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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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June 14, 2024 at 11:50pm
June 14, 2024 at 11:50pm
#1072661
humidity's thick
darkness covers half the earth
lanterns push it back


by Jay O’Toole
on June 14th, 2024


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2023 Quill Finalist
June 13, 2024 at 4:28pm
June 13, 2024 at 4:28pm
#1072604
Staying fresh with poems now
is really quite a trick.
The blank page stares. I don't know how.
I'm feeling slightly thick.

I like to write a poem through
the five days of the week,
but sometimes I can't make it new,
no matter how I seek.

'Tis then it's best to write about
the struggles of the day.
I've nothing left to laud, nor tout
no matter what I say.

These verses mostly mark the place
within my daily blog
to sit aside in slight disgrace
as coffee's new-formed bog.

An exercise of rhythm, rhyme
when subjects are undone,
revives the heart 'til most sublime
as word's new story's won.


by Jay O’Toole
on June 13th, 2024


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2023 Quill Finalist
June 12, 2024 at 11:27pm
June 12, 2024 at 11:27pm
#1072581
Questions come when much is done,
but not a lot is said.
Conflicts in between us won
when lines between are read.

Friendships smooth the rough between
when feelings are quite weak.
Strength of friends are often seen
when best for others seek.

Weekends come to give us rest,
but in between is stuff,
the work we do, the often test,
the muscles say, "Enough!"

Books are filled by many'a page
with conversations 'tween
characters, whose joy and rage
create some selfish scenes.

Hills are blest by wondrous views
as valleys lie between.
Darkness there may us confuse
when hills do light beams screen.


by Jay O’Toole
on June 12th, 2024


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2023 Quill Finalist
June 11, 2024 at 11:50pm
June 11, 2024 at 11:50pm
#1072539
It's hot in the South, once again,
attacking our health, foe or friend!
Our features from sweat now can blend.
To make us all cooler is quite a pretend.

It's hot in the South, don't cha know!
Let the mid-western dialect now grow,
that the coolness from there we may sow,
now here we could plant Minnasowta's good snow.

It's hot in the South, I declare
with humdiddity enough we can share!
Give your address, we'll mail it o'er there,
that you'll know what we feel. It's really quite fair.

It's hot in the South! Summer's long!
We can sing you a hot, sloppy song
'bout how work-clothes in suits feel just wrong,
but our BO can make us exceedingly strong.

It's hot in the South right as rain
for it comes after heat once again!
We live in our pools, it's quite plain,
while working from there we seem most insane!


by Jay O’Toole
on June 11th, 2024


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2023 Quill Finalist
June 10, 2024 at 6:27pm
June 10, 2024 at 6:27pm
#1072444
humidity grows
thunder rumbles in the sky
earth prepares to drink


by Jay O’Toole
on June 10th, 2024


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June 7, 2024 at 5:23pm
June 7, 2024 at 5:23pm
#1072308
Making things with my own hands
is wondrous, joyful, sweet.
Gifting is by God's Own Plans.
His Glory is replete.

Polyclay requires to be
the hands as very strong.
Necklaces or pendants see
as in the heart a song.

Needlepoint is finely tuned
to tie the threads toge'er.
Knit, crochet, embroidery soon
will be a gift to share.


by Jay O’Toole
on June 7th, 2024


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June 6, 2024 at 11:54pm
June 6, 2024 at 11:54pm
#1072261
Toot sweets
candies with sound,
Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang
Many songs the cast sang.
Candy-hand hound
was beat.

Nunplussed.
New job is best.
Captain and the children,
frog and 'cone bewild'rin',
through ev'ry test,
Love's trust.

Snow gone,
sisters they meet.
Love's the best ending goal.
Show's balm to make all whole.
Gen'ral they treat.
Snow won.


by Jay O’Toole
on June 6th, 2024


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2023 Quill Finalist
June 5, 2024 at 2:46pm
June 5, 2024 at 2:46pm
#1072191
When the words don't lightly come
in the thoughts or muted dumb,
anxious life may be the sum,
needing God's Lone Touch.

Troubled days and nights on Earth,
fretting about the second birth,
knowing naught of human worth,
that His Love is much.

Come to Christ, who lives, again,
Savior through the cross to win
Elect souls of many men,
now and evermore.

We can't save a sinful soul,
ours nor others make us whole.
Christ's Salvation, finest gold
from His lasting store.


by Jay O’Toole
on June 5th, 2024


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2023 Quill Finalist
June 4, 2024 at 8:30pm
June 4, 2024 at 8:30pm
#1072159
For every drop of rain, that comes
are gifts, that come as well.
The temperatures of heat in sums
are lower temps, that dwell.

Each drop of rain now shines the grass,
the flowers, and every tree.
The sunset must in grayness pass,
before the night can be.

The drops of rain in softness land
to make the rhythm sure.
This needed hope by God is planned,
that dryness knows it's cure.

The drops of rain fall sometimes few,
but oft with many friends.
The land's more quenched when they are through
in the service they attend.

These drops of rain in truth are blest.
The days of thirst can part.
Surviving dryness' every test,
"How Great, O Lord, Thou Art!"


by Jay O’Toole
on June 4th, 2024


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2023 Quill Finalist
June 3, 2024 at 11:54pm
June 3, 2024 at 11:54pm
#1072119
Summer in June in the hemisphere up north,
when birds as they croon are declaring it forth.
The mildness up north mellows the heat of the south,
while the colors of plants meet the praise of the mouth.

How does it all work, that when terribly hot
the fun in the sun is the pool many have got?
We have work to do, while we sweat through our clothes,
but the dryness of taste is not found in those.

The pansies down south bid the fondest "Goodbye,"
while the pansies up north still have the smiles, that are nigh.
Hibiscuses grace most of the hemisphere, here.
These tropical plants thrive down south, it is clear.

Bright the sun throughout June every day pushing the night.
Finding some way to rest, while the heat's in its might
is a challenging task for the jobs in the sun,
but vacations are best as some down-time is won.


by Jay O’Toole
on June 3rd, 2024


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