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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/777stan/day/4-3-2021
Rated: E · Book · Personal · #2172808
We live much of life amid unique choices. Joy is anchored in The One beyond our life.
"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

“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

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April 3, 2021 at 3:09am
April 3, 2021 at 3:09am
"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

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April 3, 2021 at 1:18am
April 3, 2021 at 1:18am
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

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