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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)    |
Christmas week in restful house. Drink a cup of tea. Sip it slowly. Await the spouse. These colorful lights we see. Heavy load of work this week. Wait for Joe's warm bliss. Quiet moments, those we seek, coffee cup to kiss. The season's peace is hard to catch 'mid things we ought to do, but when it's o'er there stands a patch of waiting when we're through. Waiting in this Christmas rush is often hard to feel. To stand, and stare, and breathe, and hush makes Hope to seem more real. A comfy chair, a piping cup, while waiting takes its time. Some presents unbought when time was up, but heart renewed was prime. by Jay O’Toole on December 21st, 2021 |
Christmas treasures on the way to His wondrous birth. Christmas seen from day to day of surpassing worth. Christmas treasures in this week are often bit by bit. Christmas wisdom we must seek for hope, that we may get. Christmas treasures, little thoughts hold such awesome truths. Christmas things, that we were taught from our early youth. Christmas treasures, moment's peace. Coffee cup, so warm makes a Christmas, known release, free from all alarms. Christmas treasures, stop and list to the bird's lone call. Christmas hopes and truest bliss are wrapped in Christ, our all. by Jay O’Toole on December 20th, 2021 |
One more week of Christmas goodness. One more week to shop. One more week of thoughts and broodies, then will Santa stop. One more week of Christmas parties. One more week of sweets. One more week are tarts and Smarties, then to fat defeat. One more week of wrapping presents. One more week to hide gifts important to the residents, opened then with pride. One more week of Christmas singing, just to cause you to buy. One more week enticements bringing, on new clothes to try. One more week of Santa photos, "Get your pictures, here." One more week of manger grottos to give us meaning clear. by Jay O’Toole on December 17th, 2021 |
Christmas nights of lovely lights, and tuneful days beyond fill the heart with hope so bright, and everlasting bond. Quiet moments ev'ry eve, filled with fanblade beats. Breezes blown to rest retrieve. Wondrous Christmas eats. Two weeks off from school to play the children, youth in joy, wrap up warm to fun obey, and lighter thoughts employ. Christmas Eve, that night of nights, when Santa makes his run, and childlike hearts with smiles so bright wake up to see, "'Tis done." Then what is left for months to come, but Jadis' reign of ice, we cover all, each part and sum, surviving 'til it's nice. Remember well the lights and songs, while searching for the green. Rememer all those shopping throngs when presents can't be seen. Remember moments we embrace bring nourishment to hearts, that through Earth's grand prevenient grace the Lord will Hope impart. by Jay O’Toole on December 16th, 2021 |
One little present under the tree. Who is it for? What can it be? When it is opened what do we then? Visit our family? Visit our friend? One little present, now it is gone. Forlorn the tree when all is done. Christmas, the morning, happiest of days. Christmas, the afternoon. Over dismays. One little present waits through the months, then when it's seen, the heart's in the dumps. Anticipation, great joy in us builds, but when it is seen we lose what was filled. But one little present can ever be new. There's more to enjoy when first things are through. That spot in the heart, filled better than tea by bless-ed the Giver, the Son, it is He. One little Present from Bethlehem's cave was placed on a tree, and then in a grave. He raised after Sabbath to give life, that's new. This Present keeps giving each day, never through. by Jay O’Toole on December 15th, 2021 |
Thoughts of hope, thoughts of love, thoughts of truest Gift. Christmas day will reign Above, greatest Grace to lift. Make no tears as Christmas comes, and Christmas goes anon. Feel no loss, that Christmas sums are over when it's done. Know the Christ, Who came to Earth to save us from our sin. Know the Christ, Who is New Birth this victory to win. Christmas Day was just the start of life in God's Own Son. The long-playing record He'd impart still plays through ages won. When Christ within doth richly dwell this Christmas life fore'er is daily Hope, once freed from Hell, and blessings in His care. by Jay O’Toole on December 14th, 2021 |
Christmas comes but once a year to the beat of glad times living cheer to hold at bay the times of fear, that we too often know. The theme of Christmas is the day, that Christ, the Lord did come our way to save our souls from Sin's long fray, that blest new life may grow. Christmas Day's the finish line of wondrous season, joy sublime, then Life's again the normal kind of work, work, eat and sleep. Many months do pass the bridge of whys and hows. The obscure ridge, Horizon's face, it smiles a smidge 'fore darkness sinks in deep. To make this month great days of bliss the mass ignores for months, Christmas, for it's become a massive This of more to do, 'til done. "Where Are You, Christmas?" Modern song, that searches to correct the wrongs of misplaced values in the throng, 'til Truth has finally won. Eternity is over there, beyond the veil without a care for those, whose Present through a prayer, ever lives within. He came at Christmas time back then to live His Perfect Life o'er Sin, defeat the cross to victory win to ever Christmas know. by Jay O’Toole on December 13th, 2021 |
The strings of all the galaxies are threads by which He makes the Universe of Will, that frees from hopelessness, that shakes. How doth He make each man of Earth, each woman, child so blest? How doth He call from that first birth to birth, that passeth test? The razor's edge, that He must walk, to make a soul, that lives is not a line, that aught can chalk, but He, that true life gives. He knows my name. He knows my birth. He knows my ev'ry breath. He knows my farthest decimal's worth. He knows my day of death. But even so my day of Life He knows forevermore. He knows to keep my dearest, wife, for Child, I Him implore. I have no strength the Lasting Day will be my loves' own Home, but He that spoke the Word will say, and for their saving come. Each human breath, each beat of heart, sustained by His Great Hand. Each proffered Help from Earth's own start is by His Loving Plan. by Jay O’Toole on December 10th, 2021 |
Christmas hymns and carols, too, can fill each wintry night with praise and worship, heartfelt true, attending stars so bright. Fill, Lungs, with breath, and lift great worth to Jesus, He, Who died, and rose, again, in lasting Birth from stable birth applied. Now, sing we gifts from hearts of flesh to the Son, Who's God and Man. He laid on hay within the creche by God's eternal Plan. I know no song, that's better fit to praise His saving Gift than Christmas carols, hymns so writ the heart to daily lift. The Silent, ever Holy Night is Still, and Still, and Still. Eternity is ever right to suit His lasting Will. by Jay O’Toole on December 9th, 2021 |
Darkness hides. Colors shining abide, Goodly soldiers shine their colors strong. Angel forces stand their ground, proclaim their glad song to show the good is everlasting o'er the wrong. Candles join to make the wonders bright. Naught is lost. He sets right Nights of Lights. by Jay O’Toole on December 8th, 2021 |
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So beautifully written.