Friday, February 10, 2012

Ark of Safety

Upon the shores of grace we stand
Where Time and Mercy plead
Before wrath’s flood will wash earth’s sand
Into eternity

The ark is built; the door ajar
And whosoever will
May come into its sure stronghold
Before Time’s clock stands still

As in the days of Noah; now
Because of unbelief
The Master waits; lengthens the hour
Before sin’s final grief

Today He pleads and suffers long
He beckons to each mortal
Eternity lays in His palm
Trembling on heaven’s portal

As in the days of Noah, He
Implores, yearns and beseeches
For this last Ark will not return
When He closes its reaches

Upon the shores of grace we kneel
Oh, how long will He tarry?
Before the door of Mercy seals
The seeker from its safety

© Janet Martin

This morning the little guy I babysit and I were looking at view-master reels. One reel was Noah’s Ark. One picture caught my breath…the last two animals…turtles,(cute:) were through the door and it was closing, never to open on this side of the flood.

Now we see another door, still open. When it will close, not even the angels know. Only the One True God…I AM knows the day and the hour...

Behold, now is “THE ACCEPTABLE TIME,” behold, now is “THE DAY OF SALVATION” 2 Cor.6:2

Thursday, February 9, 2012


He stirs the sod and wooden limb
With miracles uncommon
As nature, in grand diadem
Exalts the God of Heaven

The willing hands, the humble hearts
He fills with power glorious
And by the wisdom He imparts
They will return victorious

Within the acorn; oak trees wait
Within a drop; a fountain
Within a mustard seed of faith
The strength to move a mountain

Celestial ramparts shout His praise
And cause our minds to wonder
At mysteries beyond those gates
In portals over yonder

Janet Martin

Last night on the way home from my son's hockey game it struck me...
the days are getting longer once again...and Time is getting shorter.

For as the soil makes the sprout come up
and a garden causes seeds to grow,
so the Sovereign LORD will make righteousness
and praise spring up before all nations. Isa. 61:11

We Are Beautiful

There is a wondrous beauty
Clothing us from deep within
Beneath the shallow proof of Time
Caressed upon our skin

The mirror does not show the man
Only our mortal face
It graciously conceals the span
Of our vast disgrace

Yet, God in tender love and grace
To all who trust His name
Clothes us with His pure righteousness
In garments without shame

The world may judge our clothes and frown
But they cannot behold
The beauty of a royal gown
Clothing a blood-bought soul

© Janet Martin

I read this verse this morning and rejoiced.

I delight greatly in the LORD;
my soul rejoices in my God.
For he has clothed me with garments of salvation
and arrayed me in a robe of his righteousness,
as a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest,
and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.

Isa. 61:10

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Beyond this Battle

Hold our hands, we cannot see
Beyond the steps we take
God, be our steadfast surety
For You make no mistake
And oh, we are so prone to stray
As pastures beckon, come
Be our Captain through the fray
Guide this battalion home

The unknown is a gaping void
Of misery and fear
Hope would swiftly be destroyed
Without Your Presence near
But as we feel Your tender touch
Sustaining faithfully
We do not need to fear so much
The things we cannot see

The fight is not forever Lord
The hour is at hand
When we will leave our temporal swords
In plough-shares made of sand
Oh God, it seems we see You etched
Against the setting sun
Into the trenches, arms out-stretched,
We hear You calling come

…and so we press toward Your arms
The battle is not done
This world with all its empty charms
Is but the stepping-stone
A plot of dirt on which we stand
Reaching in humble trust
To hold Your gracious out-stretched hand
Your glory to our dust…

The victory banner waves on high
Beyond this tear-stained plight
Hold our hands and be our Guide
Within the thickest fight
Through enemy lines we will forge
The battle is not long
Hold our hands and lead us, Lord
Oh, keep your warriors strong

Janet Martin

I saw the movie War Horse last night.
The final scene touched me immensely...
A picture of weary, wounded warriors coming home.