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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)    |
| "Obey the Lord," my only choice. The daily way is from His Voice. The world may bid me to them come with baubles, and great songs aplomb. In Christ, Alone, my days rejoice. "Obey the Lord," my only choice. My Self may bid me, "Save our heart. You've served the Lord right from the start." How can I turn, reject this One, the Saving Lord, God's Only Son? "Obey the Lord," my only choice to drown out ev'ry other voice. These days of life begin That Day. No other Truth is left to say to cause the saints to e'er rejoice. "Obey the Lord," my only choice. by Jay O’Toole on March 9th, 2023  |
He sits a-pace to help me think, a-listening as I go. He gives a cup to help me drink, and write the things I know. He sits with me when words come slow, and dances when they're fast. Consistently, he helps me grow with changes, that do last. This poetry's consistent blocks will help me build the house, that smiling face, its joy unlocks, lifts hearts, and new hopes arouse. by Jay O’Toole on March 8th, 2023 |
Sometimes the help we try to give seems little in our eyes. Sometimes the ways we wish to live may often miss the prize. Sometimes the help we think is good is waved off as not much. Sometimes the hopes, that live in "could," can't reach a hand to touch. Sometimes the help, that we think best just sits the bench, and cries, until transformed through God's Own Test, which calls the self to die. Sometimes we wave through myriad days, "Pick my help. I would serve," while naught is changed of thoughts, nor ways as waiting's "not deserved." But the opportunity comes, we think, "This cannot be. I'm made for greatness, sums, and drums, but this help none will see." There is no small help in God's Eyes. He sees the kindest grace. He sees the shadowed gift as Skies for none can take our place. He parks us in some place, unknown to help some unseen cause, that when we stand before His Throne, He will be our best applause. by Jay O’Toole on March 7th, 2023 |
Sometimes Time's a waiting game. The path is murky, dark. The hope we seek is truly the same as our rest days in the park. Maturity is what we need, but Oh, how long that takes! All self-needs are our greatest greed, 'til Wisdom stomps the brakes. Why is the goal of being whole a lifetime, uphill climb? Why are our frailties, fuel, and coal, that drive us in our prime? While waiting on Life's crowded bench, I find a place to rest. Our thirst is what we first must quench by He, Who bore each test. He waited 'bout 4000 years to crush the serpent's head. He rose and waited through our fears as Victor from the dead. He's waited two millennia to come to claim His Bride, that when the years are many, full, we'll live right by His Side. The years of waiting seem so large 'cause our perspective's small, but look to Him, Who bore our charge, and list for His near Call. by Jay O’Toole on March 6th, 2023 |
My dog is such a faithful friend. She sits with me. I write. Her peaceful gaze can often mend the pains of schedules tight. My faithful dog wants to be near me as I live my days. She has no self needs, nor a fear, that keeps her from our ways. My faithful dog, a gift from God to help me when alone. I think of her, and oft applaud the ways our lives have grown. by Jay O’Toole on March 3rd, 2023  |
seeds to fertilize yellow dust to coat the world breathing optional by Jay O’Toole on March 2nd, 2023 |
Success in life has many veins, the things we've done, and ones we've known. The hopeful heart has much to gain from blessed friendships we have grown. Piano playing is a gift, once giv'n by God, and trained by Man. The saddest days are often lift by wondrous tones of His great plan. And still the gifted teachers live through ev'ry song I've joy to play. The fellowship is here to give me hope, through all that's called "today." My tuba strengthed the early years through marching, concerts played my part as courage overcame my fears, conductor's downbeat caused us start. The hometown stage made me so bold to act, and sing, and dance a lot, that when the story fin'lly told, I bow on my own numbered spot. The things I've done, and those I've known still bless me to this very day. The gifts I use, and skills I hone bring smiles when all we fin'lly say. by Jay O’Toole on March 1st, 2023 |
| Pansy toughness survives, thriving through cold and warm, giving hope to human viewers. Sweet smile. by Jay O’Toole on February 28th, 2023 |
Back to work, and back to doing things, that need to be done. Back to starting, not just ruing the things we wish we'd won. Back to work, we may not like, until we find the way to find a job, and take a hike to what will make our day. Back to work, that pays our bills among our new, dear friends. Consistency may not be thrills, but doing our best oft mends. by Jay O’Toole on February 27th, 2023 |
| waves all ebb and flow seas of fish move back and forth gentle parity by Jay O’Toole on February 22nd, 2023 |
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