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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)    |
| The coolish eve of day's near past was eerie for the month, July. The chocolate peppermint repast brought forth a mood without reply. The cold could live but in my mind, while torrents came from sweaty pores. My thoughts of Christmas ever find their respite in remembered lores. What Joy on warm and hotter days! What dreams of air-conditioned "snow"! What Christmas moments on display! What silent peace 'mid Heat we know! What purpose could be possible to think of Christmas in this blast of Weather's large, and charging bull o'errunning Santa's lonely cast? A breath we need to quickly take to slow down. Make the best of this. Just pause and wait, an AC break. Enjoy a peppermint as bliss. A hot cocoa makes a joyful mouth in breezes cold as frosty days. A chocolate in the hottest South needs air-conditioned strong displays. This artificial Christmas cold survives in a room or smallish place, where twinkling lights with garland bold make moments warm, and heat erase. Each joy in this most cherished time recalls the simpler, colder swath of moments missed in summer's prime when bodies need a thinner cloth. As hotdogs cook you on the flame, this eerie sight doth call to mind the hearth and coziness the same in winter's den 'mid white so blind. Prompt for Christmas in July: "Peppermint, Chocolate, Cold, Eerie, Joy" Form: Quatrains of iambic tetrameter with abab rhyme scheme Lines: 36 by Jay O’Toole on July 18th, 2023  |
The music is the reason. The music makes the season. The music tells the story best. Through music we are often blest. With organ and piano, chimes, its music fills the best of times. The music of the church, it stops the need to search. Blest Christmas has its sound. The music's peace abounds. This Christmas music fills with joy the heart of ev'ry girl and boy. Th'affinity is not for all. This Christmas music love, its call. So give them needed place to show them honored grace. Each Christmas in July we smile. A moment's cool, that's not apace can break the heat a little while to make a restful, grace-filled space. by Jay O’Toole on July 17th, 2023 |
Hello, Out There! I'm glad you came, to read the words I write, I hope they are not yet the same, as others in your sight. I often write in verse, that's true, to spark the mind to thought, But sometimes prose is right to do, when something must be taught. That poetry is oft a maze, I stand amazed at view, But prose in words that are ablaze, will quickly share with you. by Jay O'Toole on July 14, 2016 ---------------------------------------------------------- Hello, Out There! These seven years have brought me joy to write. I hope my poems fall on ears, that learn of God's blest Light. I'm not averse to writing verse, since that Friday, the fourteenth, we've come around, again, no worse to Friday, the fourteenth. My poems are a daily thing. My prose two months a year to help your eyes begin to sing, and minds to think so clear. Now, when I write a shoehorned thought, it sounds a little odd. My honesty, right now, I hope may help you to applaud. My friendships here on WDC are better than the best of social websites, that I see, which put me to the test. I write to honor Christ, the Lord, but truly I do know, that He has blest me by His Word. He's making me to grow. Hello, Out There! I'm glad you came, to read the words I write, If they are better, yet the same, then I am writing right. by Jay O’Toole on July 14th, 2023 |
| Friends are faithful without ending. The friend is true. The rest are not. Our hopes are gifts we give and keep. Destination's life together. The friend is true. The rest are not. A cherished walk brings Friend along. The heart speaks plain in friendship's space. The dark is lighter with a friend. Our hopes are gifts we give and keep. The heartfelt hope is friendship's joy. We speak this meaningful aside to just one soul, our cherished friend. Destination's life together with each other in good or bad. Days for shining, nights for resting, the friend is here and we are blest. by Jay O’Toole on July 13th, 2023 |
The Sovereign of the universe doth call by His Own Choice the ones, whose lives he will reverse to give an honored voice. I cannot save myself from sin. I am not right with God by doing what alone I win, the one all would applaud. By trusting God I'm given rest, His Wonders start to learn. Within His Arms, I'm fully blest. The Same will never turn. O, Sovereign Lord, I thank You so for saving one so wrong. Your Truth each day please help me know to build in me Your Song. by Jay O’Toole on July 12th, 2023 |
The challenges of life are marked by things we truly are. Youth's strength we knew, it often sparked our deeds to take us far. But age enjoins our work be paced, now slower tasks complete, the youth PRs have been effaced, but wisdom's quite replete. So many minds, so many thoughts, so where can we agree? So few've the Standard I was taught. No eye-to-eye we see. The Earth is heavy with great souls, and history, now past. O, can our future be made whole, that life on Earth may last? We weep at things we once thought plain, but now great doubts arise. Can hope we knew now live, again? Can Joy renew our tries? The challenges of life we know are based on human skill. Through challenges, we often grow to know the Blest Lord's Will. The challenges we would escape are making us to be the very wine of broken grapes poured out in front of He. The challenges our crowns do make, that one Day when we're Home, we'll throw before Him, now awake. His Glory Ever's tome. by Jay O’Toole on July 11th, 2023 |
To start a scarf I cast each stitch, then back and forth it goes. To make some space, I carve a niche. My crafting pattern shows. A 19-needle, big and large makes chunky scarves so warm. What could I ever think to charge for a cold day's wondrous form? Some day when done I'll bless this gift to someone with a need, and be the cheery face to lift another life, indeed. by Jay O’Toole on July 10th, 2023 |
Knitting rows and rows of threads creates the scarves we make. Knitting hearts as we are led, His Kingdom's prizes take. Salvation bought by blest blood poured. His Church He knits of hearts. The Savior is the always Lord. New life to us imparts. The Father calls and knits His own. He makes of us His Will. For none can come by will alone, but drawn by God so filled. (John 6:44, KJV) All the Father gives to Him are knitted heart-to-heart, and he, that comes as saving's gem Christ never says, "Depart!" (John 6:37, KJV) Keep knitting gifts by worthy hands, and pray Salvation comes to those we love in family bands, each person, and the sums. by Jay O’Toole on July 7th, 2023 |
| Lots of lights fill celebrations of the longest, shortest days. Christmas Day, Independence Day, celebrate the lights of each. Plug it in. Spark it with your flame. Lighten faces with these lights. Joyful nights of eating, seeing with hopeful hearts so blest by saving Grace. by Jay O’Toole on July 6th, 2023 |
Hope. It comes upon the wind when Life is blowing hard, the harmful things to truly mend in words of an aging bard. Hope. It comes in muddy pants a-trudging through the vale. It breathes the air, that God still grants, a victory it's tale. Hope. It comes through one more day, while crying in our hands. The words of God do plainly say, "The best is in My Plans." (John 14:6, KJV) Hope. It comes though I am small. I make a mess of things. 'Tis then I hear the Savior call, "Your life to me, please bring." (Matthew 11:28, KJV) Hope. It comes in Christ, the Lord. The worst of Earth is short. Just lean upon His Lasting Word. He gives a blest report. (John 3:16; John 6:37,44; Romans 10:9-10,13, KJV) (Ezekiel 36:26-27,KJV) by Jay O’Toole on July 5th, 2023 |
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