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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)    |
A sleepy mind must get some rest. Our days are full and nights are short. Redeem the time or make it sport. Spend the body without some rest without some sleep 'twill make life cheap, then Life's toll booth will be your test. But dividends will silence mort when sleepy mind doth get some rest. by Jay O'Toole on May 19th, 2020 |
This life is made of bridging times through which we're ne'er the same. The quarantine has given limes without much sweet to tame. And now it's time for fixing wings to my young one, who must fly. Her wings look like some shocks and springs, with mounted wheels so nigh. This summertime we learn to drive to safe explore our world. The Win-Win helps all drivers thrive with a flag of Joy, unfurled. One day she'll leave in the car alone and I'll be left to wait, and pray before the Father's Throne, that she'll return not late. Each schooling year just lopes away as Childhood's counting down. Please, help me cherish ev'ry day, 'til I see her cap and gown. Another gown will fill the stage, and some blest church's aisle to start a new life and start a new page as two now wear the smile. A cooing boy will fill her heart. They'll nuggle ev'ry day, until it's time for school to start, begin his steps away. Some year I'll see her come to drive her father to the store for spinach and some oil and chives, a meal and maybe more. She'll walk with me to greater heights to store my wisdom thoughts to bless our days and grace our nights for Christ, the Lord, Who bought Salvation rich, Salvation free, Salvation life for aye, that we would live together for He throughout the eternal Day. by Jay O'Toole on May 18th, 2020 |
"I think, therefore, I do exist," "Cogito, ergo sum" Rene Descartes in thinker's bliss thus digs the human's tomb. Yet, greater still, the Great I Am exists and naught dissuades. The Earth is here by His Great Plan, not slowed by palisades. Eternity, His lasting Home is opened to all trust. To live with Him, just hear His, "Come," eschewing human lust. His dealings with us seem quite slow. 10,000 years, a breath, eternal seeing makes us know, the choice is Life or Death. The days are flying fast away. Eternity is near. We'll live, exist th'Eternal Day with faculties most clear. by Jay O'Toole on May 16th, 2020 |
Cotton balls floating and twirling in air. Lighting en masse on a tree. Quilting the earth, transfixed in a stare. Lifting the heart to be free. Children are forming great clouds as they speak. Shiv'ring in parkas wrapped tight. The winter remains on landscapes most bleak, reflecting the blinding sunlight. Sunglasses making us see once again, peering through swirling white fluff. A playground 'twill be when youthful the grin, 'til the chill makes the throat sore and rough. The Giver of light, Reliever of heat, restores us through the chill of the day. The warmth of the heart in the joy, that we meet lifts to soar through the snowflake display. by Jay O'Toole on May 15th, 2020 |
"The Father giveth all to me, the ones, who are my children made. They shall be mine, and I will free their spirit, who once sin obeyed. "And him that cometh unto me, I never will reject, cast out. Forever saved he'll always be, beyond all questions and all doubt." This wondrous scripture can be found in John the 6th, and verse 3-7. Great hope will fill in truth abound about the days we'll spend in Heav'n. To know, that God regards me so is greater than my words can say. By Grace, I'm lifted and I grow, becoming all His Gift's display. -------------------------------------------------------------- Today's poem is an homage to the following verse. "All that the Father giveth me shall come to me; and him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out." (John 6:37, KJV) by Jay O'Toole on May 14th, 2020 |
Chorus: What a Rock on which to stand! Jesus, Savior, Wondrous Lord. Day by day He gives the plan. Jesus, Savior, Wondrous Lord. Verse #1: Build your house on solid Rock! Jesus, firm Foundation. Ev'ry pillar placed in lock. Jesus, firm Foundation. Verse #2: The house on sand will shifted be. No hope and no salvation. The thoughts of Man are not for me. Lord, make me a New Creation. Verse #3: Clearly Truth is Jesus Christ, "the way, the truth, the life" He is. On the cross, He paid the price. That from the third day e'er He lives. Chorus #2: Blessed Gift from God Above, Jesus, Savior, Wondrous Lord. Heav'n, my home, in lasting Love, Jesus, Savior, Wondrous Lord. Bridge: Jesus, Lord, the wondrous Rock! Jesus, Lord, the lasting King! Evermore His praises sing! by Jay O'Toole on May 13th, 2020 |
Begin each task and follow through. Consistency becometh you. Each daily day may seem quite long, until you stop and sing a song. All carpenters are building things, like tables, chairs, that food we bring. A brother, sister brought a throng to help the world just sing a song. We're sick of sickness trapping us. Let's hop aboard the music bus. We'll weakness leave and make us strong. Of "good and happy" sing a song. While looking up, we'll share a tune those better days, we'll see them soon. With Karen, Richard, we're not wrong to share our voice and sing a song. by Jay O'Toole on May 12th, 2020 |
Sitting like a doofus, waiting to be free from the little virus, trapping you and me. There will be no kissing, nor a bonny hug. See what we are mis-sing, lying on a rug. We must keep all lab-techs from their testy tubes, or we'll be a sad wreck from mistakes of noobs. Think we'd all be better off, playing in the yard, Jumping rope, not heavy cough, losing all that lard. Social distance spac-ing, "Buggies all, now leave!" Social contact tracing gives not much reprieve. Joe and Betty sitting in a big, tall tree. Experience of kissing caught not allergy. It was COVID-19, jumping throat to throat. Two weeks later doc seen, wrapped in Haz-Mat coat. Overdosing Zinc will surely make it leave. Juice of orange and swill. Remove it ne'er to cleave. Jumping, jumping, jumping, stronger ev'ry day. Health improved we're stumping viral cells at play. Sitting like a doofus, waiting to be free from the little virus, trapping you and me. by Jay O'Toole on May 11th, 2020 |
In the moments, by and by, when my life would rattle, shake, Someone brings me hope to try, start again, new steps to take. Stop and stare at barren wall. Part the clutter. Sit right down. God is near before I call, building spirit, lifting frown. Peaceful waiting settles heart. Worries mostly are not real. Stormy sea is His to part. Hope in Christ is mine to feel. Days of sickness chafe the soul, even when I'm mostly well. Give me, Lord, please, spirit whole. Help me live Your Truth to tell. Days of Earth in Mercy, few. Days in Heav'n will last for aye. Let me hear when life is through, "Goodly servant, with me stay." Find a corner. Listen deep. Savior's breath is sweet perfume. Servant's life, He'll always keep, throughout the path and through the tomb. Peaceful moments, day by day rest the life in gentle Hands. No more debt is left to pay kept by chords of Love's strong bands. by Jay O'Toole on May 9th, 2020 |
Solar panels light the night through LED bulbs' joy. Darkness flees as bright is right and softest glows employ. The panel soaks the warm sun's rays throughout the daylight hours. It shows its power through bulb displays, removing shadows dour. Each night is lit through selfless lights by the power they receive. The shadows chased by tones of whites, a gift they just believe. by Jay O'Toole on May 8th, 2020 |
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