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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)    |
Snoopy, Charlie Brown's friend, full of life, things to do, hero for Jay O'Toole, stitching icon Joe Cool. by Jay O’Toole on September 29th, 2023 "Badger's Hexastich is a fun variation of the Crapsey Cinquain invented by our own Badger. (Member of Poetry Magnum Opus) It simply expands the cinquain to another line and 2 more syllables. The elements of the Badger's Hexastich are: a poem in 6 lines. syllabic, 2-4-6-6-4-2. unrhymed, optional rising and falling end-words." https://www.poetrymagnumopus.com/topic/621-crapsey-cinquain-and-some-of-its-vari...   |
Some days the weight of life is laid upon our weary shoulders pressed. "Is there no help?" each voice dismayed cries out to God in chords most stressed. Can we yet walk another mile, when restful moments are so few? A determined heart brings a struggling smile, that most can't guess without a clue. Eternity will bring us peace, if in The Lord we are made whole, but while we're here can full release be Christians' hope and daily goal? They ate the fruit, first parents' deed, and we are born to daily die. So, peace in pain is our best need, and to be heard when oft we cry. "Dear Lord, is pain Your punishment for sins I've done, and those before? Or is there more in Curtain's rent than daily toil we have in store?" "Dear child, this mind be in you, now. For Jesus Christ hath suffered, died, exalted whole, at His Feet bow. All tongues confess, 'His Glory abides.'" (Philippians 2:5-11, KJV) "For our light afflictions, moment's woes. Today a grace, tomorrow's best. It works for us. It glory knows" to make us smile e'en at the test. (II Corinthians 4:17, KJV) by Jay O’Toole on September 28th, 2023 |
Verses: The Sovereign Lord, He cares for thee throughout the days of hardship known. Salvation's Plan for you, for me hath caused Him on the cross to groan. The Sovereign Lord was e'ermore raised. He paid the price and sealed the deal. All everlasting, wondrous praise is from our mouths in this joy we feel. The Sovereign Lord, Who cares for thee is given all The Father calls. "The Gift of Grace is truly free," we'll sing throughout the Mansion's halls. Chorus: The Sovereign Lord cares for His own. He casts away not one, who comes. Salvation purchased, message sown, a son of God in Christ becomes. by Jay O’Toole on September 27th, 2023 |
canopy sways low night falls heavy hiding leaves darkness shackles work by Jay O’Toole on September 26th, 2023 |
The hymns and messages of youth have laid the foundation for my day. The Gospel Gift and lasting Truth are more than words my mind can say. We're alien from One Holy God in need of help we can't procure. Salvation from His Judgment Rod in Jesus Christ we're made secure. "The way, the Truth, the Life," He said. He's Jesus Only, Who redeems. Once crucified, He rose from the dead to give new life that ever gleams. "Ye must be born, again," He spoke, which means ye've not aught self to save. Thy Goodness bank account is broke to keep from Hell beyond the grave. To be reborn from God Above is like this of your earthly birth. You cannot make Him for you move, but watch the spiritual obstetrics worth. "Please, save me, Lord," we may yet ask, but cannot do one whit of this. The spiritual birth is all His task, but when He saves 'tis naught amiss. The first birth I could not achieve. The second is His loving Gift. Salvation Ever's full reprieve believer's heart to ever lift. by Jay O’Toole on September 25th, 2023 |
Birthdays three we share this night, and love each one, who were so born. Future's hope we see it bright, and pathways road, that will be worn. In Wisdom, they the world address, "Take note of all our new-claimed days. Our names you will now honor, bless, if wise you are as Wisdom says." The writer now in absence sad must work his shift, no party share, his heart is there with all ye glad to give his gift, and lift your care. Dear Abby, 17, near grown, whose smiling face doth chase the night. The childhood years near quickly flown, but now the world hath more of right. Great Mark, the stalwart man of means. His wealth, his family, his trade, at 19, time he now redeems with brother's training has it made. Sweet Shanna, no more teen she is, at twenty, something on the stage. The Master, talents to her gives, her aromatic thoughts are sage. Dear friends, so blest, ye are the three, so honored am I to be known by those of greatness, and to see what God hath planned in lives blest sown. Salvation's God is Jesus Christ. Each day embrace Him as the best. He paid for Sin at the perfect Price. He carries you through every test. by Jay O’Toole on September 22nd, 2023 |
golden blooms increase green space in the world of man work of God remains by Jay O’Toole on September 21st, 2023 |
| What do we do when they're just gone? Where can we look when there's no trace? How can we live without a dawn? How can we love no hugs to place? The little hamlet, Fairly Same, ensconced within a country vale. Its country goes by down-face name of Nevermore, so bored and pale. A hundred folks, quite blissful knit. They went to bed one autumn night, but in the morning peace was bit by cries, and wails, and deepest fright. "Where have they gone? Where can we look?" "How many now remain of us?" "I found his clothes in bedtime nook." "Her dolly keeps her mitten, thus." "Now all our children and one man have vanished in the air this day." "How could he silent keep his plan?" "How could his neighbors most betray?" No gift of Goodbyes for this town, no hope for breaking hearts to mend. They trudged their work. Each wore a frown with naught but clothes, effects to tend. How could they pray for none knew God, except the ones, who were not now? The preacher, whom they once had awed sure took their young in ghostly scow. by Jay O’Toole on September 20th, 2023 |
| Of music in the verse I write, I find a way to bob and weave. Of wisdom's course with all my might, I find the goal I would achieve. I find a way to bob and weave. Words stayed, a pungence overworn, I find the goal I would achieve. Without which, I must then adjourn. Words stayed, a pungence overworn these are removed. Enhance the mood. Without which, I must then adjourn, a poet then not often viewed. These are removed. Enhance the mood, improving life with wonders rare. A poet then not often viewed becomes a voice, that readers care. Improving life with wonders rare of wisdom's course with all my might. Becomes a voice, that readers care of music in the verse I write. by Jay O’Toole on September 19th, 2023 |
| Some days it seems a long way off to find a book, that has new thoughts. Will others like it? Hat to doff? Or need I shine with higher watts? A novelist has quite a gift to tell a story, bring along the reader's longing heart to lift, succeeding when they end in song. Some days I wonder, if that's me, the novelist, who stands so tall. Is there another tale to see? Is storytelling mine at all? When NaNoPrep starts in two weeks, I'll need to find a title rare. What story now will my mind seek? What plotline makes the reader care? A mystery? Or tale of woe? Adventure, seeking awesome gain? A friendship, that I need to know? Or loss of hope, that's searing plain? Whatever starts the book along will be the catalyst to grow. Will there be victory and song? Will someone's pain now overflow? The novel can be from the heart, some subject lived through the writer's days. Yet, trouble is a ready part of every life in all our ways. What makes me pick up each new book, and keep it in my hands all through? A title causing me to look? An admonition, that I do? Why do I want to write at all? Why do I plan and craft my words? Is there a story yet too tall? Can Hope still fly among the birds? What novel thoughts these books now bring! We write, and hope, and grow anew. At satisfying ends, we sing. At tragedy, we weep 'til through. by Jay O’Toole on September 18th, 2023 |
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