Sweet Love' Song

  Happy Day-After-Valentine's Day

This poem was started on Monday

then, although I got up at six and went to bed at almost midnight

I did not get an opportunity to finish it on Valentine's Day

(as planned/hoped for on Monday!)

However, it was a day full of love,

 first childcare (including heart-puppet-creating and puppet-shows)

some eager helping...

...then going to look after my grandchildren in the evening

so their parents could have an extremely rare night out!

(photo above sent as a Happy Valentine's Day greeting yesterday morning courtesy of their mom)

Jim and I talked a few times yesterday but never about Valentine's Day!

When I got home last night I found this little reminder 

that he remembered, on my side of the bed.

(A bathrobe belt and leather belt heart😆💕😘)

He passed through the house while I was gone, 

for supper, a shower and fresh food and laundry supplies for the road. 

(all packed and ready to go because that's how we've done it for almost 35 years)

It's not fancy, but it works.

It Works-Alabama

 

(we've lived both these songs💕)

When we starting keeping score in marriage we are headed for disaster, right?!

What's the Score? Don Williams

Below, a sacred 'salute' to love!

💝

You teach me how to dance and sing,

To fall, to feast on tears

You preach from pulpits shimmering

With verge of yesteryears

You hold me close and charm me

With the friendship of hello

And with kisses disarm me

While I learn how to let go

You startle me with happiness

Too fragile for ink-font

From heart-shaped aftermath you press

Wisdom mingled with want

You haunt me with a presence

Half stranger, half family

And taunt me with an essence

Of familiarity

You make life worth the living

While accumulating scars

Where lessons of forgiving

Hone heart-shores with salty stars

You help me survive seasons

(not winter-spring-summer-fall)

By losing count of reasons

For the wonder of it all

You make sacred, the laughter

With sorrow for what is not

And drain to ever-after

Sparkles touched but never caught

You keep me humbly greedy

For more of Never Enough

Of learning to be needy

When it comes to you, sweet love

You tune me to the Giver

Of each good and perfect Gift

To Him, glory forever

His love does not wane or shift

But grants to every hour

Mercy; kind, longsuffering

For He is love; his power

Teaches me to dance and sing

© Janet Martin

1 Cor.13:13

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love.

 But the greatest of these is love.

Like a Love Song...

This morning's Old and New Testament readings

impresses on the reader the sacred sanctity of shed blood!

Lev. 17-18& Matt. 27:27-50

There Is a Fountain Filled With Blood

Lev.17:11

 ...for it is the blood that makes atonement for the soul.’ 

Matt.27:24-26

When Pilate saw that he could not prevail at all, 

but rather that a [c]tumult was rising, 

he took water and washed his hands before the multitude, saying, 

“I am innocent of the blood of this [d]just Person. You see to it.”

25 And all the people answered and said, 

“His blood be on us and on our children.”

26 Then he released Barabbas to them; 

and when he had [e]scourged Jesus, 

he delivered Him to be crucified.

***

Redemption streams 

for every sin

...repented of!!

God's promises

not slack concerning

...obedient love

***

God is not mocked

By grace we go

While ever reaping

What we sow

***

One grain of pride

Is enough to tumble

A lofty tower

ninety-nine percent humble

***

When we open the door to

What Leads to Sin

We let a host

of demons in

***

God's law does not author confusion

and chaos' increase

God's laws author order, holiness,

righteousness and peace

***

Like a love song from lips and lives

Like a tree bearing wholesome (holy) fruit

Like a fountain from which joy thrives

Through surrender’s stream-nourished root

May faithful, fervent worship spill

From hearts, ceaselessly awed by You

Because, oh God, we know Your will

Is ever trustworthy and true

Our times are in Your righteous hands

And in far higher thoughts and ways

Than human nature’s quick demands

That undermine repentant praise

You grant each day, mercy engraved

Then, bless the greatest name of all

The name whereby mankind is saved

From the curse wrought by Adam’s fall

Sinless and undefiled You bore

Sin’s pardon for all human race

Sin that is remembered no more

As we repent and receive grace

Then, as we believe in Your Word

To undergird, exhort and thrill

May, like a love song, undeterred

Obedient, true worship spill

© Janet Martin

Precious Prelude

Pondering the Precious today...

The sunshine sparked a bit of spring fever so,

down with winter decor 

and up with suggestions of spring!

A froth of fallen petals...

Tomorrow we are halfway through February!

A dash across the landscape

A splash upon the sea

A kiss of This soft-taking shape

And then eternity  

A mist upon yon meadow

As twist of scar-stitched shawls

Unravels the foreshadowing

'ere life’s last suture falls

Love's lilts of tears and laughter

Like quilts of grief and glee 

Hang from rafters where ever-after

Veils eternity 

A froth of fallen petals

A cloth of phantom tulle 

Enshrouds the dust that soon settles 

In the grave's solemn pull

A chattering of seasons

A smattering of stars

Before we behold life's reasons 

Only death's door unbars 

A war of mortal adieu

A score of days and then

Last breath, as Death transports us to

Eternity. Amen.

A very precious prelude

Lingers precariously

Upon the air not yet subdued

By vast eternity

Gate, noiselessly unbolted

Wait swallowed up in See

As each voice of Choice is jolted

Into eternity 

© Janet Martin

Precious (Un)Commonplace

There is nothing like sorrow for those who are suffering

to make one more aware of the spectacular beauty/grandeur of what we might dare

to call Ordinary or Commonplace!! 

Canvases of what at first glance may appear quite 'commonplace'

Are like gifts  from an Artist who entitles each print 'grace'...

These are  not simply chores.

They are gifts of grace.

This is not simply dinner. It is a gift of grace 

(esp. when there is someone to share it with!!)

In light of loss and disappointment, Commonplace confounds

Life is beheld through meeker eyes; Ordinary astounds

Where beauty knows no bounds; the earth and its fulness thereof

Compelling us to pay more kind and tender heed to love

In light of love misunderstood, love buffers bitter blows

And though the glove is pierced with thorns, the stem is crowned with rose

Whose beauty grows more fair-of-face as we begin to see

In Commonplace, sweet grace and mercy’s grand epitome

In light of dreams-never-come-true we view through thankful(er) sighs

The ground beneath our feet rife with extravagance to prize

Of hands to hold and tots to kiss, of gifted day-to-day

No Ordinariness is This which steals our breath/life away

In light of what we cannot keep, commonplace strikes a chord

That stirs a sweeping melody from deeps bereft of word

To make us gape at what we would take for granted somehow

But in the light of loss and such we touch and taste with ‘wow’!

© Janet Martin

Prepping for a few Valentine festivities with tots tomorrow...

                                              

A Precious 'Pressing' Presence

'prayerfully pressing into His presence.' 

is the final phrase in today's Daily Bread Devotion.

Oh, what would we do without this refuge?! 

When all else fails, never God. 

No matter what may seem...

Ps.31:19

How great is Your goodness,

Which You have stored up for those who fear You,

Which You have wrought for those who take refuge in You,

Before the sons of men!

He gives sufficient grace where Unknown’s tempest rolls

He tests the treasures we embrace as we pour our souls

Goodness and mercy’s trove no trial can expend

Nor drain the storehouses of love no thought can comprehend

He teaches us to trust only as all else fails

He reaches through our rue of dust to hoist hope’s weathered sails

His promises endure to comfort mortal care

He keeps faith’s falt’ring bark secure as we press into prayer

…where God’s presence defends faith’s groaning cruciform

As peace, not of this world transcends the substance of the storm

Where no power on earth can begin to compare

To the inimitable worth of full surrender’s prayer

© Janet Martin

Beautiful post on Barnstorming Blog today about prayer!!

In Christ Alone

Until We Kiss The Hands That Hold Us...

Evil in its lowest forms of hatred for God,

in shameless applause for sin!

Disasters that destroy and wreak unfathomable havoc and grief

oh God! We cry and You hear!

Psalm 18:6

In my distress I called to the LORD; I cried to my God for help.

 From his temple he heard my voice; my cry came before him, into his ears.

David's new release feels like perfect timing

Our thoughts and prayers are with many suffering, 

esp. those in the earthquake aftermath

in Turkey and Syria

Great Are You, Lord

Some hurts would be too hard to bear without God’s hand to hold

Life, but a valley of despair where tragedies unfold

Hope, a hollow oblation in the station of the mind

Seeking sweet consolation, it can never fully find

Some hills would be too hard to climb without God’s hand to clasp

His word transcends the march of time; His goodness is steadfast

Where, like an outstretched Hand God’s word will undergird and still

The heart-storm when we do not understand love’s perfect will

Some crosses would feel merciless, without God’s Hand to trust

Without unfailing promises to cheer our weary dust

To comfort us because we know He never leads astray

But for faith’s benefit will show the error of our way

Some sorrows would seem hard, too hard without…ah, look and see

Behold his hands, how they are scarred because of Calvary

He suffered in our stead to break the curse of sin so man

May undeservedly partake of pardon’s perfect plan

Some wonder is too much to spell with lowly ink of thought

As we bow where love’s blood-drops fell and death’s triumph was wrought

Where redemption enfolds us and hope anchors us until

We kiss the hands that hold us in love’s pure and perfect will

© Janet Martin

Where Soon The Barren Tree Will Sing

The idea of this poem started the other day

while soaking up some much-coveted rare sunshine...

Soon, soon the barren tree will burst and be barren no more...

Soon gardens, fantasy-immersed will brim with hymn and chore...

Soon backdrops white, like canvases showcasing stencil-art

Will roll like emerald oceans to where earth and heavens part...

And living rooms will spill to patios and balconies...

As words like ‘b-r-r-r’ and ‘with-wind-chill’ will turn to memories...

Soon finches will wear gold again instead of dull chartreuse...

(It seems for every snow-storm we get this winter

a mild spell follows to keep the drifts from getting too massive,

and constantly teasing us with thoughts of spring)

Soon, soon the barren tree will burst and be barren no more

Soon gardens, fantasy-immersed will brim with hymn and chore

Soon backdrops white, like canvases showcasing stencil-art

Will roll like emerald oceans to where earth and heavens part

And living rooms will spill to patios and balconies

As words like ‘b-r-r-r’ and ‘with-wind-chill’ will turn to memories

Soon finches will wear gold again instead of dull chartreuse

And though we will be older then, we will feel more footloose

After we trade our parkas for the longed-for luxury

Of soaking in the sunshine or in shade beneath a tree

As daffodils with yellow, ruffled frills spilling spring’s mirth

A-dapple hills and dells from legacies held in the earth

Soon indoor tasks will wrangle with flasks welkin, zephyr-kissed

And set at odds the law and order of the to-do list

And winter will slip from its perch with every drip and drop

Where now we slip and slide and lurch and honk and hope we stop

Where now we sip slow cups of java and traverse the world

On parchment schooners, into sagas, page by page unfurled

Soon the gray-drenched duvet that drapes dusk’s dormant countryside

Will flush into a blossom-blushing dew-brushed eventide

And we will pause, perhaps, to marvel at how swift time flies

Through winter, now a sparkle on the landscape of spent sighs

...where hues that brood in wait for spring have rent bud-gates to soar

And stir the barren tree to sing and be barren no more

© Janet Martin

Soon winter will fly away like a blue jay

with beak full of peanut😂

Soon the gray-drenched duvet that drapes dusk’s dormant countryside

Will flush into a blossom-blushing dew-brushed eventide...

Uncaging Oceans (or, Waiting on a Poem)

Let it steal your breath

Let it stir your soul

Let it sweep in sweet surprise

Like oceans that roll

Through shorelines of skin

Where no one can see

Glimmers glance and dance and spin

Into poetry

Let it lilt and waft

Soft as falling snow

Let it be a fist-a-cuff

Hold it, let it go

Let it beg and brood

Stubborn as can be

Until it beckons thought-blood

Into poetry

Let it lure and wink

Let it grip despair

With a tender twist of ink/think

Transform it to prayer

Let it take the lead

Do not rush its sea

Until caged oceans are freed

Into poetry

Let it wash the room

With a brush of sighs

Darling, none can haste the bloom

Till the bud complies

Till whispers withheld 

Yield their mystery

And the murmur of waves meld

Into poetry

Let it test the vest

Of faith's fortitude

Let it storm the mortal breast

Wild and unsubdued

Let it crash and burn

Suffer patiently

Sometimes dust and ash will turn

Into poetry

Let it scale the sky

Dangle from the moon

Tremble like a butterfly

Freed from its cocoon

Let it vex the vim

Of hope, poised to be

A shimmer of stars that brim

Into poetry

Let it move the earth

Though nobody hears

A poem is its own worth

Without thunderous cheers 

 Fan to flame its spark

Gentle as can be 

Until it bursts through dark

Into poetry

© Janet Martin