Adjusting my Sails

I sat at the lake watching the waves crash against the breakwater

Surrounded by the wilderness of winter, the lake shook violently

The angry wind grabbed ahold of the water pushing it forward

Relentlessly tossing it in my direction on the shore

I was mezmerized by the force that couldn’t be controlled

Sometimes lately I feel like I’m out in the middle of that big lake

Being tossed to and fro, back and forth, buffeted by the force of a storm

I’d like to go back to an easier place, I thought

But I caught myself and steadied my thoughts. I can’t go back, not even to yesterday

I knew that deep in my soul. And then I heard a quiet voice

It was The Still Small Voice speaking to my soul

“The only way is forward. Adjust your sails.”

There’s really not many new truths to learn in this wilderness storm

Only a repositioning, a growing deeper in lessons learned through other storms

I cannot control the way the wind is blowing

The way it’s pushing the water into giant, forceful waves

I can allow the fatigue, the weariness to undo me

Let my hope turn to despair and succumb to the storm

Give it permission to drown me in oppressive thoughts

Or I can choose to adjust my sails and catch the powerful breath of God

And allow His Holy Spirit to aid in moving me forward

I will not focus on the waves, the wind, the storm

I will adjust my sails

Blessings,

Nancy

*My photo was taken on the shore of Lake Michigan

In This Stillness

In the stillness of the breaking dawn

With a book and morning brew

Sitting calmly within this silence

When everything starts new

*

The light and shadows dance

With gentle movements across the room

There’s peace here in this moment;

Another day for hope to bloom

*

In the newness of this day

I pause in gratitude

For all things great and small

With a thankful attitude

*

As the sun rises again

There’s another chance to see

All the special, wondrous blessings

That God prepared for me

*

Living in each moment

With an awareness of little joys

That’s what I’ll do on this day

Blocking out all the other noise

*

Every day with each new dawn

There are countless gifts around

To lift me up above the hard

With joyful moments to be found

©Poetry and Photography by Nancy Janiga

The Splendor of Autumn

It’s November and autumn is still very much alive here. This month, known as the month to give thanks in the U.S., holds many things to be thankful for and one of them, for me, is the beauty of this season.  There’s so much to love about autumn.

Autumn in all its splendor

When leaves begin to sparkle

All dressed in pretty colors

We look in awe and marvel

It’s when nature puts on its best

To deliver up a show

Trees stand stately before us all

And in the sunlight glow 

Acorns scattered beneath some branches

With a crunch under our feet

The sights and sounds are marvelous

Before everything falls asleep

We can sit among the wonder

Or walk a tree lined path or lane

Wherever we go or whatever we do

The trees are here to entertain

Take notice in each moment

Don’t let them pass you by

Be present in all the blessings

Look up at the color near the sky

The red, orange, yellow and brown

Against the backdrop sky of blue

Is a gift for all of us to accept

In every different hue

At the end of this spectacular show

It will end so gracefully and slow 

While leaves loosen their grip, dance and sway 

They’ll reveal the beauty of letting go

The breezes will carry them along

Like swinging cradles in the air

The trees will take a final bow 

And for the next season, they’ll be bare

Seasons always change and winter’s up next

But this beautiful show will return

For every year in a well ordered plan

Leaf colors will again brightly burn

Poem and Photography by: Nancy Janiga ©2021

 

Grace in the New Day

There’s grace in the sunrise

when darkness slowly fades away

and joy in the moment 

when I begin a brand new day


When the sun lifts up higher

covering the sky with more light

I see billows of clouds form

on a blue background so bright


Walking tree covered pathways,

listening to birds’ sweet songs

I hum with their singing

as I stroll peacefully along


My eyes spot wild roses

weaving in and out between trees

and I revel in all the beauty

of everything I see


Butterflies zigzag through bushes 

as they frolic around

with some landing softly on leaves 

without making a sound


On my path there’s dappling of sunshine

that streams from between leaves on high

and in the quiet of the morning I breathe

in and out with a sigh


It’s a long sigh of gratitude

from somewhere deep in my soul

that helps me appreciate God’s creation

and makes me feel whole

Nancy Janiga

Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. John 1:3

Coming Alive Again

It’s a crazy mixed up world we live in.  All you have to do is turn on the news to realize that.  Then there’s our own personal challenges added to the mix.  And…well…that can make us feel overwhelmed.  But there’s still beauty to be found in the middle of the broken.  My camera helps me seek and find it.  I’d like to share another poem that I wrote, several years ago, that was just published.  Go figure…just published after all these years!  Another surprise for me.  I thought I better hurry up and post this since spring is going to shift into summer soon…

Coming Alive Again

1

In spring there’s a freshness

and a beauty unfolds,

all that was sleeping

awakens for us to behold.

daisies

There’s a sigh of relief

that winter has ended,

even the birds are aware

of all that is splendid.

woody

Woodland animals awaken,

peeking out their faces

slowly at the beginning,

from their resting places.

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Everything comes alive

like a rebirth,

a sense of anticipation

fills the whole earth.

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Dormant flowers rise up

to feel the sun’s warmth,

brown grass turns green

and color comes forth.

colors of spring

Gray skies become blue,

clouds look like marshmallows,

a tapestry on the ground

that is no longer fallow.

clouds

A colorful picture

and a marvelous sight —

when the world around us

is no longer black and white.

tulips 2

Written by:  Nancy Janiga

All photos taken by: ©Nancy Janiga

Holding On

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I wrote the following words on January 11, 2015 in my piece titled, Our Spring is coming

“We are looking forward to the end of this storm, this winter that we are in.  We are looking forward to seeing all the signs of spring and new life…The crocus’ poking up from beneath the snow, the sun shining brighter, the patches of snow disappearing and the grass greening.

We are looking forward to spring with the hope of being home where we can live out what the medical staff is calling our new normal.”

As spring and the promise of new life arrived, we received the results of Bob’s spinal fluid and bone marrow biopsies, CANCER FREE!  Two of the most beautiful words that we’ve ever heard!

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Through the sovereignty of God and our son, Scott, agreeing to God’s plan through his bone marrow donation, Bob received a second chance at life; a rebirth so to speak.

After 8 months in this medical community, we thought by now we could make plans to return home but Bob is fighting an intestinal infection.  The transplant knocked down his immune system so it will be an uphill climb for a year from the date of his transplant.  The complete recovery process, at times, is grueling.  What would be a minor illness for you or me, becomes serious for Bob.

What we have learned through this experience, right from the beginning, is that we never know what tomorrow may bring so we must hold tight to the ONE who holds tomorrow in His hands.

In the middle of our own medical odyssey, my dad had a heart attack and a stroke and is recovering nearby.

We’re a little battle fatigued but remain hopeful.

Our hope lies in the one who holds tomorrow in His hands and those hands are holding both of the special men in my life…my husband and my father.

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I wrote a poem years ago that I completely forgot about until I received a letter in the mail recently.  The letter came from a mission publication stating that they were going to publish my poem.  It was an unexpected surprise.  A gift of God’s timing.  Here are those words:

Rejoice and Be Glad

Springtime brings new energy
And all nature is refreshed;
The veil of winter lifted,
Feeling by the sun, to be caressed.

The earth begins to come alive
As presenting a new song
And all that is within us
Begins to sing along.

God paints the earth with greenery
And colors every flower,
Showcasing birds against blue skies
With a demonstration of His power.

Somewhere deep within the heart
There’s a joy we can’t contain;
Surrounded by spring’s newness,
Hope and happiness remain.

Skipping to the beat of spring
Floods the soul with peace.
After the wilderness of winter,
God brings us sweet relief.

God is bringing us sweet relief slowly from our winter wilderness.  What was buried beneath the winter of our souls, is emerging stronger, resilient, joyful and thankful.

Many of you have been part of this second chance at life for Bob — especially through your prayers — and for that we are thankful.  We are thankful to God and to all of you.  And now we wait in hope for God to clear up Bob’s infection and make his recovery complete.

Blessings,

Nancy

We are artists

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Did you know that we are all artists?

We don’t have to write, draw, paint, sculpt to be one either.

We’ve been created by the master artist to become like him and he is certainly creative.  Look at us, look at nature ~ the trees, the flowers, the earth, the sea, the sky.  You don’t have to look far to find the wonder of his art.

He spoke this world into being but he breathed life into you and me to become image bearers.

He declared that all his work was good but we are different, because in his declaration he made it known that we humans, male and female, are not just good but very good. 

He put the very good stamp of approval on us as image bearers and gave us work to do ~ that’s our art.

Even when his image became tainted in us he gave us another chance to be created anew through Jesus.

For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.  Ephesians 2:10

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Some versions use the word workmanship instead of masterpiece.

The words masterpiece and workmanship are translations from the original Greek word poiema ~ where our English word poem originates.

We are God’s masterpiece, workmanship, works of art, poem.

We are His poiema.

We, the created, are expressions of his creativity and his poetry comes out through us.  We are poems.  Uniquely put together to add something beautiful to our world.

Wherever we are, wherever we go, whatever we do, whatever we express pours out from the pouring in of the Spirit of God.

We are moving, walking, breathing, living poetry.

We are all artists expressing ourselves in and through the work that he planned and prepared for us long ago.

Each of us will express it differently through different mediums but we’re all poems shining out, through our work, for the glory of God.

In the beginning God designed us for work.

Jesus didn’t change that.  He pours his life into open and willing vessels and what comes out of the vessel is art.  His poetry to the world.

Some of us are writers, some may even write poetry, some may express their art through painting, drawing, sculpting but most of us express God’s poetry in just ordinary everyday ways.  Just like Jesus did.

  • He worked in his father’s carpenter shop
  • He walked
  • Told stories
  • Spent time with prostitutes and other sinners
  • He attended weddings
  • He Healed
  • He fished
  • He laughed
  • He wept
  • He grieved
  • He loved
  • He was compassionate
  • His compassion sometimes led to tough love
  • He enjoyed life
  • He spent time with friends
  • He prayed

He and his father were one.  He stayed close to his father, listened to his voice and lived out his mission through him.

It’s in the everyday, the day-to-day that we best express his poetry too.

When my younger brother died unexpectedly two years ago, one expression of love and compassion that still touches my heart were the friends and extended family that showed up for his visitation with food.  There was a lounge/kitchen area where meat, bread, croissants, sandwiches, fruit, desserts, coffee, soda and much more were spread out on counters.  And the food kept pouring in all day long.

We, my brother’s family and many visitors, didn’t have to leave the funeral home on that long hard day to go out to eat.  Many people met our needs, not only through nourishing our souls with comfort and encouragement but through meeting our physical needs with food.  They were the living, breathing poem of God.

When my oldest son had pneumonia at the age of 14, and his doctor told us that a few days of intravenous antibiotics in the hospital should clear up his infection, we were hopeful since the oral pills didn’t touch it.

As one day led to another and his infection wasn’t clearing up, tubes were inserted into his chest to try and drain the fluid. Then the unthinkable happened.  His lung collapsed and consultations with specialists ensued.   Surgery, ICU and lots of prayer finally brought healing after 30 days in the hospital.

My mother came and stayed with us and cared for our 4-year-old son as Bob and I spent many days and long nights at the hospital.  My sister, Judy, took a week off to stay and helped out too.  Both were living, breathing poems of God.

There were many others from our church ~ including our pastor ~ who gathered around Scott’s hospital bed for prayer and friends visited and helped wherever they could.  Two elders from our church came daily and spent hours with us in the hospital.  God’s poetry was pouring out through their lives.

The more I think it over, the more I feel that there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people. Vincent Van Gogh

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I don’t know what it does for you to grasp that you are God’s masterpiece, his poiema, his created poem, but for me it’s liberating to know that he has a perfect plan to live creatively through me.   And he directs me with the desires he plants in me to go out and live it.

Being his workmanship doesn’t mean we are all poets.  It means we are all poems, individual created works of a creative God.  And this poetry comes out uniquely through us as we worship, think, love, pray, rest, work, and exist.
Jesus reminds us we are art and empowers us to make art.
There isn’t only one right way to do the job of glorifying God.  There are many ways, a million little ways, that Christ is formed in us and spills out of us into the world.  Emily Freeman

Let’s go live our art and let our created poems shine!

Blessings,

Nancy


All photos are mine and were taken in my yard.  Scripture from the NLT Bible.

And Then He Speaks Peace

lily 7 x - Copy

It had been a rough few days.

They were cowering behind locked doors.

They couldn’t wrap their minds around what happened.

Broken hearts.

Trying to comprehend.

But it was incomprehensible.

Afraid.

Afraid to move.

Afraid of the future.

Afraid to hope again.

Then he came.

The one they followed.

Their leader.

He could have said:

  • “Thanks guys.” (sarcastically)
  • “Why did you leave me”
  • “Why did you run?”
  • “Where were you when I needed you?”
  • “After all I’ve done, this is how you treat me?”
  • “Where is your respect?”
  • “When I spoke, were you even listening to me?”

He could have.

But he didn’t.

Instead he said:

“Peace be with you!”

And when we’re afraid.

When we’ve been hurt.

When we feel that we can’t go on.

When life is hard.

When burdens are heavy.

When friends leave.

When family is distant.

When life hurts.

When we don’t understand.

When tragedy strikes.

When illness invades.

When life gets messy.

When hope seems gone.

He comes.

And He speaks to us.

He speaks into our circumstances.

“Peace be with you!”

(Based on John 20:19-23)  To read the story click here ->Peace

Blessings,

Nancy

Daddy, Carry Me

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“Daddy, I can’t go.  I’m tired.”  Her hands reach up, “Daddy carry me. I’m scared.  It’s getting dark.  I can’t see.”

Like a good daddy he whisks her up into his arms and gently places her on his shoulders.

The evening is fading and the sun begins to withdraw behind the horizon.  Darkness isn’t far behind.

But she’s safe; secure in her father’s embrace and her fear subsides.

He sprints across the shore with confidence because he knows the way and she trusts him.

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will         strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.            Isaiah 41:10

Blessings!  Nancy ❤