Tuesday, September 3, 2013

We Only See in Part





We only see in part
And cannot understand
The fullness of God perfect love
Or working of His hand

Sometimes the things we see
Of hurt and pain and grief
Are whispers of God’s love to draw
Us from our unbelief

We cannot see the plan
Inspiring His will
All we can do is trust the One
Who whispers, Peace, be still

© Janet Martin

Recently I heard someone reminds us that we were never intended to understand God or His ways, but we are to trust Him, knowing His way is perfect.

Peter didn’t understand either when Jesus told them that He is going to suffer and die, and then rise on the third day.

 From that time Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.  And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, “Far be it from you, Lord! This shall never happen to you.”  But he turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a hindrance to me. For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man.” Matt. 16: 21-23


We cry ‘why’
He whispers trust

We cry ‘fight’
He whispers peace

We cry ‘take’
He whispers give

We cry ‘revenge’
He whispers love

We cry ‘self’
He whispers ME

I love this song!


A Mother's Smile









A mother’s smile, I’ve come to realize
Is much more than that carefree grin of youth
Before the bearing of love’s tempered truth
Learned in life’s constant hellos and good-byes

A mother’s smile is like her moment-prayer
Of gratefulness to God that he saw fit
To bless her arms with babies for a bit
And touch the home with innocence so fair

A mother’s smile is a fine mingling heart-strife
Of faith and fear, of both sorrow and joy
For none are quite as dear as girl or boy
To which she gives the best years of her life

A mother’s smile is more than lips and face
This beacon of encouragement and cheer
Stills fearful hearts and fills her tender tear
With brave surrender and love’s humble grace

© Janet Martin

In Canada it is a morning of heart-tugs as mothers everywhere put on their bravest smiles…and another school-year begins.

Monday, September 2, 2013

To Fathers of the Bride





Dear Daddy, once her hero and the apple of her eye
Your best version of laughter and the reason you would cry
Your second miles and daddy-smiles, glad victim of her charms
Your ultimate contentment as you held her in your arms

Dear daddy, once her favorite guy and no one else came near
Or rivaled for the sweet affection of your daughter dear
And love would drive you from your rest to earn her bread and keep
But still you tip-toed in to kiss her or to watch her sleep

Dear daddy, she has found her love and it lies in another
Though it seems like just yesterday, once too you stole her mother
And surely once her daddy felt the way you feel today
As he replied ‘I do’ when they asked ‘who gives her away’

Dear daddy, hold your chin up, let her take your arm and smile
Thank God you lived to be the one to walk her down the aisle
And though today you give her to belong now to another
You'll always be her daddy; she will ever be your daughter

© Janet Martin






Just Before the Rain...





Just before the rain the air
Is like a heart, tumbled and blue
The wind rises, then falls into
Silence; reverent in nature’s prayer

Prelude to heaven’s entourage
Earth's restless ambiance implores
And ruthlessly tugs open doors
Of mist and mind-veiled camouflage

Before the rain we are nineteen
But then, in sudden silver notes
Reality aches in our throats
For what must be and what has been

Just before the rain I fear
The absence of you close to me
And all my pondered poetry
Dissolves, mingling with heaven’s tear

© Janet Martin~

September, Just Before the Rain





The mist pools purple in the dell
Above the hills the ether realm
Of dark recedes; as mercy pleads
And keeps its Hand upon Time’s helm

The sky lowers before the rain
Its air, heavy with nature’s sighs
Of unshed tears unleashing years
In pantomime before closed eyes

Sedum dons sheen of autumn blush
The bushes decked in silk and dew
Beguile the heart with winsome art
As we bid sweet summer adieu

The madrigal of cricket-lay
Corn-fields like chartreuse infantry
Bear testament to Time’s intent
Folding summer to history

This path of brief mortality
Leads through each sundry season-hall
God’s kindly grace to human race
Extends, expands beneath it all

© Janet Martin

I like being outside just before the rain. 




Choosing Thankfulness





How sad to think that I would miss
The halo of fair morning’s mirth
Or raindrop’s silver-spangled kiss
Slipping from heaven down to earth
Or laughter of a little child
Reminding us that hope remains
Or else, the night wind, keen and wild
A wanderer on charcoal plains

How sad to think I would not see
The gladsome beauty of the hour
Nature’s soulful intimacy
As it relinquishes its flower
The smiles that greet me as I pass
Love’s gifts that pour in mute free-fall
Diamond of dew on every grass
The sense of God beneath it all

How sad to forfeit heaven’s best
Thirsting for Things beyond my need
How futile were my every quest
Beneath the rod of wanton greed
And while the hand of Love imbues
Our numbered days with boundless grace
How sad if I should turn and choose
The gods of dust to take His place

How sad to think that I would take
The coldness of material gain
Rather than a sincere handshake
Or mercy’s Presence in my pain
How pitiful my morbid state
If I should journey to my grave
Wasting away beneath the weight
Wishing for things I did not have


© Janet Martin

Thank-you Scott, for the reminding us of what is truly important.

Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever. Ps. 107:1

Not Merely Moments





The clock strikes one, then two, now three
Another hour charms
This season slipping soundlessly
Through living’s outstretched arms
And no one tolls a warning bell
And no one pulls a cord
Imploring us to prepare for
That Great Day of the Lord

His faithfulness ignites dawn-sky
As on Time’s transient sod
We rally to embrace from high
Hope’s masterpiece from God
Upon its canvas, toil and spoil
Plants Passion’s sure reward
As we approach within its moil
That Great Day of the Lord

We prepare for the evening meal
For labor and for play
As Mercy from Time’s moment-wheel
Grants us another day
But these are not mere moment-chants
Of heaven’s grace out-poured
These moment-stepping stone lead to
That Great Day of the Lord

© Janet Martin



 And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions:
 And also upon the servants and upon the handmaids in those days will I pour out my spirit.
 And I will shew wonders in the heavens and in the earth, blood, and fire, and pillars of smoke.
The sun shall be turned into darkness, and the moon into blood, before the great and terrible day of the Lord come.  And it shall come to pass, that whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be delivered: for in mount Zion and in Jerusalem shall be deliverance, as the Lord hath said, and in the remnant whom the Lord shall call. Joel 2: 28-32



Sunday, September 1, 2013

September





You come, bowed low with burnished glow
Of golden-rod and orchards bent
Whereon you seal upon your reel
The echoes of a summer spent

The purple plume of milkweed bloom
Prepares to spill its silk-spun worth
Like words and deeds, gossamer seeds
Of soundless free-fall to the earth

The dapper sheen of verdant green
Succumbs to amber-gilded sweep
Before the fire of fall’s attire
And woodlands where leaf-ballads sleep

September’s ploy, sorrow and joy
A rustic, roguish pantomime
Of dust’s display; harvest, decay
Like love and longing intertwined

Moments implore, a tug-of-war
Of holding on and letting go
As August slips from fingertips
Into summer’s sweet afterglow

©Janet Martin

 Summer is not officially over for another three weeks but somehow it always feels over as soon as it’s September and another school-year begins.