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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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"Failures, repeated failures, are finger posts on the road to achievement. One fails forward toward success." C. S. Lewis "I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else." C. S. Lewis “I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now... Come further up, come further in!” ― C.S. Lewis, The Last Battle https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/1059917-the-last-battle “The Road goes ever on and on Down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the Road has gone, And I must follow, if I can, Pursuing it with eager feet, Until it joins some larger way Where many paths and errands meet. And whither then? I cannot say” J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.” J.R.R. Tolkien    |
Begins with a cry. We grow through our play. Love finds a dear match. Working our best years. Days slow, but love grows. What will come next? How do I hope? Why do I doubt? Is there a guide? Just this Earth? Just these days? Dearest Love. Exists in God. Life. by Jay O’Toole on April 9th, 2021 |
Nights of waiting, will they end? Dad and Mom have left the Earth. Will I e'er them see? Friends and family need the new birth. Blest eternally? Nights of waiting, darksome time. Tears now shed in earthly clime. Searching rhythms and each rhyme. Promises remain. Nights of waiting, hours of rest. Holding on, forever blest. Striving toward horizon's crest. Planting Hope as grain. Waiting in the soul's dark night. Forever near to touch. Faith is spirit's lasting sight. Worthy it, so much. by Jay O’Toole on April 8th, 2021 |
Athena came to live with us just five short years ago. This morning we in painful trust returned her to God, Who knows. She must have eaten something bad her tummy, it couldn't digest. For the hunter, she was, 'tis really sad. Our faces know fallen crests. A day ago our strongest cat, but now our parted friend. Each heart must process all of that as we now start to mend. by Jay O’Toole on April 7th, 2021 |
Quiet minutes. Fan blades dance. Night like blanket lies. Twinkle lights call, "More than a glance." Days of Time fly by. A stare into space. A brick wall at my back. The day seems bright and clear, Beyond it is clouds, a deck of cards stacked. What of the past held dear? Night still leaning by the wall. Light emits from bulbs. Cat curled up as sleep may call, darkness to the curb. "Silence seems confusing, Lord. Seems like You're not there. On the wall with bricks for words, I'm left to blankly stare. "Faith must trust when no one speaks. Faith is risky stuff. Others question what I seek, but You're still enough." by Jay O’Toole on April 6th, 2021 |
| Giving others hopeful hearts is our blessed task. Every day a new day starts. God’s the One we ask. |
"Hosanna!" shouts the angel band. "His Robe has been restored. He lives in fullness by His Plan, He's Spirit, Soul, Body, LORD." Two angels in His musty grave announced, that He was gone. No Body left as sin's sad slave. No clouds upon this Dawn. The Gardener with Face now wry brings comfort to Mary's heart. "Are you looking for someone? Why do you cry?" His Joy, it bursts to start. "If you've taken Him somewhere, please let me know." Her heart breaks with love and respect. Just "Mary," He says. Her face in a glow, "Rabboni!" She'd never expect. Her mind in a spin. Her heart in a flutter. Her tongue knew not words, yet to speak. She wanted Him all. She was melting like butter. She fell and she grabbed for His feet. "Don't hang onto me, now. I have much left to do, but I'll be in your heart soon enough. Let me go to my Father in service of you. The Holy Spirit will show you our Love. "Now, go to the men, He's entrusted to me, and tell them, that I go before to meet them, again, in fair Galilee, then I'll ascend to my Father, for sure." She scampered, and trotted, and stumbled, no doubt, and quick as she could, found them glum. "The Lord is alive! I've seen Him about, and I know, you really should come!" "Now, go on your way, and get you some sleep. Delirious is what you now are! We've sadness to do. Psssst! Not one more peep. Come back when quite solemn you are." They were "Really?" of face. Peter thought it was meet, and then moved toward the grave, just to look. John then ran on ahead. He was fleet of his feet. He saw nothing. He thought, "They're mistook." In the days, that ensued, Jesus met with His friends, and the men He had taught these three years. On the way to Emmaus, He shared from the Truth, and showed them God's Word is so clear. The frightened ones huddled in one upper room were greatly in need of His touch. So, He walked through their wall as He did through the tomb. The Joy of their hearts was so much. "I know you're convinced what you saw was the Lord, but until I see side, hands, and feet, I'll just think you're quite daffed, and I'm growing bored, but your storytelling's really so neat." "So where is that little one, I need to see, who wants to know, if I am here?" Is roaring enough to validate me? Or would touching my wounds make it clear? "How blest you are now to see and believe, but more are they blest, who do not. In the future your words, they will see and receive what I've done to remove every spot. "For these other sheep are not of this fold, but they'll come, and then one we will be. The Good Shepherd am I. Sheep are knowing, not told for their hearts are translated and free. (John 10:14, 16, KJV) "So, Dear Reader, you see I have something for you, a Gift none of Earth can e'er buy, but if you will now take it, there's Life when I'm through, and we'll live in the Sweet By & By." by Jay O’Toole on April 4th, 2021 |
Perfume He spread where'er He went, and now in oil, He lay, perfuming out the death-stench bent of the grave, which must obey. The crickets still. The birds don't sing. The Earth this Sabbath weeps. The trees in shock host Whippoorwills, who stare, but do not sleep. The angels entrusted with His care are watching tenderly. Incredulous, they watch and stare. His bonds, they wish to free. His disciples rest but fidget sore. Now, hopeless, they've no peace. Three years they trusted, but no more. Their fears won't them release. This Sabbath there's a deathly still. Their workweek o'er, they wait. They pick at food, that tastes like swill. They finish not their plate. "We thought that He'd our Savior be. We thought our lives were new, but how can He now set us free when He Himself is through?" Can there be Hope when all seems lost? Can new days ever come? Will we know freedom past the cost? Is Jesus Victory's sum? by Jay O’Toole on April 3rd, 2021 |
That Friday was Good, though it looked bad when Jesus bore our sin. His Face was bloodied. The crowd was mad. He did not seem to win. How could it be good when all we knew at sunset was a death? How could He be nailed, and then turn blue, The One, Who gave us breath? The jury had lied. The verdict false. The Innocent was blamed. The crowd, it condemned. The guilty waltzed with justice ne'er the same. Yet, He, Who knows the Story's End had turned His Back this once. The crying Savior would not mend before His final pulse. The thirty-six hours of the silent Savior were ripping Creation's seams. There was no Plan B, that aught could tender. His dearest dashed their dreams. Now mottled, and oiled, and Body wrapped, The Savior laid in state, but He Himself was never trapped. He kept each scheduled date. The sun, it peeked above the horizon upon that dark third morn. Did he dare to shine the light of reason, until the grave be torn? Nevermore to see the Savior living. Nevermore to hear His voice. Nevermore to Him embrace be giving. Nevermore to live in Hope's great choice. Good Friday was not good to them. Good Friday was quite bad. How could they ever live as men without their Lord so glad? by Jay O’Toole on April 2nd, 2021 |
warm days in a row frozen means plants can't survive get to shelter now by Jay O’Toole on April 1st, 2021 |
Funny faces dancing high, smiling out at me. Kitty cats and doggies lie above the mounts I see. Ocean-going vessels steam to regions far beyond. Schools of happy fishes team in a joyous, loving bond. Flowers sprout and dance in rows upon the golden dusk. Children slide upon the bows, while learning full to trust. Dinosaurs and elephants all lumber slowly by. Books of pages, thoughts they grant in readers' grassy lie. Speeding cars and motorboats make way throughout the blue. Sheepish lambs and bearded goats are baaing over you. Candy canes and cupcakes call to hungry passersby. Pizzas and big hotdogs fall the need to satisfy. Baseball bats make homers soar, and Jordan slams it home. Lazy days by canoe oar make thoughts and bodies roam. State the state you think you see. Capital idea. Country homes all shining free, hopefully to see ya. Art of hopes and sleepy dreams. Paint by hand or nod. Imagination has its themes, which viewers then applaud. Dozing off on pillows blest by He, Who made it all. Waking with the mind refreshed as pictures ever call. line count: 40 word count: 185 by Jay O’Toole on March 31st, 2021 |
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