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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)    |
We comb our hair, and brush our brows, enjoy a little mirth. The calendar before us bows. Our life we've lived in worth. Our eyes are open to the world. A little boy looks out. He needs a set of arms, unfurled, to bring his hope about. "Let's sit and rest a little while upon this porch and list to birds and chimes, that make us smile in soft-toned peace and bliss." "Oh, Yeah. That's what I wanna do. I'll lie down on your lap, and in a minute, maybe two, I'll take myself a nap." The days of youth in this boy lives, unknowning present care. The view my kitchen window gives shows sun and joy out there. I smooth the chesnut locks, unseen to other eyes but mine, protecting him from all that's mean, from hearts so hard and blind. In gentleness of trust, unmoved, in long breathes, deep, he sleeps. Some days long past must be reproved, but God, the Just One keeps. "Are you my Dad?" He's now alert. "In some ways, though not all. You need a dad. Your heart is hurt. A strong man hears your call." "But you are strong. You're just right here. You'll be a dad to me." These wisdom words, so soft and clear, have the needed power to free. To be a man, the daily choice, protects the child within to give this one a fearless voice, my long-remembered twin. by Jay O’Toole on September 8th, 2020 |
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