We live much of life amid unique choices. Joy is anchored in The One beyond our life. |
“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) |
sturdy green it stands sweetest juice to satisfy bluest blue it shines by Jay O’Toole on May 11th, 2019 |
cooling breath in heat comfort for the weary day hope along the road by Jay O'Toole on May 10th, 2019 |
"Oh, Lord, I don't know how to live," moans the weary heart. "I get in trouble for the bad I do, "and amazingly, I get in trouble too often for my good intentions, that are thought of as being bad. "How do I live? How do I hope? Where are You, Lord?" "I'm right here, my Son. Just stop. Breathe. Live," The Savior gives His tenderest touch to the person, whose flame is nearly quenched. "You've given me so many talents. I feel responsible for every one of them. "Please, give me the strength to live and to serve You," the weary heart cries. "The craftsman wears His dearest gloves to make the greatest house. "I make the gloves and I wear the gloves I've made. I hold the tools so tightly. "I make the house with gloved hands and flying tools. "The gloves each rest. Each tool is skilled. All are built by my own strength," The Savior holds and guides his dearest child in love. "I'm taught to be responsible. I'm taught the perfect way to live. I'm weary of this teaching way. "My hope's a dusty breath," the weary child with weary heart collapses into a lump. "Lay down your burdens. Come as you are." The Savior comforts with His voice. "I save the ones, who slightly turn because they're frozen stiff in doubting's fear and confusion's maelstrom." "I don't know if I've believed properly," the frightened, weary heart bellows. "Perfection's not required. Just come as you are," the Lover tenderly smiles. "I don't know how! I don't want to be forever lost! I can't do it! I give up!" The hopeless heart is now prostrate. "You just did. You came as you were," the Father holds his child. "You needed forgiveness. That is now done. You needed lasting friendship. You have that in me, dear Son. "Your work is now known by my unfailing strength. You rest and you serve for you've come to me." Word Count: 326 Line Count: 23 Verse Used: Philippians 2:13 Prompt: The song, "Come as You Are" by David Crowder by Jay O'Toole on May 9th, 2019 |
Round and round we always go to the store and back. You're ahead and I'm behind, but we have no lack. Together we will always be like iron, we are wrought. To carry others is our plan. "Be selfless," we are taught. We give the gift of exercise when folks manipulate our wondrous tools each living day. They end up looking great! We hang around where'er we're placed as silent as the dew, and snap to service at your beck demanded just by you. So faithful we as lifelong hound with chain we are unchained released from lethargy at once. Each route must be maintained. Among our friends we wait and watch as mini statues rare. The master comes to each when done with shopping over there. Some spritely youth make us to spin throughout the land of France a race to win, and when it's done in joy, they all will dance. We hike up ev'ry mountain pass. We roll the other side. Each leafy mile of tweet's salute we smile at Greatest Guide. Lines: 32 by Jay O'Toole on May 8th, 2019 |
hostas green or gray strip-ed leaves of beauty rare in the shade they thrive by Jay O’Toole on May 7th, 2019 |
Golden shafts of light, whispered words of wind, rouge and verdant floral spires, still the respite. Home again. Lucent home for growing green, orange pebbles hold the sun, zest for life in lemon balm, home again with sweetness won. Blurry squirrels in motion's brown, shrill the regal mockingbird, bunny rabbit's twitching nose, home again in stolen word. Rainbow hues of growing heart blossoms from the grayest past. Quite nestled on the carpet green. Home again, sweet, ever last! Lines:16 Literal Descriptives by Jay O'Toole on May 6th, 2019 |
quiet breezes blow greenery and water ways nature, man share life by Jay O'Toole on May 5th, 2019 |
In the darkness peering, night has fallen thick as ash. Hope, in terror slips and falls, running bare. "Where is John Mark, my twin?" Glimmering light would be a gift. Could a glimmer of Hope remain along this unseen path? Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Grasping hands. Wages are grass. Fireflies tease my eyes. Walking the dog. Some business to attend. "Hear something, Girl? What's that smell?" Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Eyes adjust. Stars begin their lighted dance throughout the sky. Pulsating orbs mean something,... Anything. Whipporwills coo that "peace exists." Wisteria soothes the nose. Lights in the distance still insist, "Patient hope it grows." Dark of night or dark of heart or darkened relationships all tempt my Self to fear, but One exists beyond the dark, Whose love for me is clear. In the darkness peering, night has fallen thick as ash. See the Light beyond all fearing, "This, too, my Son, shall pass." by Jay O'Toole on May 3rd, 2019 |