Shoes

I won’t tell you what to say
Or decide what you should choose
I can’t feel the way you feel
I haven’t travelled in your shoes

But I can love you, I can pray
And tell you God is never wrong
If we seek his narrow way
He alone will keep us strong

I can’t judge you for your sin
It would simply increase mine
God’s blood cleanses from within
With a righteousness divine

God alone can know the truth
He sees far beneath our skin
Still He chooses us to love
Oh, I scarce can take it in

I won’t tell you what to say
God can show you what to choose
I can love you; I can pray
But I cannot walk in your shoes

Janet~

Matthew 7:1-2

King James Version (KJV)

Matthew 7

1Judge not, that ye be not judged.

2For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again

The Call

It will come for us someday
Not one escapes the Voice
Though now we laugh and dance and play
Upon life’s wintry grass
Within each heart the knowledge rests
That as we chase life’s endless quests
The gavel one day soon will fall
And we must answer to his call

The flickering star-light cannot boast
To know the day or hour
The waves that crash upon the coast
Do not contain the power
To tell us when that breath will be
That ends earth’s stay eternally
But it will happen to us all
When we get our final call

Will it be a soundless whisper
In the dead of night?
Will it be in bloody horror
Or sicknesses blest respite?
And if it comes will we be glad
To know that we had thus prepared
To answer as life’s petals fall
To our final curtain call

It need not be a fearful thing
This summons to appear
Before Creator, Judge and King
Who knows our every tear
If we have answered here below
Been cleansed within redemption’s flow
Then triumph waits as twilight falls
Upon this life as Jesus calls

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

I read the classic poem The Call (Charlotte Mew)
it made me think of another kind of call,,,

I am a Poet

Do not call me
A recluse
Even though I am
Loneliest in
A room full
Of people
The gift of gab
Was given
But not to me
I am most free
While indulging in
The smell of ink
The taste of pen
As I scribble
And think
And ponder
As I silently
Weigh and wonder
The questions and
Answers in
This thing called
Life…..
Do not call me
A recluse
If I should prefer
To sit and muse…
I am as God
Made me
A lover
Of quiet and still
Of night
And moon-lit hill
Observing obscurely
The rules of
Life.
Blissfully tormented
Perhaps….
Oh, I know it
But I was born
This way for
I am a
Poet

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

From Horror to Heaven

If man would have a front-row seat
To view my heart and mind
With thoughts arranged all nice and neat
I’d wish they all were blind
‘Twould truly be a horror show
How pale would be each face
For now each one would truly know
The depths of my disgrace

And I would never lift my head
In shame my hands I’d clasp
Their judgment calls my daily dread
As I recall each gasp
Of horror, hatred and disgust
As they would turn away
Ashamed to view the pride and lust
So boldly on display

But there is One who knows each thought
And intent of my heart
Yet with His love and blood He bought
For me a brand new start
Instead of judgment there is grace
In every day I live
So with a tear upon my face
I cry and He forgives

(last verse optional)

No longer bound by sin and shame
His grace is ever new
His greatest promises I claim
Each day His mercy too
So humbly now I lift my head
And look up to the skies
And thank Him for the blood He shed
And my eternal prize

Janet Martin
All Rights Reserved

....for he bore the sin of many
and made intercession for the
transgressor. Isa.53:12

Modern Sabbath

No bells peeling from the steeple,
No churches over-flow with people,
But shopping malls and parking lots
Do not have a vacant spot,
As people rush to get inside
To worship gods of wicked pride,
And never stop to think at all
Of One who saved us from the fall,
Or of a cross up on a hill
Where perfect blood for us did spill,
So that there would be a way
For man to live on Judgment Day,
Oh no, they never stop to think
That this will end quick as a wink,
And all the fool’s gold that they trust
Will be transformed to heaps of rust,
But still they crave for one more taste
Of all the filth of this world’s waste,
And still His door is open wide
Beckoning all to come inside

All Rights Reserved Aug. 2009
Janet Martin

Let us not give up meeting together as some
Are in the habit of doing,
But let us encourage one another;
And all the more as you see the Day approaching. Heb.10:25

Choices

It’s not like a new pair of shoes that youre choosing
Or a fashion accessory
Its not like a sundae that you are refusing
Or…fine if it works for me
It's not a preference like music or silence
Or a moment that steals your breath
We all are choosing, even in our refusing
Eternal life or death

It's not like the weather and choosing sunshine
Over a rainy day
We cannot assume in our indecision
Eventually it will go away
And we can't decide on Judgment Morn
To decline our lifes reward
Hope that was born neath a crown of thorns
Cannot be ignored

It's not like the choices which seem to abound
Here on this troubled earth
It's an invitation wherein is found
New life and a new birth
Will we choose Jesus and His gift of love?
Our hope when life grows dim
For there is no grace that can replace
The life we find in Him

Yes, we are choosing even in our refusing
And in our dying breath
We'll hear the voice of our choice
Eternal life or death

July 27 2009
By Janet Martin
All Rights Reserved

If anyone’s name was not found written in the Book of Life, he was thrown into the lake of fire. Rev.20:15