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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 job was going as it often goes. To pull the trash and clean the bathrooms sweet. The pallet jack was called, and now I know each change we make becomes a learning treat. Many tasks, little time, finish well, lose no place. Some help was given by a newish man. Each task removed, then gave my heart some peace. The shift was finished with the body tired. The job was going as it often goes. by Jay O’Toole on June 22nd, 2023  |
Seeing Truth, He is The One, "who saved a wretch like me." The risen Lord, God's Only Son, Who died, and lives to free. "I am the way, the truth, and life. No man can to Him go, except the one through me has come." Christ gives him faith to know. (John 14:6, KJV) The Word of God is lasting firm. No man can add one word. From "jots and tittles" ev'ry term have His children's spirits stirred. "No man can come to me, the Blest, except The Father bids, I'll raise at the last day," says The Word, that truly is. (John 6:44, KJV) "All that the Father giveth me shall come to me (of Truth,) and him, that cometh here to me, I will ne'er cast him out." (John 6:37, KJV) by Jay O’Toole on June 21st, 2023 |
This life is far from static good. It takes us by surprise. The pine, it seemed such solid wood, until it browns and dies. The day, so bright with joy and cheer, becomes a cloud of black. The tempted heart may lose to fear, and focus on its lack. The child, that seemed to so safe within her carseat blest cocoon is driving in the world of men as growing up so soon. "Take heart, Dear Normal Hov'ring Dad. The Lord is bigger still. He knows your child, and is so glad to keep her in His Will." The twists and turns of earthly days will not be always doubt. The Sovereign Lord of Heaven says, "Trust me to work it out." (John 14:6, KJV) by Jay O’Toole on June 20th, 2023 |
The endodontist saw the tooth, and told me what was wrong. He charged me not a cent. That's truth, and now I have a song. "It's split. The root, and now the doc must take it, and replace the tooth, which needs decay to lock, while keeping Chomper's space." I've had some tears about this thing, but when the pain is gone I'll have some joy to cause me sing when we make right the wrong. The life we live in older years hath aches and pains a bit, but God hath strength beyond our fears to make our trembling quit. by Jay O’Toole on June 19th, 2023 |
Gentle day, a place to hide, before my job begins. Feel emotions deep inside finding ways to win. Sit and rest upon the couch. Write a poem new. Find emotions in the "pouch" of tenderhearted you. Gentle day seems lonely now, but that's a space of peace. Little thoughts bring hope somehow, and tender blest release. by Jay O’Toole on June 16th, 2023 |
To see a canvas needing thread, some white and pink, and then some red, we follow patterns to be led. In time peony's done. To count the stitches left and right, and up and down, it takes all night. Yet, when it's done, it's quite a sight. The paisleys dance and twirl. The sunset photograph becomes a canvas full of image sums. The orange hues like sightline drums make muted viewers all. Each stitch-in-line embroidery, red threads on towel pictures free a coffee cup for all to see with yellow steam above. An oak or elm at end of day, acrylic paints put on display. The varied greens make this soul say, "'Tis fun to make some art." by Jay O’Toole on June 15th, 2023 |
| Rainy days and Wednesdays come to challenge daily tasks with sums, that feeling down and slightly dumb, I'd stand with fully drenching face. I'd hoped to win, but know disgrace. Rainy days and Wednesdays now come rolling in to take a bow. Unquestioned hope is given, how? The constant dripping of the leaves brings cooler temps 'neath shelt'ring eaves. Rainy days and Wednesday's song, make all the world to sing along. We brighten life, and right the wrong, before we give our lungs' last breath to lay this mortal dust in death. Rainy days and Wednesdays gone when lasting Day is seen as dawn. The greenest grass of His great lawn assuages ev'ry earthly fear to make this dusty life most clear. Rainy days and Wednesdays' test becomes eternally the Blest to lean upon the Master's breast, and know His lasting Hope and Joy to ev'ry redeemed girl and boy. by Jay O’Toole on June 14th, 2023 |
When the day's activities have drawn to quiet times, sleepy time proclivities as eyelids close betimes. Daydreams give way to dreams at night. Each breath doth slow to sway. Starry curtain seems as bright as diamonds where they lay. World asleep, though never all for the sun shines, while we spin. In my corner of the ball are resting souls, again. Quiet poet moments known apply the balm of peace. When the wakeful thoughts have flown the soul can know release. by Jay O’Toole on June 13th, 2023 |
Will we know, that He's to come by feelings in our bones? Or will there be the bigger sum of Earth's unusual groans? No man can say when He returns The Bible clearly states. (Matthew 24:36, KJV) The guesses here are processed learns, while waiting for the date. "He has not come 2000 years. What makes you think he will?" Your words have made it pretty clear, my heart can start to thrill. (II Peter 3:4, KJV) The weather has been really strange so far this summer, spring. The deer, now, in the daylight range. At night some birds don't sing. The pansies thrive. For that I'm glad. Caladiums erect, together chorus be not sad, 'til none can heat deflect. The praise of Self, no need of God (II Timothy 3:1-5, KJV) are "red flags" all about. The days of Earth we best applaud. The Word of God we doubt. The days of Noah have returned. (Matthew 24:37, KJV) The "falling away" is here. (II Thessalonians 2:3, KJV) The Truth of God has been unlearned. Look up to the sky so clear. by Jay O’Toole on June 12th, 2023 |
canopy galore beauteous green in summer place to sit and think by Jay O’Toole on June 9th, 2023 |
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