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Rated: E · Book · Personal · #2172808
We live much of life amid unique choices. Joy is anchored in The One beyond our life.
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
(Philippians 2:13, KJV)


https://www.goodreads.com/author/quotes/2876959.Charles_Haddon_Spurgeon

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May 21, 2019 at 10:04pm
May 21, 2019 at 10:04pm
#959415
The sweetest birth and the sweetest song both start the life of Quest,
he walked through the door to one great wrong, now all of Life's a test.

The silent crickets and the flying birds alarmed him when he stood
outside his homey cave with the green and brown of the faithful wood,
alerting him, that something new was not entirely good.

The boulder slamming near him made his face "explode" en masse.
His once-safe home became a rock-strewn tragedy, alas.
In turning toward the shaking, he fell away from the crevasse
to tumble headlong upon the wounding rocks, past shrieking birds,
which spoke their volumes without ever utt'ring human words.
The lumpy, bearish flesh now slumbered past what once was heard.

"I wonder where I've been and what I've done and how I'll eat.
"I wonder who I am and where is Dad and how'll we meet.
"I wonder where I'll spend the night and find some straw for heat."

Quest fell asleep a pile of wounded bear and dusty fur.
He slept for days and woke in muddy rain with life unsure.
These earthen "gloves" cast Quest about in ways that seemed a blur.
This bear felt like a lump of clay pressed down by mud-caked hands
against hard trees and pointy rocks, through soupy, leafy plans.
He screamed for help o'er monstrous winds, unsure he still stood on land.

Quest stopped a-slosh in a marshy nest, a sodden suit of earthy weight
in gratitude of what he had, amid sorrows known of late.
"I thank you, God, for helping me land in a soft and gentle place.
"Please, show me how to live each day in steps of growing grace."

If I survive, I need good thoughts about the good to come.
I'm where I am and where I'll be by what I do, the sum.
I feel like crying, (yes, I do,) but now I must survive.
If now I live through dangers great, I'll find my folks and thrive.


by Jay O'Toole
on May 21st, 2019


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/777stan/day/5-21-2019