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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 sun was shining wondrous bright. The pansies needed homes. The work required was far from light. I tousled up the loam. A three-pronged claw released the roots. My hands grabbed clods of grass, and throwing them past my big boots, I finished a big task. Garden soil, now, fully bare, I brought the cedar mulch, and smoothed the cover from here to there aroma to divulge. Well thought-out placement, flower faces found their homes in front of the greenhouse "castle," and it's graces, like a cake of loamy bundt. This joy, now done needs water's spray to quench the thirst of all, to settle roots in newest day, protection from God call. Such beauty blessed, I pray their safety now from cold and fauna, that they might e'er live. The frost tonight could make them freeze and bow, but hope in tact, I'll wait them time to give. The pansies last beyond the hardened freeze, but deer can be another thing, indeed. The ice can come and go on all of these, but "salad" brings them low of faunish greed. By grace we'll see the pansies soon, and joy at ev'ry sight. Tonight the cold may be a boon for springtime's joy, delight. by Jay O’Toole on January 27th, 2023 |
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