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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


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

(Philippians 2:13, KJV)

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July 1, 2021 at 5:45pm
July 1, 2021 at 5:45pm
#1012868
The wrathful clouds make dark their threats
to weary my stretched heart.
My thoughts of what's to come bring sweats,
and sparks of fear do start.

"Can ever there be hope, again?
Can all be whole, aright?
"
"My arms are here. Your hope is thin.
I have the needed might.
"

The cloudy days have small duress.
This life is rather short.
Their lightning strikes and booms impress,
until these times abort.

Just rest in Him, Who sleeps through the tests.
The barque so tossed and turned,
Just trust the heart of He, Who rests
when others’ hope has burned.

The place to sleep, though soaking wet
becomes a feather bed
when the peace of Christ, Who paid the debt,
fills the heart of one once dead.


by Jay O’Toole
on July 1st, 2021


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