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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)    |
| Hurricane fatigue, the third cup of my day, anticipate's intrigue, but after's full dismay. I'm tired all the time. I work, and then I rest, but still the limbs, and grime add into daily test. When will it all be o'er. When will the norm return, or should I change my core to newness I must learn? My coffee cup is waiting here. Fatigue must give in, and relent. Just sip the joe through many'a tear. Sit peaceful in a storied tent. The nighttime now's a moonlit, tree-filled place. My warmful joe and breezeless air abate internal conflict for the God-giv'n grace, restoring mind, soul, body 'fore too late. The sipping joy, insipid can ne'er be. The starry sky of beauteous lights I see. All hopeful thoughts returning now to me. Still weary, but to God for rest I flee. To slow down more the sickening, simpering, surly pace, let world a-pace fly right on by begone anon, whilst thee dost sit in corner's waiting, cheery grace as The One God's blest loving, living, hopeful son. by Jay O’Toole on October 16th, 2024   |
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