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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 fall in annual call brings colors, that secure the eyes to daily prize. It's cold is really bold. Relief for hottest grief in hope to cause us cope. These days of joyous stays in times of hope sublime bring smiles throughout the miles. The gifts, that always lift are sweet as those we eat. We come to share them some. Our tears are always clear. The end of gifts we send, 'tis done the party's sun. August is when we just begin to Christmas win the shops 'tween which we hop. Hope grows in daily knows The Lord in gracious Word Returns us him to learn. by Jay O’Toole on August 30th, 2024   |
What glee embroidery doth make a gift to take! To wed by promise said. by Jay O’Toole on August 29th, 2024 |
Before I knew there was a "me," my life had just begun. Before the world of man I'd see, I was my father's son. Those nine months swam I in the pool of Momma's belly sized to hold a man, not wise, not fool, but fully cherished, prized. To cry my way to my first breath would start my lungs abreast from first day living, 'til my death, balloons within my chest. This birth of life was not by me, but the Gift of God Alone. The second birth from sin to free by Christ upon His Throne. I graduated from a child to live as very man. Diploma with an honor filed, the college years began. A senior, then a lonely soul, a beauteous lady met, became my wife, and one new whole, a life without regret. Through many hopes past many years a daughter came to bless this home to fill with joyful tears, and many'a bluish tress. The Rapture soon begins The Day. Eternally new we'll be. Before you breathe your last, please pray, "Christ Jesus, set me free!" by Jay O’Toole on August 28th, 2024 |
The past two days have been a gift of love from those so near to my heart, so much from wife and child. by Jay O’Toole on August 27th, 2024 |
"Happy Birthdays!" Treasured gifts, friendships, that are blest. Every sentiment of heart lifts the day to give him rest. Treasured friends make great the day to celebrate the year. All the words, that you did say are honored and so clear. Every year we treasure this, the day, that we each were born. How wonderful emotion's bliss! What gifts of friendship borne! by Jay O’Toole on August 26th, 2024 |
| Sitting 'neath the super moon, waiting for the change. Something comes, and that quite soon. Time to rearrange. Sitting 'neath the super moon, robot writes a lot, but not one AI can yet croon the poems I have got. Sitting 'neath the super moon, looking for control as famous here, that most would swoon, but I've not paid the toll. Sitting 'neath the super moon, waiting for the Lord. Rapture comes, and that quite soon. Time to read The Word. Sitting 'neath the super moon, sound of trumpet call. When he plays The Master's tune lifts His Bride as all. Sitting 'neath the super moon, how much time is left? Our joy at morning, night or noon, but others are bereft. Sitting 'neath the super moon when will Jesus come. Saving Grace on wood, rough-hewn, His Merits are the sum. Sitting 'neath the super moon, meteors fly past, building up some earthly dune, shows of nighttime cast. Sitting 'neath the super moon, One Creator shows Elect are those He doth festoon. The Church of Christ, He grows. Sitting 'neath the super moon, waiting for the change. Something comes, and that quite soon. God doth prearrange. -------------------------------------------------------- Prompt for this week: Write a short sci-fi story under 500 words or a poem under 40 lines using the following words: Moon <<< Robot << Control < Famous < Lines of Poetry: 40 --------------------------------------------------------- by Jay O’Toole on August 23rd, 2024 |
fluffy in the sky water builds to drop right down soaking all the skin by Jay O’Toole on August 22nd, 2024 |
In a moment, all will see what's not there. Christians said this would happen. Bridegroom came. They're away. by Jay O’Toole on August 21st, 2024 |
What shall we write when this day is now past? The sun is now set, and deeds are now done. What shall we say when the first is now last? The temporal is gone, and the lasting is won. What shall we write when the Nano arrives? Is there a tale, that now must be writ? Who are the souls, that newly will thrive in words, we will type, in parts, that will fit? What shall we write in Eternity's Day? For now, we are writing how e'er we'll be known. Each saving in Christ is not words, that we say. The saving is His. By His hands, we are grown. What shall we write, that is not of His gift? What are thoughts we create, that are not of His Seed? What are hopes in our hearts, that He did not lift? What Salvation is owned, that is not His First Deed? by Jay O’Toole on August 20th, 2024 |
hot above the heat flora, fauna need a gift water is a must by Jay O’Toole on August 19th, 2024 |
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