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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)    |
| Chilly morning, 32 keeps me in the house and warm, Outside has some things to do, but bundled up, there's no alarm. Chilly morning wakeful thoughts, heater churning help today, knitting scarves through many knots, whiles the time, concerns away. Chilly morning, work tonight, needing rest to better be. Stay in peace throughout the light. Walk in peace when work I see. Chilly morning, quiet house, hopeful time with my Dear Lord. Precious daughter, loving spouse, three of us hide in His Word. by Jay O’Toole on January 5th, 2024   |
| Cold days go to sleep so fast. Nights are long, pressed in my soul. Twinkle lights make the craft room warm. Winter waiting for the sun takes time. "Come quickly, Lord. The Earth is cold." by Jay O’Toole on January 4th, 2024 |
| It's time to put away some things, that make the Christmas season bright. It's time to warm the heart, that sings since winter oft hath need of light. It's time to give The Lord first place through every day of this new year. It's time to share his Gift of Grace with those, who live a life of fear. It's time to be as called we are throughout each moment, month, and day. It's time to shine our light so far, that other souls would him obey. It's time to live what we believe, since th'years of Time are fading fast. It's time His Word to hold and cleave, thus knowing His Hold will e'er last. It's time to honor He, Who saves the one full dead in all his Sin. It's time to see He lifts from graves the spirits, that can't save, nor win. It's time to see He chooses some to saving Grace by His Dear Son. The ones He calls are they, who come by drawing Grace, that's ever done. It's time to see, that He preserves Elect ones by His Own blest Will. It's time to see, that he who serves can do so by The Lord's Dear Skill. It's time to put away the things, that keep us tied to earthly light. It's time to warm each heart, and sing since Time of Grace is always bright. by Jay O’Toole on January 3rd, 2024 |
| To focus on the good, that's come, the good, that is, the good, that's yet to be requires effort, strength, and some of what we hope, and what we've yet to see. The past has left its marks upon the face, that in the mirror frowns or smiles. The groaning body with its yawn finds refuge in the nap of daily whiles. Some poem words of scribed display. This writer prays the written word will bless. Some blankness cannot ever say emotions, that the heart would plainly stress. To fish for words in murky mind, What taffy-pulling is the thought to writ! Where is the hope to share if blind when struggling for some meaning wrapped with wit? by Jay O’Toole on January 2nd, 2024 |
| It's something new of something old. That's how a year is made. Each hope and day, that's truly bold was in Creation laid. The newness of the year's first day shows Earth's first day back when The Lord made all by words He'd say, so perfect without Sin. This year is fresh with days to write, and stories, yet untold. Each rough draft's crafted in the sight of He, Who plans do hold. Blest days of spring with life once more are blooms from what once died. The summer heat holds crops in store. Fall's harvest brings inside. 'Til this old year is laid to rest 'neath Time's cold, chilly ground. This baby's cries are truly blest as from Time's womb, unbound. In twelve months' time from babe to sage this year will come and go, and HIStory will add a page of words and deeds to know. Please tune my heart to bring You praise, Great Lord of Lasting Day, and cause more of th'Elect be raised. Our Debt You once did pay. by Jay O’Toole on January 1st, 2024 |
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