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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)    |
The poem writ when I was young, explored the depths of angst. Of filly foal, my heart had sung with no response, nor thanks. The exercise of writing verse renewed my wounded soul. emotions poured, the best from worst, and quickly I was whole. "Oh, thank you, Lord, for giving me peace. This medicine is great! If you'll give me this gift and increase, for you, I'll write from this date." The years have passed as poems flow. I write of Lord and love. Few gifted ones I've come to know, but I've guidance from Above. But much has changed, since The Poet's Place has been my friendly home. They've helped renew and lift in grace, while paring a wordy tome. Philosophy's the steering gale in which the barque makes way. Proverbs 3 still billows sail to nerve what fingers say. I trust the Lord with all my heart. My understanding's small. I lean not on my self-filled part. His name is the one I call. (Proverbs 3:5) In all my ways I honor Him, at least I try this do, and when my best is rather slim, He guides my paths so true. (Proverbs 3:6) I try to write of earthly things as classic poets taught, but when I stray, my heart still sings of Christ, my spirit's bought. My words still light and rest ensconced in hearts, who love the Lord. I live my life for one response. "Well done," the Master's word. by Jay O'Toole on February 3rd, 2020 |
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