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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)    |
currents move what floats daily tides of moon have pull jellyfish are moved by Jay O'Toole on July 20th, 2020 |
Joyfulness upon the Earth is joyfulness fore'er. Beginning with His Grand New Birth the road is paved to there. But is it paved with smoothness free from earthly rocks and cracks? Or is our Hope in Grace with He, Who knows our earthly lacks? Our days of Earth are Bootcamp few. We're tasked with learning Truth, that when our Terran days are through, we'll be renewed in youth. The joyfulness we know each day is not always in bliss for Christ, the Lord, we ought obey, to grab His Feet and kiss. Some days below we're caused to know, that happiness is naught, but when we sing Above I trow new happiness is wrought. The Joy of all His service true is peace within His Wings for Joy will last when Happy's through, a steadiness it brings. Will awful days dance 'cross our path, while breathing earthly smog? 'Tis often true, before we laugh, we drain the muddy slog. Though trying days we live down here, the best days will ne'er end. 'Twas Christ, the Lord, for Joy most clear, rose Victor o'er our sin. For Joy, we've longed to fully know, now beds and boards with us to nerve our arms with strength below, our hearts to lately truss. The Lord of Glory knows our frame. His Joy makes Hope abound. Please, list for when He calls our name in Him, we're fin'lly found. by Jay O'Toole on July 18th, 2020 |
To live the days of life as full would be my heart's desire. Released from this world's gravity pull to soar in spirit high'r. The ones, who birthed me long ago, have parted to their reward. Their pat-on-the-back would let me know they're pleased with me as bard. 'Twas in my youth I learned to play the piano quite a bit, but now the waning need today oft tempts me just to quit. I sang a man of tenor tone in high school, college, both, but styles of music, that alone hath left me by its growth. The poet's pen hath been companion most of my long years. 'Twill be my friend when facing canyon of my last dark fears. This teacher in me tries to find some hope, that through my words enlightened students, no more blind will fly in mind as birds. To sit and write from day to day seems meager at its best, but when we see at last we'll say, "Our lives are truly blest." Our dearly departed do they see the days we're living now? Will Mom and Dad be proud of me? They are proud now I trow. by Jay O'Toole on July 17th, 2020 |
I'm daily hoping to be blest. Through life's great twists and turns, this test, peace and rest. The fluffy clouds of whitest fleece shade me from the hot sun, release, rest and peace. Arrow of doubt and worry taunts round the corner to past days' haunts. Relief wants. My enemies know all my bad. To beat me down makes them quite glad. "Help me, Dad!" My Father made and knows my frame. My good and bad are lost the same. Knows my name. My peace and rest are from the cross. Christ knew my worst and bore that loss, arms across. Our worth is not in perfect days. He saves not through enduring praise. Lost ones raise. Our peace and rest with life beyond endures in peace, 'til this one's gone, lasting bond. by Jay O’Toole on July 16th, 2020 |
Jesus, Savior, pilot me, while the days of Man do flee. Keep me looking to Your shore from whence You have come before. Stormy days are on their way. Be my Hope and lasting stay. Jesus, Savior, take my hand. Help me follow Your blest plan. Before Thy Kingdom's ever peace, we would know Thy rest, release. Through this pilgrim land of Earth, guide me by Thy blest New Birth. Jesus, Savior, guide me best with Your Hand, the True, the Blest. Hopeful days come near the pier, relieving doubt, to banish fear. Jesus, Savior, pilot me to the land fore'er with Thee. Jesus, Savior, by Thy wings cause me rest with a voice that sings. Be my near and trusted Friend every moment to defend. Pilot me, Dear Savior, Lord, by the truths found in Your Word. by Jay O’Toole on July 15th, 2020 |
"4 Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud 5 or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. 6 It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. 7 Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance." (I Corinthians 13:4-7, NLT) Love is patient to a fault and kind to everyone. Loving hearts have no Jealousy Vault. Boastful souls are not His son. The prideful, rude are not Earth's salt. The demands of Self are never done. Irritatable hearts can't love for irritation sees just me. Records are for God Above. From wrongings, I'd be free. The JOY of Love is Just enough. It's glad when Right is done for Love finds JOY in truthful stuff, and Truth, that wins is One. Love will try and try, again. Love keeps its faith fore'er. Love hopes, until it fin'lly wins, endures from here to there. by Jay O’Toole on July 14th, 2020 |
green all o'er the yard tassels shake out many seeds background for the flow'rs by Jay O’Toole on July 13th, 2020 |
It creeps upon my average frame. It makes my life a heavy load. A trudging road each day the same to shorten life's old dusty abode. I eat my spinach, fresh the leaves. I eschewed the sugar, Stevia stayed. To eat in wisdom often grieves my heart as belly fat's displayed. The days of walking gain no laud as Weight, the silent villain, drapes his bag of heaviness on the bod like a vine of bulging, ruddy grapes. So many years ago I ran, and kept the weight with ease at bay. I ate without great Wisdom's Plan, and lived a lean, most good display. But now eschewing foolish meals, and parking far from shops I use, the weight in front, it sad reveals unhealthy life without excuse. When will I find the hidden key to lose the weight, be strong, again? I'm desperate from this weight to be free, to feel a saint, untrapped by sin. This silent slug, unwanted, vile retains its resident abode upon my frame these years awhile unwelcome burden, heavy load. Begone, you demon fat of Hell! Decry thy filth in Jesus's Name! My body now made newly well must show great health to give Him fame! Too long you've made my body slow! Metabolism, fire thee up! Though older, you will wondrous grow, and use well food in daily sup! The best of days, the last on Earth. Though fewer, they'll be greatly used. Dear Body, may you know a New Birth with health embrace, and fat refused. by Jay O’Toole on July 11th, 2020 |
Silence moves from gray to black. There is no word. There is no word. Silence moves from loss to lack. There is no word. There is no word. Such heaviness upon the soul. There is no word. There is no word. The adipose is cleaving whole. There is no word. There is no word. To pray within the Spirit’s care. The word is light. The word is light. To pray in Hope. The Spirit’s there. The word now bright. The word now bright. The weighty silence lifts to rest. A hopeful word. A hopeful word. The Spirit’s balm. Now, fully blest. The living Lord. The living Lord. by Jay O’Toole on July 10th, 2020 |
Laughter lifts the heart to health from the dregs of down to wealth. Giving Joy and funny jokes full of life and little pokes. That laughter is a wondrous rest. It makes me feel so truly blest. On Earth it’s not for ev’ry day, Heaven’s Joy’s fore’er displayed. Christian’s heart sees more to smile with new blessings ev’ry mile. Jesus gives us living Joy Hope and Mercy to employ. Grace for daily living here. Hope forever over there. Laughter is His gift to us. Truly blest to daily trust. by Jay O’Toole on July 9th, 2020 |
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So beautifully written.