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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)    |
Silhouetted trees of lines mark the year's last day. Memory, it oft repines, not much left to say. When the last of this great year finds its blanket dark, we must stop and think most clear before the past doth park. Pinkish clouds, some dusty dark aloft float past my place. Election lifts each soul to ark by everlasting grace. The last light of this year retreats, and soon the Gentile's Time. "Repent. Believe," doth oft repeat The Bible's Word sublime. The "lower lights" must now stand fast, until the Rapture's Call. The trumpet of the Lord will blast, and then His Wrath must fall. The Day of Jacob's Trouble's near, great darkness at the blocks. The trumpet is the whistle clear. The runners race o'er rocks. The year of ease, the Day of Grace, of light, 'tis not much left. Come quickly, Savior, to this place or we shall be bereft. "Goodbye, Dear 2024, your gentleness is done. Next light, we'll see a new before, and rest in His Hope won." by Jay O’Toole on December 31st, 2024   |
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