Sunday, September 10, 2023

O Come, All Ye Faithful



Is this the joyful and triumphant highlight of our week?
To gather with fellow-believers and adore Him?!!
For the believer this song is an all-year song, isn't it?!




O, come, all ye faithful, ye weary, ye grateful
O, come all ye seekers of hope, joy and peace
To worship our Maker, our God and our Saviour
To praise He who purchased doomed sinner’s release

O, come all ye thirsty, O, come to the waters
Come, ye without money, O, come, buy and eat
Come and adore He whose love never wavers
But whose delight makes the Soul’s joy complete

O, come, for the cross of Christ makes no exception
Salvations waits for all who call on Him
Worthy the Lamb who achieved our redemption
Come, let the music of thanksgiving brim

O, come all ye faithful, happy, heavy-laden
Come and partake in love’s feast of delight
O, come all ye faithful to praise and adore Him
He who will always guide seekers aright
He who will arm and fit us for the fight

© Janet Martin

Isa.55:1-3

Come, all you who are thirsty,

come to the waters;

and you without money,

come, buy, and eat!

Come, buy wine and milk

without money and without cost!

2Why spend money on that which is not bread,

and your labor on that which does not satisfy?

Listen carefully to Me, and eat what is good,

and your soul will delight in the richest of foods.

3Incline your ear and come to Me;

listen, so that your soul may live.

Saturday, September 9, 2023

A Little Ink Reminder...



Life/love is poetry
waiting to be written...




Some days poem-possibility is like fruit, ripe for harvest and preserving,


...other days require (soul)-searching!

Ps.139:23-24
Search me, O God, and know my heart;
Try me, and know my anxieties;
And see if there is any wicked way in me,
And lead me in the way everlasting.

...but every poet does well to remember Who bestows the ink
then, to be diligent and conscientious in our reply!

***
The troubles of this world could drain the poet’s pen of verse
Its weight of care could crush the lyric-spring within the heart
But what doth it profit a man to clench a fist and curse
When all it takes is each of us to do our willing part
To make this world a kinder place for our fellowman
To help each other weather trouble’s trouble while we can

The poet’s charge is more than ink-caper to paper pressed
But rather, an attempt to keep us wonderfully awed
A page can capture beauty, like a cloud by pink caressed
To replay when the day grows dark and we start to doubt God
Poetry preserves pictures long after seasons have set
So we remember tinctures we might otherwise forget

…the laughter after it has passed, the once-upon-childhood
Before the way time flies teaches the fledgling how to fly
It gentles bitter aftermath of love misunderstood
As the whisper of God compels the poet to reply
And rally us to be more humbly glad for me-‘n-you
Remembering who we will answer to when life is through

The trouble of this world will always be; the poet knows
The pen is mightier than sword; font is a holy thing
For the sacred longevity of written word bestows
Accountability for all touched by its rendering
Thus, before thought entrusts its erring tendencies to ink
The poet ought to ask the Author of Love how to think

The troubles of this world could drain the poet’s pen of rhyme
Its weight of care could crush the raring rush to write and write
Without the One whose replenishes joy, time after time
And overflows the wellspring of the heart with sheer delight
To share without exception, every hymn that frets to spill
And follow the direction of the Hand that lets the quill

...where the trouble that groans is never greater than His grace
Though pleasure/measure of a poem cannot erase creature-care
Like a soft kiss upon the cheek, a handshake or embrace
A poem can kindle a smile, a tear, a song, a prayer
To cheer each other on with kindness and humility
A little ink-reminder of God, spilled in poetry  

© Janet Martin

Happy September Saturday!






Friday, September 8, 2023

The Driving Force of Love...


Vain, ah vain is love's façade
We try to maintain, without God
Futile, futile, its driving force
Until we recognize love's Source

It is impossible to deny God yet claim to love...

1 John 4:7
Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God.
 Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God.
 
The 'brutal honesty' of the book
leaves no stone unturned in life's journey,
(after we have confessed the name of Jesus)
often challenging the reader with realizations of what 
we may try to gloss over or ignore!!!

These below are no exception!



The driving force of love challenges you and I
Because its evidence will prove love cannot tell a lie
Though noise of bluff and boast can put on quite a show
Who we love and honour the most is bound to overflow
Into life’s daily grind of want and sacrifice
The driving force of love will find a way to pay the price
….for love comes with a cost that love alone pursues
Love is no thoughtless penny tossed with nothing much to lose
Oh no, love always takes to give; this is the part
That will reveal, by how we live, whose love reigns in the heart

© Janet Martin

1 John 2:15-17
Do not love the world or the things in the world.
 If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. 
16For all that is in the world—the lust of the flesh, 
the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—
is not of the Father but is of the world. 
17And the world is passing away, and the lust of it; 
but he who does the will of God abides forever.

2 Tim.3:1-5
But know this, that in the last days [a]perilous times will come:
 2For men will be lovers of themselves,
 lovers of money, boasters, proud, blasphemers, 
disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, 3unloving,
 [b]unforgiving, slanderers, without self-control, 
brutal, despisers of good, 
4traitors, headstrong, haughty, 
lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God,
 5having a form of godliness but denying its power.
 And from such people turn away!





 


Thursday, September 7, 2023

Delight's Attention Spans

A few delights caught on camera,
that helped inspire today's poem...

Clouds heaped on deeps of boundless blue, 


a grape-embellished vine...



He spills Majesty’s showcases, in petals, paper-thin...






A flower in its precious prime,





 a bud, bursting to tell
 (I am so eager for this hibiscus to begin blooming!!)


A bloom, bowed by the toll of Time’s unyielding carousel...


To mint and silver-dazzled mist of dew-kissed fennel-frond


God draws delight’s attentions to beauties and mercies fine
Clouds heaped on deeps of boundless blue, a grape-embellished vine
A flower in its precious prime, a bud, bursting to tell
A bloom, bowed by the toll of Time’s unyielding carousel
A treetop, cobbled to the moon, a pot of garden stew
A bit of summer afternoon left after work is through

He spills Majesty’s showcases, in petals, paper-thin
He wills unfathomed graces to a world blighted by sin
Four-season feasts of grandeur, great and small, thrill and confound
Impressions of His splendor thunder, oft without a sound
As glory of the earth and sky declares the glory of
The Lord. Ah, here a butterfly, ah, there a cooing dove

Coruscant vim of brook-verve curves through wood and meadowland
God’s evidence, without reserve, anoints Want’s blind demand
And fills us with anticipation for impending praise;
Impromptu celebrations as we marvel at His ways
Mantled in morning amethyst, hailed from Welkin Beyond
To mint and silver-dazzled mist of dew-kissed fennel-frond

How holy is the lowly spud, how God’s providence awes
Incomprehensible, the Thought that ordain nature’s laws
And draws delights attentions to beauties and mercies fair
And kindles endless anthems to a God beyond compare
Whose outer fringes flourish in frames filled with ‘let there be’
Whose Inner Whispers nourish gladness and humility

Delight's attention spans the gap twixt worshipper and God
It joins the the trees that clap their hands, the hill-and-field pealed laud
Where spoken tokens of his Word yield what He has decreed
His proclamation, undeterred for He is Lord indeed
Who draws delight's attention to creation's chief employ
To lift our hearts and voices and to shout and sing for joy

© Janet Martin

a pot of garden-stew...


***


Yesterday the morning was turning swiftly sweltering...
when, what to my wondering eyes should appear
but my dear neighbor with a potato-digger!
My hallelujah-hymn, 
(kindled as the potato-fork
unearthed Yukon gold and Idaho red treasure
 in astonishing measure)
reached new and unexpected heights;
the kind of height that only (unexpected) kindness 
(esp. potato-digger kindness)
achieves!!

(my apologies for the WOW!!!
in my delight, I forgot I was recording😂💗)



You will indeed go out with joy and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and hills will burst into song before you,
and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.

Clap your hands, all you peoples; shout unto God with a voice of triumph.

The pastures of the wilderness overflow; the hills are robed with joy.

The pastures are clothed with flocks, 
and the valleys are decked with grain. 
They shout in triumph; indeed, they sing.

North and south You created; 
Tabor and Hermon shout for joy at Your name.

The floodwaters have risen, O LORD; 
the rivers have raised their voice;
 the seas lift up their pounding waves.

Sing for joy, O heavens, for the LORD has done this; 
shout aloud, O depths of the earth.
 Break forth in song, O mountains, 
you forests and all your trees. 
For the LORD has redeemed Jacob, 
and revealed His glory in Israel.



Tuesday, September 5, 2023

The Lane Is Quiet Now...

Seeing all the precious first-day-of-school photos
tugs at the strings of mom-hearts at the other end of school-days spectrum
Pinch Me!! Where did that seemingly-endless season slip?!
The lane is quiet now...



The lane is quiet now
No mother’s prayers flung aft
Her precious troop of scholars
No frantic antics, wept-laughed

The lane is quiet now
Save echoes, bittersweet
No toast and jam dashed after one
Who had no time to eat

No new-shoes-backpack joy
Or belly-butterflies
Or darling little girl and boy
Tugging at mom’s heart-ties

No watching that old clock
Dwindle the minutes till
‘Hurry, hurry!! You’ll miss the bus!’
Repeats its frenzied drill

That once-upon-a-time
Forever-long somehow
Unraveled into mist-kissed clime
The lane is quiet now

© Janet Martin

That once-upon-a-time
Forever-long somehow
Unraveled into mist-kissed clime
The lane is quiet now...

(the last first-day-of-school exactly 6 years ago now!)


The lane is quiet now
save cricket tweet-tweet-tweet...



I Cannot Get Enough (for all eternity)

 


Doing a mini-mountain of corn grants, sweet opportunity to
enjoy rich teaching...
Yesterday these messages ministered to my soul 

Submitting to God







I cannot get enough
For all eternity
To sing about my Savior’s love
And what He gave to me

His pardon for my sin
Death’s sentence come to end
A gift that I cannot begin
To fully comprehend

His death to conquer death
The moment I believed
Redemption crowns each gifted breath
Through salvation received 

His truth to set me free
His hope, alive and sure 
His peace amidst adversity
His joy complete and pure

His Spirit to cheer me
I cannot get enough
But to sing for eternity
About my Saviour’s love

© Janet Martin




Monday, September 4, 2023

A Sacred Contemplation

Ps.145:3-7 (oh, how I love this chapter)
Great is the Lord and most worthy of praise;
    his greatness no one can fathom.
 One generation commends your works to another;
    they tell of your mighty acts.
 They speak of the glorious splendor of your majesty—
    and I will meditate on your wonderful works.[b]
 They tell of the power of your awesome works—
    and I will proclaim your great deeds.
 They celebrate your abundant goodness
    and joyfully sing of your righteousness...


Great is the Lord and worthy to be praised indeed!
He, who knows all things...

Oh Lord, You know the truth
No need/good to smudge the ink
Or try to hide the living proof
Of what we want and think

Your gaze is undeterred
No vice or virtue veiled
Lord, let me tremble at Your word
Your Word has never failed

Oh Lord, you love us most
The Tempter hates when we
Make Your power in us our boast
With all humility

Lord, you resist the proud
Then, make us meek, I pray
I love you, Lord, for all You vowed
Will be just as You say

© Janet Martin

For all those things hath mine hand made,
 and all those things have been, saith the LORD:
 but to this man will I look, 
even to him that is poor and of a contrite spirit, 
and trembleth at my word.

Whoso despiseth the word shall be destroyed: 
but he that feareth the commandment shall be rewarded.

A Very Personal Thing (Life's Labour of Love)

 Happy Labour Day!

Some fruits of labor/harvest are easy to recognize...
like onions!

Some harvests are far more subtle, 
so subtle, in fact, that if we are not careful/prayerful
we might trick ourselves into thinking (for better or worse)
 they will be forgotten!

1 Cor.15:58
Therefore, my beloved brethren,
be steadfast, immovable,
always abounding in the work of the Lord,
knowing that your labor is not in vain in the Lord.

***
As much as we are able we may encourage and influence each other
as we labor and love side by side, until the Great Divide.
Then, 'each of us will give an account of himself to God.' Rom.14:12

***
2 John 1:8-9
Watch yourselves, so that you do not lose what we have worked for
,a but that you may be fully rewarded.
9Anyone who runs ahead without remaining in the teaching of Christ
does not have God. Whoever remains in His teaching
has both the Father and the Son.

***
None can be and none can do
(Not you for me or me for you)
Though we need each other, none
None can smooth talk into place
The fruit of God’s saving grace
It is personal; the laud
Between living soul and God

None can learn God’s word for me
Nor my prayer’s substitute be
Faith’s relationship maintained
Is not, by default sustained
Each, by thought and deed will prove
Who or what we dearly love
Thus, life's account each will bring
Is a most personal thing

None can thwart what is at stake
Through the choices that we make
For how we influence who
By all that we say and do
Each, in our own hand will bring
(A very personal thing)
Before He who is not mocked
Love-letters of how we walked

© Janet Martin


 

  1. O land of rest, for thee I sigh!
    When will the moment come
    When I shall lay my armor by
    And dwell in peace at home?
    • Refrain:
      We’ll work till Jesus comes,
      We’ll work till Jesus comes,
      We’ll work till Jesus comes,
      And we’ll be gathered home.
  2. No tranquil joys on earth I know,
    No peaceful, shelt’ring dome;
    This world’s a wilderness of woe,
    This world is not my home.
  3. To Jesus Christ I fled for rest;
    He bade me cease to roam,
    And lean for comfort on His breast
    Till He conduct me home.
  4. I sought at once my Savior’s side;
    No more my steps shall roam;
    With Him I’ll brave death’s chilling tide
    And reach my heav’nly home.