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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)    |
| Such gloomy skies for Christmas days, computer screen is greying, too. The blandness of the light displays awaits the dark to shine all through. The drizzle rain prevents the snow. The chill strokes ev'ry aging bone. The sadness comes, while wearies throw the hope, that we have lately known. How do we chase the days of yore? As one long walk to gain some Joe? Tall Macchiato we implore to lighten the gloom with the taste we full know. The Doc we read to Seuss pursue. Nonsense the world for manya line. The decorphlagans now dance it for you. The lightlings they swing in merriment so fine. The snozwhittles blast it in colorful minds. Each gooseberry's strewn on eatfully ground. Swing open the new lighting, once-boring blinds as dancing on ceilings of imaginations found. How goodly we laugh at the stupids we launch! Now, patting the chest of once-gloomy heart, releasing the grey from our faces so staunch to joyfully throw all ourselves to the start. Gloom-fuzzies wilt as the thoughtlornlies fade. Daygreyness brightens in hopefulies grown. Tonguematters lighter in sweetlies obeyed. This day, now JOY, returns to the Throne. by Jay O’Toole on December 5th, 2025    |
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