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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    |
| Sitting in my room, so quiet once again. Almost like a tomb. Never can I win. "Why is Mommy so upset? Why is life so hard? Why am I a great regret to her crying heart?" Sitting in my room, waiting for a smile. "Why does darkness loom every once in a while?" But it's not today! "Jump in the car let's go!" Momma wants to shop and play! A better day to know! Sitting in my room, Momma spent too much. Parents always fume. Depression is my crutch. by Jay O’Toole on February 12th, 2024   |
| So many years ago the day, that meant so much to this child's heart was Friday when so much of play was outside with this day's head start. The best day of the week, I guess, was Friday afternoon and eve. "No school, tomorrow" did quite bless this two-day break of sweet reprieve. To stay up later, movie watch, and sleep in Saturday 'til 10:00 might know my mom's best butterscotch, and have some basketball to win. All day Sunday was in church. Morn and evening sang the hymns, opened Bibles, there to search for The Word of God had gems. Now, most Friday nights mean work, clean and do the shoppers good, keeping pace as QA clerk, do my best as always would. by Jay O’Toole on February 9th, 2024 |
| About round thoughts are bound. How to go? Roustabout dirty work, coffee perk, never shirk; Roundabout. by Jay O’Toole on February 8th, 2024 |
| The sun careens off bush and tree in its silent gift of light. This light blue sky, unmoved, is free to bottle rays in flight. What peace revealed upon each yard. What gentle fingers blow across each leaf not lifted hard by winds, that often throw. A metal "bird" doth rumble on. A car comes swishing by. My cats oft bask in the brightest sun, but called without reply. The sunlight lengthens toward its set. A neighbor softly sings. The workday starts too soon to get more peace the hour brings. But someday soon The Lord will come, and with Him peace for aye. Please, help me, Lord, to count the sum of Your blest gifts, today. by Jay O’Toole on February 7th, 2024 |
"For I delivered unto you first of all, that which I also received how that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures. "And that He was buried, and that He rose again the third day, according to the Scriptures." I've given this, a message true, the one, that once was given me. The Christ has died for me and you to pay our sins, from lostness free. According to The Scriptures writ, we know The Truth, it's written down. His death for sin. Yes, ev'ry whit was made before we'd wear the crown. He laid in the tomb, was buried low, and on the third day rose again. According to the Scriptures know, His Gift has covered all my sin. Perfection, ev'ry day he lived to substitute for my life, broke. My goodness still so lost, contrived. His Good, applied, saves common folk. For I delivered unto you the first of all things I received, that Christ died for our sins so true, that we now more would be deceived. According as The Scriptures state, "He died, was buried, rose again," upon the third day, blessed, great, according to The Scriptures' when. To memorize these wondrous verses, I must remember all their Truth, to be we saved from all our curses, Christ met the cross, while in His Youth. For I delivered unto you, that first of all which I received how Christ has died for every sin, according as The Scriptures read. And He was buried, so It says, and that He rose again the third. according as the Scriptures praise. It's written plainly in His Word. Commit The Word to faithful hearts, that when we're faced with trials sore return we will to where we start by clinging to our Christ adored. by Jay O’Toole on February 6th, 2024 |
The Greatest Gift I could receive, Salvation from God's Wrath, is given to me when I believe, and walk the narrow path. But none of this is work I do. It is not faith, that's seen. To trust someone to cook for you is never what this means. Our parents in their Garden home distrusted God, The Truth. The sinful fruit they ate to roam away from God from youth. No sinful soul can stand before The Lord of all that is. Just Christ's Perfection can restore the sonship, that is His. He lived the life, that I could not. He died, was buried, rose. He showed me, that my deeds are naught, but His deeds The Father chose. To have New Birth in Christ Alone, I'm brought to life by Him. His death for sins do now atone. I sing a lasting hymn. 'Tis not of me to ever live. It's all of Jesus Christ. My inability I give. He paid the awful price. by Jay O’Toole on February 2nd, 2024 |
second month is here these cold days lead Earth to spring hope has been restored by Jay O’Toole on February 1st, 2024 |
| The Bride awaits the trumpet call with lamp and extra oil. "The Bridegroom comes," alerting all to cease our make-work toil. If preparations are not met, and we're out making sure, the Groom will come as some do fret in a moment without cure. The oil and lamp cannot go out for those in garments white. They wait and serve His task about in grace with all their might. Great Wedding Feast has been prepared for those, who love His Face. In readiness with burdens pared, redeemed in lasting Grace. We do not know the day, nor hour, but the Trumpet Feast seems best to look for blessings He will shower, to snatch from one Long Test. by Jay O’Toole on January 31st, 2024 |
| What do I seek from Christmas Day? Is it the things I then may get? Is it the lights of bright display? Is it the hungry needs so met? The Best of Christmas Evermore is He, Who died upon the tree, The Light of Life to farthest shore, The Greatest Gift to you and me. This Babe, Who laid in manger low redeems each heart, that He has called. The greatest Christmas Joy to know His Resurrection no more palled. The Best of Christmas ever blest is knowing, that the Day won't end. The Joy is found in Arms to rest, and Saving Grace from Wrath to fend. The music of the Christmas hymns need never stop, nor lose their style. His Victory, it ever wins, and Hope is found in His Blest Smile. by Jay O’Toole on January 30th, 2024 |
| One month is gone with more to come, until He comes, again. Our hours, weeks, and months will sum these earthly days 'til then. The days we live, are they the best to count eternally? Will we be victors o'er each test in saving's Gift so free? One month is gone with ten to wait, until great Christmas time, but when behold the last great date, forever He's sublime. by Jay O’Toole on January 29th, 2024 |
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So beautifully written.
