FOR IT IS BY GRACE

One cannot measure the goodness of our God!

SOMETIMES “NOTHING” IS EVERYTHING

I wanted to  give the right gift,

the perfect one.

I had little money

and few skills.

IT NEEDED TO BE PERFECT!

I grew more and more disappointed.

Eventually,

with tears in my eyes

and empty hands,

I threw myself to the ground

and cried out

“I love you!”

He was pleased.

By Martha L Shaw – © 2017

 

REFLECTING ON THE CROSS

The REAL Joy

I enjoy the applause.

Admiration is nice for a time

but,

my lasting joy

is reflecting the Lord in all I AM and do.

I am nothing without His love.

By Martha L Shaw – © 2016

TEARS OF JOY AND SADNESS

My Beloved

A palm branch welcome

A donkey ride, “hosanna!!”

enroute to the tree

By Martha L Shaw © 2015

You KNEW

and loved me enough to do it ANYWAY . ..

Thank you!

JUST A TREE . . .

NAILS – An Acrostic

Never had a tree touched my heart.

Acorns, bark, leaves to rake.

It was so ordinary, almost invisible.

Lent’s reminder of my Savior’s love – His blood.

Somehow the tree isn’t just a tree anymore.

By Martha L Shaw © 3-23-2015

NAILS – An Acrostic

Never had a tree touched my heart.

Acorns, bark, leaves to rake.

It was so ordinary, almost invisible.

Lent’s reminder of my Savior’s love – His blood.

Somehow the tree isn’t just a tree anymore.

By Martha L Shaw © 3-23-2015

Love Is . . .

As I complain

of the splinter in my hand

I recall the nails in His.

By Martha L Shaw © 2-24-2015

It Is Finished . . . Or Is It?

It is Good Friday.

I’m preparing to head to  church and as I write this I’m thinking about things and trying to keep things in perspective, but it’s a dark and rainy day and I’m recalling last night . . . just as the service had ended and the church had been stripped of all the beautiful linens and other sacred things  and left bare and plain something remarkable happened.  At that very moment the storm outdoors magnified and as the sanctuary went dark the loudest clap of thunder and lightning was heard as though to wake us up to all that was to come . . .

I know that Easter will soon be here and that beauty and joy will return SPLENDIDLY, but just now I find I’m focused on death on a rough wooden cross.  I am wondering what they did with it after Jesus was placed in the tomb?  Did they cast lots for it to recycle its wood as they did for His clothing?  It was raw wood and surely stained with His blood . . . “it is finished” He said.  It is finished . . . and yet, it truly had only just begun.

Gethsemane Revisited

What was it like in the garden that day? What was the weather? Was it seasonable? Were there people about Gethsemane? Did they have any idea of what was to come to pass? Were there dark clouds in the sky as though a storm was brewing? Was there an odd stillness in the air? Did they catch their breath in an uneasy sense of “something just doesn’t feel right?” Without radio, television, newspapers, computers and the like, how much was known of what was planned? There was no water cooler down the hallway where “everything important” was shared among those who clustered and whispered there . . . were there children wandering about happily playing? Was it a pretty day with blue skies and sunshine and a gentle breeze? What was in the minds of those who were there?

What was in the minds of Jesus sleepy companions that night? Were they confused? Did they anticipate that “something” was up? When Jesus awakened them and spoke to them “can you not watch and pray with me for an hour” did they have any inkling of something life changing that was to come in just a few short hours? Was it a dreadful night or a beautiful one? Did they sleep well or toss and turn, their souls in an uncertain and undefined distress? Did they think their world was coming to an end? Did they know their friend and Savior was about to die to save them and grant them eternal life with Him? Did they think it was “just another day?”