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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    |
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 |
prickly limbs protect red berries give birds some food pruning leaves it bare by Jay O’Toole on April 3rd, 2024 |
Balloons they fill are oft quite large. I tie them up, knots three or four. Then fill the maker. It's my charge, and throw them in the box outdoors. Sometimes balleting through the store, I walk on water, while I clean. The spot unkempt it was before, but now in victory, I preen. Some rooms have need of rose perfume, while paper snow falls all around. My lemon mop is used to groom the flooring 'til more grace abounds. Great suction need the fibers laid as squatters hide within their weaves. Pristine, now, is the task obeyed. The boss, she hies me now to leave. by Jay O’Toole on April 2nd, 2024 |
funny things today say the truth or jest the lie plants are no one's fool by Jay O’Toole on April 1st, 2024 |
Waiting for the next blest thing to come, and show me how to serve. When The Lord will cause me sing, and give me place I don't deserve. Waiting for the next blest day to go with Him, forever safe. When The Lord will wondrous say, "I know you. You're no more a waif." Waiting for the next blest time to be at peace, no more distress. When The Lord in HIStory's prime will clean up ev'ry manmade mess. Waiting for the next blest sight to be known by the Son of God. When The Lord breaks earthbound plights. We'll ever praise Him, and applaud. by Jay O’Toole on March 29th, 2024 |
Food. Small bites change the mood, give new insights. A great place to be. Sitting down with some friends to eat the best meal's not free, but talk and food with Hope attends. by Jay O’Toole on March 28th, 2024 |
| Sometimes Life has parts now past, effectiveness, now gone, But the things, that always last will always linger on. The things, that are not needed much, we put out with the cows to eat the grass, and sometimes touch, and hear applause with bows. Days at home seem always right with days in town quite few. Youthful days with greater might seem pastured, now they're through. Pastures with their grassy hills complete a well-spent day. "Peace is loved more than great thrills." Well, that's what my thoughts say. by Jay O’Toole on March 27th, 2024 |
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So beautifully written.
