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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)    |
It seems a life well-lived may take a while, but when we turn around it seems so short. The pain of days may fill our souls with bile, but time in God becomes a lasting fort. The joy of friends, a daily gift until they've passed away to leave us all alone. If human or pet, it's all against our will. The pain we feel is like the love we've known. Familiar voice, or loving, knowing glance, the silent note, the visage no more seen begins to slow our hope, our strong advance, until we wade through gray, that seems so mean. Will days like this be filled with sun someday? Will nights so dark find Moon's so mellow crest? Will Hope be mine to jump, and dance, and play? Will better days remind me, that I'm blest? My faith is weak, Messiah is so strong. Can Heart be filled with hope in Him, most blest? His Word is sure. In Heaven, it's a song. Eternity can heal the greatest test. by Jay O’Toole on July 18th, 2022 |
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