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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 (Philippians 2:13, KJV) https://www.goodreads.com/author/quotes/2876959.Charles_Haddon_Spurgeon    |
| Deep in thought we sometimes are. We can't find the way. Good solutions are by far crowned beyond today. "Watch and wait" is what we're told. God is not ever rushed. Trust in Him is always bold, even when we're hushed. Why should we think there's some Truth when it's not yet plain? Shines the sun through life from youth, even in the rain? Waiting in my thoughts each day, wond'ring what is next. Something now to do or say? Or just be perplexed? Thinking through this moment's rest, hoping for what's good, God will answer when it's best. Eat your daily food. by Jay O’Toole on April 17th, 2024   |
To make some art with knitted threads, we need to bind toge'er the colors of the greens and reds in joy for Christmas there. Embroidery is smaller sewn to form the pics by lines. A decorative towel then is known, a gift so wondrous fine. Crocheting can a sweater make or a scrub cloth, coarse. Ev'ry movement, that we take must use the needed force. Eternity is more than Time. Our deeds will He inspect, but if Christ's Deed removes our grime, His Perfection will bedeck. by Jay O’Toole on April 16th, 2024 |
Coffee mug and crullers meet. Moments mind the rest. Loving food the daily treat. Ever hopeful blest. Waiting for the ever Home, living through each test. Nevermore to search, nor roam. Ever hopeful blest. Music soothes the anxious heart, looking for God's best. Days ordained are sure to start. Ever hopeful blest. Something holds me back it seems from His peaceful nest. "Fear, thou not, O chose, redeemed." Ever hopeful blest. Many are the waking hours. "See in Grace you're dressed. Now, the Groom prepares your bowers." Ever hopeful blest. by Jay O’Toole on April 15th, 2024 |
The Monday moon eclipsed the day. 'Twas really a moon day. The light was lesser on display than normal it's display. But is the show quite over, yet? The peaceful lull before the things, which may not make the bet of prophecy and lore. A shaking could take place quite soon. The winds could really blow. The ocean waves could more than croon. An avalanche of snow. But what of God's great Mercy, Grace? Will Wrath be Earth's next test? Will Mankind know its bitterest taste? Just pray you're rescued, blest. by Jay O’Toole on April 12th, 2024 |
Light retreats as darkness comes. Earth can rest 'neath blanket still. Cooler temps bring hope from heat. Birds and insects sing their songs. by Jay O’Toole on April 11th, 2024 |
To make a joke, and make it's good, is really quite a gift. To nourish others with this food I hope their hearts to lift. But how to make this humor speak to most, who read the joke is really not an easy seek, avoiding hurtful pokes. To make quite well a funny thing is challenging at best. The concepts must of humor sing to make all be so blest. by Jay O’Toole on April 10th, 2024 |
Nothing to eclipse this day, but He, Who made the day His Own. Nothing more is left to say, but bow we need before His Throne. Nothing of our human grace to move His Hand to save one soul. Nothing good to give us place to live for aye in His Blest Fold. Nothing more can one man speak to stay the penalty for sin. Cleanse me fully from the reek of human glory I might win. Nothing more needs frailty's rot than His full death and raising's pow'r. Not one sin is not forgot by The Risen Lord in saving's hour. Nothing left to plea and cry when to The Saving Lord we look. Nothing left to do, nor buy when we rest in The Lord's Lone Book. Ever Grace in Christ Alone. Ever hope we in His Deed. Ever blest before His Throne. Ever Substitution's Creed. Nothing more is left to say. Final is his Lasting Word. Resting now in love obey. Jesus is The Loving Lord. by Jay O’Toole on April 9th, 2024 |
For it is growing dimmer, now. The sun is not so bright. Before the Lord, we need to bow, while we still have some light. The light is like late afternoon an hour 'fore the dark. The texture's dimmed, and fairly soon the hoped event will part. At seventy percent it's not the dark of later night, but pastel dark is what we got, before it returns to bright. I saw the full eclipse before by traveling farther north. Describing what I can't ignore is not brought easily forth. It's still quite bright, but not as much as when the moon's not there. The Master's Great Creative Touch requires we stop and stare. The textured partial eclipse means as least as much to me as nighttime in midday once seen for time will longer be. Two-minute total eclipse came, and went with not much else, but crescent moons in shadows' frame the total part to belt. This time the darkness wasn't all, but light was darker made. Before the night of darkness falls The Lord we must obey. by Jay O’Toole on April 8th, 2024 |
Sweetly breezing afternoon, the chill remains these nights, but the heat returns so soon to band for summer's plight. Christmas lights, now taken down, they hang upon the wall. Merriment in silent sound must wait for Season's call. Blue skies stand in still salute to guard the time before Moon's great march, quite resolute, brings darkness to the door. Calm remains, while Winter leaves to give away it's cold. Summer comes with heat it heaves in days so bright and bold. by Jay O’Toole on April 5th, 2024 |
Panies maintain grace. Poinsett'as live, thriving well. Dianthuses bloom. Hostas start to come alive. Ferns put on their fiddleheads. blest in wondrous growth resurrection life is seen greatest, greenest Thumb. by Jay O’Toole on April 4th, 2024 |
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So beautifully written.
