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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)    |
| Fearsome freezing's on the way. Enter '25. Keep us, Lord, throughout the day, and through the night alive. A polar vortex coming south, thus seeing Georgia snow? Too many days could shut each mouth. Another Helene to know? These birth pangs of the Lord's Return with weather run amuck may cause us to great wisdom learn as chin to chest, we tuck. Please, save our families, plants, and pets amid the fearsome cold. Salvation from our sinful debts, then Christ His Image mold. Fearsome freezing days come soon. What will be life beyond? Will we rebound a better boon? Will something loved be gone? Find safety, Reader, renew the warmth, protect the old and small, 'fore animal and aged harms are bid by polar calls. The temps may newly weary us. We need prepare right now, that when it comes as foot or bus we'll not in losing bow. by Jay O’Toole on December 30th, 2024   |
red the wondrous blooms stamen yellow stand to shine Christmas is its day by Jay O’Toole on December 27th, 2024 |
trees unmoved, front yard animals are still in back cold, the blanket, quilts by Jay O’Toole on December 26th, 2024 |
The celebrations are now done. It's Christmas in the evening. Togetherness in joy and fun, the day is quickly leaving. Tomorrow work begins, again, this Christmas in the evening. So much of life to do and tend with gifts no more receiving. The mellowness of tea to sip, it's Christmas in the evening. Emotions to their sad ones flip. The change I'm newly grieving. These hours more to write, reflect, 'fore wakefulness I'm leaving are quiet times to joy detect. My purpose I'm retrieving. Of story tales, of life's events, this Christmas in the evening, anticipation grows intense for childlike souls believing. So, when it's o'er, the past increase, on Christmas in the evening, we must reflect, and find release to sip our tea alleving. The greatest times throughout the years, this Christmas in the evening are at His Birth and Life Restored. Salvation, His bequeathing. by Jay O’Toole on December 25th, 2024 |
The celebrations are now done. It's Christmas in the evening. Togetherness in joy and fun, the day is quickly leaving. Tomorrow work begins, again, this Christmas in the evening. So much of life to do and tend with gifts no more receiving. The mellowness of tea to sip, it's Christmas in the evening. Emotions to their sad ones flip. The change I'm newly grieving. These hours more to write, reflect, 'fore wakefulness I'm leaving are quiet times to joy detect. My purpose I'm retrieving. Of story tales, of life's events, this Christmas in the evening, anticipation grows intense for childlike souls believing. So, when it's o'er, the past increase, on Christmas in the evening, we must reflect, and find release to sip our tea alleving. The greatest times throughout the years, this Christmas in the evening are at His Birth and Life Restored. Salvation, His bequeathing. by Jay O’Toole on December 25th, 2024 |
Christmas time is here, again, and as we wrap, then sleep, family hearts in love we tend. Great blessings we would reap. Christmas time in many ways begins our time with Christ. All He is, the things He says, His Gift of unsurpassed Price. Christmas time need not be gone when Christmas Day is o'er. Everlasting life He won, determined all Before. Christmas time at this age runs, and soon the new year's here. The Savior of all earthly sons o'ercomes our every fear. Christmas time, tomorrow's Joy, evermore the same will be our lasting, blest employ to He, Who for us came. by Jay O’Toole on December 24th, 2024 |
Some more to do, some more to buy, some things will not get done. The season came, went on the fly, 'twas spent as though there's none. The day before the day before, 'tis now our time is gone. With Christmas here, Yea at the door the yearly curtain's drawn. The wheels upon the road revolve to take us to events, but how can we our chores now solve, our garlic, spices mince? The gift of time spent with our kin, the moments sipping tea, will sanity and mind we win, and hope for such as we. by Jay O’Toole on December 23rd, 2024 |
The Nights of Lights are never more, where Dr. Guido lived. Last year they shined as oft before as last night guests received. With gardens dark the memory lives remembering what He preached. "The Light of all the world, He gives Salvation, that can't be reached." How sad, that no more Christmas nights are lit by brightness there, but still the memory of the lights show the heart of Christian care! by Jay O’Toole on December 20th, 2024 |
The sun shines through the wooded stand anticipating night. Cacophony of bird and man adds to this dusky sight. Cars run through the yellow-dotted trees to where they need to go. Warmer temps perspiration frees the coming dark to know. The shorter days will bottom soon. The light will then increase. The spring will come, blest life it's boon, it's joy to soon release. by Jay O’Toole on December 19th, 2024 |
To live without her has been hard these eight months or so. I lose the words, not a wise old bard. We had to let her go. Survive we do, but not with joy at the thoughts of her great loss. Such energy to play with her toy, or chase the ball I'd toss. She was my only friend some nights when work was finally through. This Christmas midnight really bites. Thick silence floats so new. I look upon the shelf to see a box marked with her name, and cry, that she's no more with me, and wonder if there's blame. The doctor made her go so soft, and took away the pain. Now, something beautiful is lost, and my heart is filled with rain. "'Tis better to have loved and lost," quoth Tennyson of old, "than never to have loved at all." This statement's oh so bold. I'm sure that's true, but still my days are filled with silent hours, no barks of love, all glad displays of one, who knew she's ours. I cannot find my Christmas joy, the one I often knew when Bruhni was alive with us, before her life was through. I know this grief is good heart work, but work it is so hard. This poetry is my best balm, laid thick, like cooking lard. Merry Christmas, Dear Sweet Bruhn! You're in my heart, today. I pray, that when I'm with The Son restored with you's okay. by Jay O’Toole on December 18th, 2024 |
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