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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)    |
The sunset marks the end of light, but not the end of day. The glowing orb so wondrous bright is on such great display. These colors pour their final hues of gold and crimson shouts. When darkness blankets all their due, their mem'ries ever tout. All trees before this canvas sky become dark sticks unknown. The dance of reds in bliss defy all heights to which they've grown. Is there a day when once, again, all colors will be known, when gifts will newly, truly win, when talent flags are flown? Or will the night of misty sleep erase all daring do? Will blindness cause us timid creep? Will all of hope be through? Each living soul has just one day to shine, and paint, and write. When sunset beams its final ray, will my mark leave its might? The morning light of youth's convinced, "We'll shine forevermore," but when the day is fully minced, will "Victor" paint the door? Each faithful breath in painting stroke, each chosen word we write, each gift we give as lass or bloke will find its season bright. A sunset blazes, then its gone, except in God's Own Heart. Each goodness is His Vict'ry won, each hope His loving start. Let ev'ry sunset light be burned with nothing left to give. Let ev'ry sadness, fully turned b'Eternity to live. For never a beam, that shines in grace will ever wasted be. The Son of Glory in His Place He has a place for me. Verses: 11 Lines: 44 Theme: The sunset of life announces the Eternal Day. by Jay O’Toole on March 2nd, 2022 |
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