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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)    |
| Snowy scenes, that are no more, Christmas morning's cozy quilt, looking out the plateglass window, feeling anticipation, joyous peace. Piles of papers, forlorn boxes, bereft, unwanted. Gifts, no more a mystery, played with, bored with, sloppy tears of "It's all done!" Family piles into the station wagon, disk sled at the ready. Can joy be restored? Flying down the whitewashed hill, landing on the pavement hard. Mom's terrified face as I miraculously come to a stop without sliding under some car. "Time to go!" She's done. Why is Christmas always such a build-up and let-down? Santa isn't real? AUGH! For years I've wanted to recapture the joys of childlike Christmas before it was a hoax. Music of the season brings memories of what was. Twinkle lights, glimpses of what was. Georgia pralines, eggnog, cinnamon, oranges, pine, all the joys and sadnesses of what can never be, again. Mom's not here. Dad isn't, either. Dad decorated so well for Christmas every year. Mom cooked amazing meals and snacks. I'm alone in the world with people, some my age, most are younger. I miss my forebears so badly at times. Oh, for a day of no responsibilities when the "big people" take care of me, again. I want to see and be with them, but I'm not a quitter. So much yet to do. The Lord is yet to call, "All aboard!" His Heavenly Train. Snowy scenes, joyful arms. Eternity lies before. Christmas wonders evermore, looking in His Face, feeling anticipation, joyous peace. Piles of deeds, days now gone, but life is never undone. Judgement Seat examines life. The worthless deeds are ashes on the floor. Deeds done for Christ, purified to precious stones, gold, and silver. sloppy tears of "I'm finally Here!" Homesick for a Place I've never been. Longing for a childhood, that can't grow up. Searching for a Self I can't quite find. Mystified by doubts, wondering if assurance is even possible. Honesty, thy name is "Too Old to Care!" Where can I find the good, that remains from youth? Does that little boy still live, "resting 'neath the sheltering wings?" Will the joys of my childhood be restored with the Ancient of Days, Who is ever young? "Dear Lord, make me ever hopeful in this life. Make my eyes to see clearly The Blessed Hope of the Everlasting Day. Always Your Word. Amen." by Jay O’Toole on November 7th, 2024   |
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