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 |    We live much of life amid unique choices. Joy is anchored in The One beyond our life. |
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“There are times when solitude is better than society, and silence is wiser than speech. We should be better Christians if we were more alone, waiting upon God, and gathering through meditation on His Word spiritual strength for labour in his service. We ought to muse upon the things of God, because we thus get the real nutriment out of them. . . . Why is it that some Christians, although they hear many sermons, make but slow advances in the divine life? Because they neglect their closets, and do not thoughtfully meditate on God's Word. They love the wheat, but they do not grind it; they would have the corn, but they will not go forth into the fields to gather it; the fruit hangs upon the tree, but they will not pluck it; the water flows at their feet, but they will not stoop to drink it. From such folly deliver us, O Lord. . . .” ― Charles Spurgeon “Our anxiety does not empty tomorrow of its sorrows, but only empties today of its strengths.” ― C. H. Spurgeon “Hope itself is like a star- not to be seen in the sunshine of prosperity, and only to be discovered in the night of adversity.” ― Charles Haddon Spurgeon “If sinners be damned, at least let them leap to Hell over our dead bodies. And if they perish, let them perish with our arms wrapped about their knees, imploring them to stay. If Hell must be filled, let it be filled in the teeth of our exertions, and let not one go unwarned and unprayed for.” ― Charles Spurgeon “A Bible that’s falling apart usually belongs to someone who isn’t.” ― Charles Spurgeon “Visit many good books, but live in the Bible.” ― Charles Spurgeon “When your will is God's will, you will have your will.” ― Charles Spurgeon https://www.goodreads.com/author/quotes/2876959.Charles_Haddon_Spurgeon (Philippians 2:13, KJV)    |
| "I want to go and do this thing. It really might be fun." "You shouldn't go. A bee might sting, and harm you somehow, Son." "Or maybe I could go that place, and work, and play, and do." "That's not so very good apace for one as slow as you." "Well, what about a book to write? I think that's really nice." "Rejection there can really bite, and charge your heart a price." So many times I sit right down, defeated and alone when I encounter someone's frown, and give them my life's throne. So many times I would succeed, if I would simply walk. To take a step in grown-up lead, to do, instead of talk. Are there defeats, that I would know when exercising "Try"? Oh sure, but "Yes," is where I'd grow to own the life, called, "Mine." I have the chance to visit "Yes," but now this Terror reigns. It screams to me, "Defeat, not bless! You'll fail, and sit in chains!" "That may be true, but facing fears is what a grown-up does. The child in me could sit in tears, since bees are known to buzz, "But now's the time to grow up for so many times in past, I've walked up to a lock-ed door, and sat where strength was cast. "Oh, SHUT UP, NO, AND LEAVE ME BE! It's time to visit "Yes," and from your clutches, newly free to love my life and BLESS!" "So many times" are by-gone days, that keep me from the bad, and keep me from some good displays, that I have never had. To visit "Yes" may rosy be, or I could slip on ice. The brave ones there can newly see. I'll take my own advice. by Jay O’Toole on October 23rd, 2023   |
My prep is done, each exercise. I now must gather parts to make the story be as wise as needed for all hearts. My prep is done to read again each exercise and thought, that when it's through my book will win, and wisdom will be taught. My prep is done as NaNo looms. The task will start anon. Must find some peace in many rooms, until the words are done. My prep is done. I must be swift when novel days are here. The final book will be a gift with the message made so clear. My prep is done. The words I'll write are often in the dark, expressed when others sleep at night, some thoughts may newly spark. My prep is done. Now, meditate upon the novel's tale, that other souls, whose hopes still wait are gifted without fail. My prep is done. Now, hope 'twill be my novel writ as well. So many pages, words to see with many tales to tell. by Jay O’Toole on October 20th, 2023 |
The mirror doesn't like me much. It shows to all my face. One wonders, if a gentler touch would be in love a grace. The mirror shows an older guy. Someone I've yet to meet. Would I feel like I need reply, if he spoke on the street? The mirror doth not show the Me, I've always known I am. The guy inside wants not to see the mirror's fiendish sham. The mirror should now restore all the youthfulness of who stands 'fore its shiny, silver wall without a hopeful clue. The mirror's s'posed to just reflect the one, I've always known. In honor, it must genuflect, ignoring how I've grown. But Science is the watchword here. the mirror's just the tool. It shows what is to others clear. The years are often cruel. The mirror offers some advice. "A smile for all is best." It costs no mint, nor kingly price to radiate, "I'm blest." by Jay O’Toole on October 19th, 2023 |
How do we know without a doubt, that something is quite true? How do we work the questions out, until the doubts are through? How do we find a stable slab on which to plant our feet? Where do we find a word to grab, that builds hearts on repeat? We find The One, Who is The Truth, and rest on what He says. We question not, that from His youth Redemption's Grace is His. We read The Word of God each day, and lean upon His Heart. He is the Life, the Truth, the Way, Salvation from the Start. (John 14:6, KJV) by Jay O’Toole on October 18th, 2023 |
| A love, that keeps on loving 'til the end is proved to be more valuable than gold. Imperfect more than I could e'er amend Forgiven all, I'm honored more than told. How many days the unseen anchor drags to awful depths, depression can bestow! How many more might see my heart in rags, 'cept for the loving lady I do know? A life, that's lived in love forever thrives because this Love is given from Above. In wisdom, Love is minced with sage and chives to flavor days of humanness with love. A love, that keeps on loving is the best, tenaciously committed through each test. by Jay O’Toole on October 17th, 2023 |
| The world was made by Jesus Christ, The One, Who came to die. Upon His Head was Sin so priced, the debt He paid was my. Upon the third day, Christ arose from where He lay in state. He now doth know the saved ones, those. Fore'er their lives are great! Creator, He made Heaven and Earth. Fully God, and fully Man. Salvation bought to gift New Birth. Perfection lived by Plan. The Bible, His biography, has not one error proved. Conversion changes all of thee, that none in Him are moved. His virgin birth, His perfect life, His Sacrifice once done, each sinner chosen in his strife is birthed as God's blest son. He died, was buried, and arose by His Own Pow'r complete. The second birth the chosen knows to lay faith at His Feet. He comes with shout and trumpet blast to Rapture up His Bride, Our crowns before Him we will cast, and in His Gospel hide. by Jay O’Toole on October 16th, 2023 |
| The dailiness of daily tasks can often overwhelm the mind. When sleep doth not what the body asks our life may feel somewhat unkind. The dailiness of home and work may seem a never-ending road. My weariness may show each quirk while trying my best to lift each load. The dailiness of doing more may challenge me to faithful be. The many things I did before are harder now for aging me. by Jay O’Toole on October 13th, 2023 |
| Some hopes we keep upon the hearth of hearts undying longed-for day. Some strength we pray will find its birth, before the last word we may say. Some hopes we keep are just beyond the reach of what we each can do. Some thoughts are skipping on the pond of struggling days we thought were through. Some hopes we keep can't live as real, since they are not reality. Some reels of mem'ry may not heal. The pains in there may always be. Some hopes we keep need Someone's touch to give our hearts new room to breathe. Some days are struggles yet so much, that doubts around our minds do wreathe. Some hopes we keep will change to peace in His Own Hands' great saving Grace. Some pains will fin'lly find release when resting in His hiding place. by Jay O’Toole on October 12th, 2023 |
While writing all the thoughts I think I plan to write a longer book. The climax puts souls on the brink, while sipping coffee in my nook. The characters, some good, some bad make up this reeling tug-of-war. Solutions make my readers glad. In victory, we're keeping score. The theme will paint the canvas clouds. The background helps us all to know. The thinning of the actor crowds will draw the hero forth to go. For fifteen minutes ev'ry day, I brainstorm ways to novel write. Sometimes it's twice or four to stay and post assignments in the night. To read and edit what I write, it takes some time to meditate. I stop and catch some snacking bite, and sip a cup, that's rather great. by Jay O’Toole on October 11th, 2023 |
The sunset comes as ‘round we go. This day is over soon. As fading light can not much show, the dark brings change of tune. This world of green will dark sticks be as sky once blue, now black has just now moon and stars to see with hope in greater lack. Begonias red, lantana warm, and hostas verdant soft were gifts of joy to my own marm to keep her heart aloft. Bright orb of day, ‘til Son doth come to give thee rest for aye, thy service good, the part, the sum, is honored, come what may. by Jay O’Toole on October 10th, 2023 |
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