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Rated: E · Book · Personal · #2172808
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)

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March 26, 2024 at 8:03pm
March 26, 2024 at 8:03pm
#1066989
Life is full of wondrous sounds.
The birds above in boughs they sing.
Christ, The Maker's Grace abounds.
They sit to chirp or take to wing.

Softly drops the rain this night
to water peace within each heart.
Pitter pat in hope that's light
with rest it gives from evening's start.

Hymns are blest in ev'ry form.
The instrumental "white noise" paints
quiet evening, no alarm,
gentleness for Blood-washed saints.
(John 3:16; John 6:37,44; John14:6)

Cars, that travel on this road,
they bring their drivers home to dine.
Bless-ed peace in one's abode.
An evening there with rest so fine.

Trumpet Call for those, who wait.
The Wedding Feast in robes of white.
Season seen, but not the date.
To live with Him there's no more night.


by Jay O’Toole
on March 26th, 2024


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2023 Quill Finalist{/center}
March 25, 2024 at 6:29pm
March 25, 2024 at 6:29pm
#1066923
strong cuppa hot brew
drink it well, today and e'er
rest for evenings' joy


by Jay O’Toole
on March 25th, 2024


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2023 Quill Finalist
March 22, 2024 at 6:24pm
March 22, 2024 at 6:24pm
#1066736
The dark of rain, it shrouds the day
with moisture coming from the sky.
The sun is hiding, naught to say,
and Earth can't see it, nor reply.

The dark of rain might stay awhile
to cause some wetness to my job.
I need to be strong and wear a smile,
not letting darkness hope to rob.

The dark of rain helps growth to spring
the flowers on their newfound way.
With pollen washed I now can sing
as darkness soon becomes light grey.

The dark of rain is not fore'er.
The sunny days return quite soon.
The challenges have no more care
than God permits for our best boon.


by Jay O’Toole
on March 22nd, 2024


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2023 Quill Nominee
March 21, 2024 at 10:15pm
March 21, 2024 at 10:15pm
#1066701
I was twelve when I first came
to Roulhac Middle School,
but some years later it became
abandoned, sadly cruel.
Chipley High did fully live
for years when I was grad,
but now the name, "Historic" gives
a face that's truly sad.
TTU in Choo-Choo Town
was where I met my wife,
but now no classes can be found
where we had started life.

It seems a terrible, bad joke,
that where I went to school
would be just empty buildings cloaked
by history's overrule,
but knowledge, I have gained each place,
and love doth wondrous grow.
The memories rest in sweetest grace
as lives back then we'd sow.


by Jay O’Toole
on March 21st, 2024


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2023 Quill Nominee
March 20, 2024 at 4:09pm
March 20, 2024 at 4:09pm
#1066632
1974:

My heart is like a rocket.
-------When her name is mentioned,
My heart leaps to the sky;
-------but when I think of reality,
My heart loses its exuberance.
-------It falls to the ground, and
My heart shatters into infinite pieces.
-------I try with all my might to mend it; but
My heart is hopeless,
-------so I gather the pieces, and put
My heart into my pocket.

-----------------------------------------------------------

2024:

My heart was such a fickle thing
when youthful way back then.
It shot itself up to the moon
for love, it could not win.

My heart, depressed, it stalled and fell.
It shattered on the ground,
not knowing, that the Plan of God
would lift me and abound.

My heart tried with my earthly might
to mend me and renew.
The pieces were so small and trite,
not knowing what to do.

My heart was hopeless as a youth.
The pieces there were laid.
Just placing them in pocket's truth
was not made new. So stayed.

My heart is older. Now, it knows,
that sometimes pain's a gift
for in the wind, a tree most grows,
airplanes know greatest lift.


by Jay O’Toole
on March 20th, 2024


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2023 Quill Nominee
March 19, 2024 at 6:03pm
March 19, 2024 at 6:03pm
#1066579
cold days now are two
soon the heat will come and stay
enjoy the respite


by Jay O’Toole
on March 19th, 2024


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2023 Quill Nominee
March 18, 2024 at 5:49pm
March 18, 2024 at 5:49pm
#1066518
Swimming trees through cloudy blue
lift hearts through mid-aft chilly breeze.
Season's day is always new
as life is lived by its degrees.

Cat stands near the master's chair,
rubbing leg, while scanning yard.
Gaining strength, relieving care
to honor his near sitting bard.

Elm tree sways in rustling wind,
revealing gaping holes in boughs.
Light green leaves their message send
"We hang on 'mid the tests to vows."

Earth is never still at all.
It spins and hurtles through the dark.
Days of life still shout God's call
to find our safety in His Ark.

Dead the pine still towers o'er
its place within the grove of trees.
Curious how many more
will be the days this regal sees.

Small dianthus blooms amass,
so strong enduring temps extremes.
Cold the winter's recent past,
so hot the summer's months it seems.

Squirrel skitters on the fence,
but "on the fence" he's not 'bout much.
"Place is mine!" He will not mince.
Intruders quick he them will touch.

In God's Hands all still is good.
Each day is ordered by His Word.
Man's attempts won't change His mood.
Forever He is Holy Lord.


by Jay O’Toole
on March 18th, 2024


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2023 Quill Nominee
March 15, 2024 at 11:11pm
March 15, 2024 at 11:11pm
#1066335
Faded roses on the shelf,
once so red the bunch.
Days of life ago were new.
Now, just time for lunch.

Faded roses once were goals,
thoughts so full and free.
Now, they're gone, without much left,
but hoped Eternity.

Faded roses, like the grace
youthful life can give.
Old, the days we can't restore.
Step and breathe to live.

Faded roses in the snow
of a winter's day.
Some things gone we can't get back.
Spring doth next obey.

Faded roses fertilize
gardens we will see.
Tears' regret will water in
Hope for you and me.

Faded roses mark the past.
Days we lived in joy.
Treasuring only what we've done
won't new life employ.

Faded roses, moments' tears,
good enjoyed by all.
Future days to live for God.
Read His daily call.


by Jay O’Toole
on March 15th, 2024


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2023 Quill Nominee
March 14, 2024 at 7:00pm
March 14, 2024 at 7:00pm
#1066279
In living life, we've many sunny days.
Sundays.

Avoiding strife, we've many things to do.
Tada! (Open hands wide.)

Pursuing Joy, the best of Life is free.
So free.

With Smile's employ, we lived the better chunk.
We thunk. *Wink*

Through final days, the backward looks amaze.
A maze.

The good we praise. The bad we need let go.
Ya know?

Through bluest sky, we wait The Lord's Return.
Discern.

This world "Goodbye," we'll live forevermore.
E'ermore.


by Jay O’Toole
on March 14th, 2024


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2023 Quill Nominee
March 13, 2024 at 6:18pm
March 13, 2024 at 6:18pm
#1066227
brighter light exists
gentle, quiet in this place
hoped for days to come


by Jay O’Toole
on March 13th, 2024


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2023 Quill Nominee

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