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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)    |
Can't seem to move my feet, my hands or synapse flows. Couched between two nights' sleep are lethargic naps, too. by Jay O’Toole on May 17th, 2021 |
Photographer I dreamed I was a photographer creating in my own studio and on location, painting portraits with pixels, paper, ink & acrylics, capturing. --------------------------------- Gardener I dreamed I was a gardener creating beauty in great yards, placing hostas, hibiscuses, dianthuses, and coleuses on each stage, savoring. --------------------------------------- Pianist I dreamed I was a pianist playing in a church, lifting sonatas and concertos to the Lord, praying. -------------------------------------------- Poet I dreamed I was a significant poet writing in a castle, filled with white Christmas lights, forming new and glorious rhymes, rhythms, and gifts, immersing. -------------------------------------------------------- Novelist I dreamed I was a novelist smithing words in a peaceful, grand hall, writing epic journeys, and vacations for the mind, traveling. --------------------------------------------------- Preacher I dreamed I was a preacher speaking clearly in a cathedral, proclaiming all the Gospel's Good News, worshiping. ----------------------------------------- Traveler I dreamed I was a traveler seeing all the Lord's blessed Earth, enjoying every height and depth, adoring. by Jay O’Toole on May 14th, 2021 |
You opened up the green. You said, "It's time to go. The cold must take a hike, these months until return." But cold would not relent. But cold would not relent. It made its presence known. It nipped at summer flow'rs. The frost did not return, just respite 'fore the heat. by Jay O’Toole on May 13th, 2021 |
Gentle rain hath watered well the Earth and these good plants. Water well the words you tell to Home's blest occupants. Gentle rain enjoins to grow these gifts, that God hath made. Enjoin your heart to speak it so, His loving words obeyed. Gentle rain good life it gives to green ones living large. Enlarge your charity, that lives to bless your ev'ry charge. by Jay O’Toole on May 12th, 2021 |
This life is short with voices filled. Demands can overwhelm. We long for times when hearts are thrilled or peace, known by the elm. Just pause to think. Your heart may rest, while tasks on shelves are placed. The Lord speaks quiet whispers blest. Perfection is erased. Your life is short, but prayers fore'er lift incense to the Lord. Your thoughts are His when quiet there, still resting in His Word. A-waiting for His "still, small Voice" gives pausing thoughts great worth. Make your silent place your daily choice to grow in His new birth. (Psalm 46:10, KJV) by Jay O’Toole on May 11th, 2021 |
Before we lay a pate to rest, we give the soul to God to guide us as He knows it best. Forever we'll applaud. The prayerful heart can pray with words of many or of few alway connected with the Lord, who makes the life brand new. The prayerful one agrees that pray'r is like the breath of lungs. We live not long without it there, but with it, songs are sung. The prayerful life communes with He, Who made us, small and great. The smallest prayer of "Lord, I see," can save before too late. Consider ye, that prayer is given to all, who love the Son. If you would start your life to livin', confess. The battle's won. by Jay O’Toole on May 10th, 2021 |
| Happy Mother's Day, Dear Mom! Always and forever true. People want to be 'round you. Pleasantness in all you do Your a joy and healing balm. Mom, we love you ev'ry day. Opportunities you give. Time you use to help us live. Helpful words you bless and say. Everywhere you go is sweet. Really pretty. You're so neat. ' Punctuality, we meet. Serving God, we're taught to pray. Do you know how much we love the Angel Lady you've become? Your honor loving hearts behoove. We give you, Mother, love to bless. We give you hope of heart. We give you arms of joyful bliss. To you, we owe our start. These words seem merry not enough. These words don't speak you full. These words can't tell the world how tough you are, nor love's great pull. Dear Mom, accept these words now, please. We'd buy the world for you, or make a room to take your ease with nothing else to do. Dear Mom, we pray for God to bring you rain, while you're at home, that heart so full, you'd cry or sing. No jobs. Nowhere to roam. Dear Mom, you're loved from my heart so deep. I wish to give you all the joys and blessings, that you keep within for when I call, but nothing can bespeak the worth you truly, deeply mean to those you've known through life from birth, and all these days between. O, Mom, my heart is filled with tears. It can't pour out the truth, but thanks for loving me through fears, today, and from my youth. by Jay O’Toole on May 8th, 2021 |
grunting in the yard startled from its floral meal runs away to hide by Jay O’Toole on May 7th, 2021 |
When truly liked by those we know, we've favor, and to spare. When truly blest, in friendship grow our days are built with care. When given opportunity to blossom in our gift as favored ones we're fully free by each heart to others lift. A favored path is blossom-strewn by those, who give their best to others, who "just hang the moon," and pass each earthly test. A world of self-willed humans miss the blessings of the few, who do their best to greatness kiss. So favored as they do. The great are rarely known by all for favor comes to those, who serve the small and breathy call. The masses never know. by Jay O’Toole on May 6th, 2021 |
"For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any twoedged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart." (Hebrews 4:12, KJV) ------------------------------------------- Andúril, O, you, gallant blade in Aragorn's strong hand, knows victory forevermore in God's immutable Plan. The Ten Commands were never chose to be Salvation's course. Perfection lived through death and life by Christ is its blest Source. O, Narsil, broken ne'er to fight in blessing, not at all, until the command, "Restore, again. The broken places call." Commandments shards, a gnarly mess, until the rightful Heir set foot on David's Terran sod to wield its meaning there. The blessed days of the King have come through one lone rock-carved tomb. The foe was sliced, Narsil restored, and sheathed in hearts of whom the Truth is known and wielded right, and seeded there to bloom. This spirit sword must swiftly cut through all the noisome horde, until great Victory is known in the Presence of the Lord. Andúril e'er Salvation's Joy throughout the lasting Day. Its peace none ever can remove from One our price did pay. by Jay O’Toole on May 5th, 2021 |
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