Epiphany of the (Seeming) Commonplace

This passage in yesterday's devotion was the perfect gift for someone near and dear to mefacing a vale of shadows... Isa.43:1-3But now, this is what the Lord says—he who created you, Jacob,he who formed you, Israel:“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;I have summoned you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters,I will be with you;and when you pass through the rivers,they will not sweep over you.When you walk through the fire,you will not be burned;the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the Lord your God,the Holy One of Israel, your Savior; All around us the seeming Commonplace spills from a fount of redeeming grace! A few glimpses of yesterday and today's un-commonplace A new favourite tea thanks to a Christmas gift! Sipping while enjoying another snow-capped morning... The eyes that open to behold the break of day, blue-gray, blush-goldOr the beloved presence of the people whom we dearly love (off to school) To be…to be stunned by the grace and beauty of The CommonplaceThe task that moves the mobile hand, the feet that function when we standThe eyes that open to behold the break of day, blue-gray, blush-goldOr the beloved presence of the people whom we dearly love To be, though ineffably flawed, a sacred masterpiece of GodEach breath, a shimmer spilling rife from He who fills the rill of lifeAnd rushes mortality through with Immortal, none can undoHis goodness never wanes or fails no matter what vexes or ails To let The Commonplace confound, stirred by a symphony of soundThe birds, the breeze, the merchant cry of toil until life’s rill runs dryBut until then to pay kind heed to instruments of word and deedAnd with motherly love embrace the holy, seeming Commonplace To be beholden to faith’s Charge to trust God with cares small and largeTo don the warmly woven shrouds, to brave the bite of brumal cloudsOr to meet round a table where heads bow in sweet and humble prayerAs gladness overflows heart-banks as thought is overcome with thanks As logic is utterly awed as we consider man and GodAnd how the beauty of the earth does not depend on human worth(For how bereft beauty would be if it was up to you and me)But Beauty smiles in every face that celebrates the Commonplace The canvas of the heavens stretched from skyline-to-skyline, mauve-etchedThe music of four season’s worth of wonder, melting want with mirthThe wealth of five senses designed to enrich the most mundane grindAnoints the seeming Commonplace with the oil of gladness; God’s grace …so when the Commonplace is tried with precious hopes and dreams deniedThe Giver of the font and fray of unframed prints that fall awayDay after day, does not forget His promises, but cups each YetIn hands, scarred with the price of grace that sanctifies The Commonplace The sacred, solemn Commonplace, the seemingly meaningless chaseIn the light of God’s beck and call is never Commonplace at allThen mind the corner where you are for, we serve He who lights each starHe who grants each new day of grace is anything but Commonplace Lord, forgive me, when faith is frail and yields to fear and doubt's travail Lord, let love’s pow'r be undeterred through the Truth of your changeless WordLord, let Thy perfect peace transform and take The Commonplace by stormAnd let pure worship’s hymn resound; 'this place we stand is holy ground’ This joy, this grief , this day brand-new, this warm handshake and how-are-youThis hardship-ordered change of pace is anything but CommonplaceIf we look past the part we see (the gasp before eternity) And recognize each grin and groan is a back-to-God steppingstone Janet Martin