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 |
What wondrous Joy has been my life! To live each day with this great wife, may God give years on years to come, that days are blest and so the sum. Her giftings soar beyond the sky. I see her flying up so high. Support I will, each livelong day. Her truest work is joyous play. We love our days walked side-by-side. We take turns as each other's guide, but God, Who joined our hearts as one has saved, redeemed us in His Son. Though immature we were back then, a teenaged girl, and basically a man, such foolishness God's Wisdom work to mold an unsure lass and sort of a jerk into a couple now made strong, not of our own, but of His song. He's used the years to smelt the tin, that when He's through His Glory would win. I'm staggered by amazing grace, that shows this Joy, reveals His Face. I have no pow'r to make this life, that's weathered days of harshest strife. I'll say it now and say it e'er, "My bless-ed life is most unfair for if deserving measures aught, He missed the truth as I've been taught, "But if He measures by His Grace my abject life has with Him Place. My wife, who's aptly 'Angel' named gives love to me and never shame." She tells me "I do love her good in wondrous days, and unsure mood." 'Tis my great pleasure her to gift my heart of hope in hers to lift. "I thank, Thee, Lord, for these long years You've paved the road and saved from fears. Please, help us serve You through our days, two trophies for Your vast displays." by Jay O'Toole on July 30th, 2020 |
Daily we've a job to do. Take a breath and when we're through, take a breath and once again do it o'er, until we win. Breathing is each moment's task. Take a breath. We need not ask. Give our lungs the gift of air. Joyful hope, without a care. Breathing helps our minds to rest. Breathing deeply, strength for test. Chest expands, and then release. Hope comes in to purpose please. Daily life with breaths unknown, 'til some cause doth health dethrone. Leave us, Virus. Come no more. May each strong breath God restore. Breathing comes by God's Own Hand. Strength of life, and hope to stand. Daily we must thank his Grace for each breath of earthly place. by Jay O'Toole on July 30th, 2020 |
For when the Word of God came down to Earth, it was not in the mother tongue I speak, my heart, that beats, would know His great New Birth, if only I could read the Word I seek. But by His Grace, He changed the words for me. Translating Truth into some words I know. And now salvation's gift I've come to see is free. Receive and start to daily grow. King James bequeathed his dialect for all, though difficult for modern minds to grasp. These ancient words can teach your heart to call, eschewing sin bequeathed by lying asp. We rightly slice the word for ev'ry heart. (II Timothy 2:15c, KJV) New Living words can, also, bring this start. by Jay O'Toole on July 29th, 2020 |
The perfect goodness of the glorious Lord is found within the pages of The Book. Throughout, He's shown the Master of the Word, the Savior unto Whom we all should look. Creation made He perfect in each way, but humans sinned and broke the looking glass. The Son returned to die and save the Day. He rose the third, the first of His new class. The Victory, He won that bless-ed week restores perfection past Meggido's vale. The Truth He is, is Truth we all should seek. The Word of God, not just a bard's long tale. The One, Who made is He, Who wins it all. His tender Voice doth proffer each heart's call. by Jay O'Toole on July 28th, 2020 |
"I lift my longing eyes unto the hills. From there my help is coming by His Hands. My help comes from the Lord as He best wills for heaven and earth are made of His great plans. "He won't permit your foot from being moved. The One, Who keeps you, knows not slumber's rest. Behold, He Israel's Keeper's ever proved. He will not slumber, sleep, nor miss a test. "The Lord's thy keeper from thy ev'ry foe. The Lord's thy shade upon thy strongest arm. The sun won't smite thee in the day I trow, nor smiting moon by night to cause alarm. "The Lord preserves from evil in thy soul, preserving place and time to e'er be whole." by Jay O'Toole on July 27th, 2020 |
To wake up with so much to do today, I feel o'erwhelmed with little strength to act. Becoming is more than the hopes I say, it wrestles off the things I think I lack. Begin attending ev'ry kitchen dish. The clean ones have their place upon the shelf. The dirty need a rinse and hopeful wish before impending heat will blast itself. The furry babies need their kibbles, "NOW!" Her majesty, the dog, hath what to do. Before demands, my strength would lately bow, and find the couch for winking when they're through. The days of weariness seem effort's waste, until the love, we share I'm quick to taste. by Jay O'Toole on July 25th, 2020 |
When the Lord in flesh and blood, He walked this dusty sod, the early church was in the bud attended by One God. How many are the twists and turns we've taken, since those days! For One God do we daily yearn or for popular displays? Please help us meditate on truth You gave us at the first. Restore our hearts each day to youth, our spirits for You thirst. Remind us of the ones, who served in want or plenty, all. For none of us have e'er deserved Your matchless Gospel Call. by Jay O'Toole on July 24th, 2020 |
Rest for each soul hopeful joy gracious friends, who wait abounding for the new day. by Jay O'Toole on July 23rd, 2020 |
The blessing 'mid a cooler June was wondrous to behold. The days of heat came quickly, soon, make pure the heart of gold. The days of Christmas are quite cool, if not most cold the Day. Our focused thoughts become the tool, relieving Heat's dismay. To hear the carols writ for Joy abounding days of lights. What cooler thoughts can we employ throughout the season bright? With AC strong, and fan on high, an hour's snowy frost will help the heart relief to buy at very little cost. Make dark the room with twinkling lights a-playing through the eyes. Just wear a sweatshirt 'mid faux frostbites, Summer's gift surprise. Let Santa sleep in sandy clothes. Shamu upon the beach. Vacation time's a spate of doze before his List to reach. A Babe new born in smelly hay. A birthday shared in the cold. The Savior came on the Earth to stay "to search for hidden gold." (Luke 19:10) by Jay O'Toole on July 22nd, 2020 |
wet remains the air animal tongues pant to rest green lush, hard to move by Jay O'Toole on July 21st, 2020 |