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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)    |
My living space, becoming small. I'm here within. I've none to call. Is there some hope, that all's not lost? This separation has a cost. My tiny life has kept at bay the loving souls, who come my way. I'd give them hugs if I knew how, but all I've now is "wave and bow." My life of smallness in a room has four main walls, a kind of tomb. Before we start to live, again, defeat we must this virus sin. I have not very much to do, but look for water stains so new. Yet, rare do stains as this appear. The roof is fixed and hope is clear. The others, who are like me some were often wont my house to come, but now their faces I see rare, which causes oft my heart to care. Fie, Bitterness, from me be gone! My Day of sadness, now new dawn to climb the mount of hopeful view. I'm sick of thee, for aye eschew. My soul's great battle, day to day, is living from my loves away. I see the news by YouTube post as Sickness makes it's new day's boast. But get a canvas, sling some paint for this dark day a thief it ain't. My creativity shall live. More goodness to my world I'll give. I have some wire to jewelry make, and knitting yarn to joyous take a-binding knots complete the round as newly necklace, there be found. A business now bequeaths me start. This distance from my world imparts a gift to draw me close, again. No more defeat. It makes me win! by Jay O'Toole on May 25th, 2020 |
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