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 https://www.goodreads.com/author/quotes/2876959.Charles_Haddon_Spurgeon (Philippians 2:13, KJV) |
With silence felt the dark's a robe as ears begin to ring. So oft life's sounds crowd past the lobe, that none could stop and sing. The crickets bow their violins, the toads each bass doth strum. The nightingales sing songs to men as porches bid them, "Come." The yard so bright a show to watch as fireflies pirouette. Eye candy sweet as butterscotch, a sight I'll ne'er forget. With eyes closed tight, I start to hear the nightly symphony of breezes through the trees so clear. What hope God speaks to me! Large trucks upon the highway groan. Dark cougars scream and wait. A chittering squirrel upon his throne protects his brood and mate. Reflections on the glassy lake, remembered cause me to look. The stars en masse an Earth-sky make. Their bliss an unwrit book. The whippoorwill and mockingbird, now strive for mastery. A deer lopes through the yard unheard reminding me, "Be free." by Jay O'Toole on June 2nd, 2020 |