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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)    |
Like a child, I jumped and trusted two big out-stretched arms. My head could not be bruised or busted, a mind without alarms. The ride to church so full of peace, my days played full of fun. My tongue smiled, dancing o'er each piece of morsels, ev'ry one. The trusted mommy clothed me well, and tucked me in at night. The big, strong daddy's fragrant smell assured me, "All is right." I learned to sing, that "Jesus Loves Me", saves me from all sin, He died and rose in love to make free the child He came to win. The lessons of eternal Hell were fright'ning. There's no doubt, but Jesus spoke the fear to quell through the straight and narrow route. A young boy's mind could simplify eternal lasting truth. Heaven's good, but Hell would fry the aged or the youth. Just look to Jesus by the tomb, alive and smiling free. I let Him live in my heart's room. His Kingdom I now see. (Matthew 18:3) by Jay O'Toole on February 28th, 2019 |
It's from the heart I see how close we live each loving day. I hear each beat of body prose. What nearness we obey! The smell of perfume near the ear. The taste of honey lips. Our arms enclose our warmest cheer. This moment never slips. Our eyes are locked in a link secure as Time just melts away. The taste of Earl Grey tea so pure is pale in Love's display. The sound of breath's slow rhythmic beat lifts softest hairs aloft. The salty skin is awfully sweet as the scent of hair does waft. The song of Love is clearly seen, enraptured as we are. The hope of days with my life's queen will lift me past a star. by Jay O'Toole on February 27th, 2019 |
the night is so still gentle breezes take the breath growing plants just wait by Jay O'Toole on February 26th, 2019 |
orange-chested birds flying, talking, presence known waiting for the bus by Jay O'Toole on February 25th, 2019 |
It's been two years this very day, since she did breathe her last. No more the child can laugh and play with one of dearest past. But in the Book of lasting Hope, I read of Day to come, with peace and rest beyond all scope, and Joy the living sum. My days now lived in a tapestry of loss and happiness. I grieve of loves no more to be, until in lasting Bliss. In me, the world can see my folks. I laugh and sneeze like Dad. I love the Christmas season most, like best Mom I have had. I love you, Mom! I want you near, but I'll be living as I can to honor folks I hold so dear, according to God's loving Plan. "So, 'bye, Mom, 'til we meet again. I love you in my heart. "Your absence like a lasting rain still waters music's start." by Jay O'Toole on February 24th, 2019 |
droplets form on leaves cold or heat intensifies shelter the weakest by Jay O'Toole on February 23rd, 2019 |
In the wand'ring of hours, calm night my thoughts all rest for awhile and wait. The singing rhyme and the prose relate in wonders shown threaded craft so late. While the writer doth bake delight. Through the richest of hours, calm night will stand alone 'til I stand there, too. What friendship lives when our words are through, As both love each there is naught to do. Loving writers will wait, delight. While they last all these hours, calm night oft beckons souls, “Whisper words o’er quilt of wordless times and the joy we've built. Our blended hearts of the gold-edged gilt.” Joyful writers are pure delight. by Jay O'Toole on February 22nd, 2019 |
How long the night of writing hath been wrought! The words are chased and crafted into thought. My heart makes merry with the clicking keys. Some hopeful concept breaks its bonds and frees. The study of great words can be as foes when grappling with the use of "thees" or "thous" those. Endorphins energize as laughter comes through minor quips or sentence in its sums. Let's make the party last 'til break of day enjoying words in beautious display. by Jay O'Toole on February 21st, 2019 |
red feathered beauty faithful to one spouse for life known for living truth by Jay O’Toole on February 20th, 2019 |
the clouds are crying thirsty plants and ground are glad fauna seek shelter by Jay O’Toole On February 19th, 2019 |
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