A Dying Soldiers Thoughts

The sky is such a lovely shade of blue in early May
The clouds look soft and fluffy; I’ll be touching them today
At least the grass I’m lying on is soft and emerald green
The color of the spring-time lawn back home in Aberdeen

God, there was so much that I had hoped that I could do
But it looks as if today I will be meeting you
And all the things I’ve thought worth-while seem suddenly so small
I can’t help but smile to think we fuss ‘bout life at all

The only thing that matters is this moment now impending
The seeds that I have scattered will grow though my life is ending
God, it is so little that man-kind will ever know
I'm glad that I am not afraid because You love me so

There’s a letter in my pocket, I suppose someone will find
And give to my beloved, ‘something I had left behind’….
Sure would have loved to see her, touch her soft cheek just once more
God, what a useless, bloody hell on earth, this war

Above me now an eagle flies on her majestic flight
I will pass her in the skies as I fly Home tonight
She will fly to some tall tree and to her faithful nest
I’ll fly to eternity and my eternal rest

The sky is such a lovely shade of blue in early May
I wonder what they’re doing in my home-town today
I wish that I could see them all and touch their lips again
Oh God, in death there’s no enemy, we are all just men….

......somewhere in his home-town way across the shining seas
The willow limbs are swaying gently in the evening breeze
And there somewhere is someone who cares none for spring so green
As she weeps into her pillow for something that could have been

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

Inspired by Hemingway, Dickinson, life and love

No Battle Scar

I stood at the gate, one I well knew about,
Since my youth I’d been taught how to get in or stay out,
When suddenly there appeared on the last stepping-stone
The most glorious Being I’d ever laid eyes on,
As His eyes beheld mine, both wonder and fear
Surged through my body, for ‘twas certainly clear
That this indeed was Christ the Lord!
And I was drawn to my knees as in His presence I bowed,
His compassion and kindness so brilliantly shone
Down on that moment on the last stepping-stone

Then I lifted my head as I beheld His glory,
And I timidly said, “I believe the great story!
I believe that you love me and died for my sin,
And only through your blood will I ever get in
To the heavenly kingdom and the bliss that awaits
All who pass through these bright pearly gates”,
I professed my devotion, gratitude and love,
My desire to be in His kingdom above,
I thanked Him for being my precious Savior,
And hoped in His sight, that I would find favor

Then long was the silence, there was pain in His look,
As He lifted His eyes from a most wondrous book,
There was sorrow in His gaze, and a tear in His smile,
He spoke with tenderness, as to a little child,
And His words made me drop my head in shame,
“There is hope”, He said, “For all who call on my name,
For I am the Way, the Truth and Life,
I am your freedom and victory in strife,
Now you’ve laid down your armor, released from life’s war,
But where, precious one, are your battle scars?

Where is the record of the second mile?
You wearily trod, because you were My child,
And someone needed a faithful friend,
A hand to hold so they could stand,
Where is the suffering? A soldier’s price,
If you love me, then where is your sacrifice?
No mark of labor on your hands,
No wounds, no scars, no prison bands,
No dark hour where only I knew
The battle you fought as I carried you


Where is the sleepless night as you prayed?
For all the lost souls who carelessly strayed,
Where is the day where you hungrily fed?
From my living Word as your daily bread,
Where is that moment when you humbly laid down?
The pleasures of this life for a much richer crown,
If you are my child, as you say you are
Then surely there must be at least one battle scar,
To prove love’s measure, to show love’s price,
The mark of a soldier’s sacrifice,

Then there was silence. How could I reply?
No battle scar for the One who had died!
Not only for me, but for each living soul,
Yet I’d been unwilling to yield Him my whole!
No battle scar for His love so great!
On this last stepping-stone it was now too late,
Too late to go back and to show Him again
That for His sacrifice, how truly thankful I am!
Too late, too late! I wept as He spoke,
Then suddenly, thankfully—I awoke!
Copyright 2008 Janet Martin

Therefore, endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ; No man that wars entangles himself with the affairs of this life,
That he may please Him who hath chosen him to be a soldier.
(2 Tim.2:3-4)

No Passing Fancy

His loves no passing fantasy
His love flows on forever
No leaf upon an autumn breeze
Or floating down a river
So do not choose with apathy
His high and holy calling
His loves no passing fantasy
Like spring-time snowflakes falling

We cannot choose to walk away
And never give an answer
If we have bowed our knee to pray
In some quick passing fancy
God is not mocked and He will judge
What is right and pure
If we to Him our love have pledged
A soldier must endure

His offering is no fantasy
Or just a passing fancy
His offering sets the sinner free
And heavy hearts a-dancing
His loves the Greatest Mystery
Not a passing season
He does not love us casually
Or without any reason

So when we bow beneath His call
Before His sacred altar
Our name recorded in his scroll
His grace will never falter
We cannot choose to walk away
As from a passing whim
His cross is not a fantasy
And we will answer Him

Janet Martin All Rights reserved


He who was seated on the throne said,"I make everything new!". Then He said,"Write this down for these words are trustworthy and true." He said to me: "It is done. I am theAlpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End.
To him
who is thirsty I will give him to drink without cost from the spring of the water of life.He who overcomes will inherit all this, and I will be his God and he will be my son.Rev.21:5-7