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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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Created: October 24th, 2018 at 12:26am
Modified: May 3rd, 2024 at 2:43pm
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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)
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The Blessed Hope of Christ's Return
to whisk His Bride away
is Joy for which she now doth yearn
through ev'ry passing day.
"When will He come to take me Home?
When will the evil end?
When will I rest, no more to roam?
When say I, 'Bye' to sin?"
Do wear, thee, garment for the Feast?
Is decked thy robe all white?
Is the oil lamp trimmed by even the least?
Is the extra oil made right?
When The Trumpet Call and the Shout is made,
The Bride must ready be.
Thy sins upon The Groom were laid.
The Bride made ready He.
The Blessed Hope is by His Hands.
The Bride He chose by His Will.
The Everlasting Day by His Plan
He evermore fulfills.
by Jay O’Toole
on March 12th, 2024
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coating land and sea
tough the breaths for all that's made
pretty are the blooms
by Jay O’Toole
on March 11th, 2024
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The catching of The Bride away
will come just like a thief.
With lanterns trimmed, plus oil obey,
while others shake in grief.
The winds of change, tornado gale,
seems nothing, that we do
can stop the path, that's sure to fail,
until this day is through.
In just a moment some will fly
as others wonder, "What?"
Salvation comes, new birthing's cry
as Bible readers' taught.
The transformation comes by choice,
The Choice of God, Who saves. (John 6:44)
When saved by Him the souls rejoice,
no more in spirit graves. (John 6:37)
The Trumpet's sound, the cry, "Come Up!"
the saints are whisked away.
The Table's set with Him to sup,
it starts the lasting Day.
by Jay O’Toole
on March 8th, 2024
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That some may cause to wonder, "Why?"
brings sadness to my day.
There are some, whose silent non-reply
may cause the dark to stay.
That some would make me stand in the rain,
while doing what they will,
becomes an awful mound of pain
with holes in the heart to fill.
But One will never leave adrift
the one, whose heart is changed.
In Hope, He gives new life to lift
the soul, now, rearranged.
The Son of God, born in a cave.
is Truth, all through and through.
He rose up from the stony grave
to save us, me and you.
by Jay O’Toole
on March 6th, 2024
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They're always there, lurking in the wings,
the times of life beyond today.
How do we live to do our daily things
when something waits upon us there to prey?
Though nothing's really wrong right now, I sense
something's ready to be wrong quite soon.
The words I write I slightly mince
to hope for grace and Mercy's boon.
Great waters of the Flood increase
as sinful Man pokes at his God.
The dam of Mercy must release
His Justice as a sea full rod.
"The Days of Noah," God hath warned
are days much like His soon Return.
His Name is e'er adorned or scorned
whe'er lived in folly or we learn.
"God is not man, that He should lie,
nor the son of man, that he should repent."
He has now said. He shan't deny.
In the Days of Judgment, shirts are rent.
"Hath He said, and shall He not do it?
Or hath He spoken, and shall He not make it good?"
All HIStory's days are merely a bit,
and the boasting's of Man are the burnings of wood.
It's always there, lurking in the wings,
the time of some great cosmic deed.
How do we live to do our daily things
when something vast in God's Word we read?
by Jay O’Toole
on March 4th, 2024
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February 29, 2024 at 9:07pm
February 29, 2024 at 9:07pm
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I'd be so tired if I did
the thing this day demands I do.
For if I leaped up from my bed to rid
my sleepiness, and kept on leaping all day through,
I'd have no energy
to quench my growing thirst,
and sadness for my needed sleep would fully rest on me
for when I'd wake for morrow's food, the day'd demand march first.
Where went thee, furry rodent model, early in this month?
I am repeating twenty-nine a-leaping as I go.
You did not see your shadow on February two or oneth,
but leaping I must on this day all long the day, I trow.
Again, no have I energy
to eat my food, nor quench my thirst,
but somehow I must find my bed, and rest this me
for when I'd wake for morrow's food, the day'd demand, "March First!"
by Jay O’Toole
on February 29th, 2024
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February 28, 2024 at 2:18pm
February 28, 2024 at 2:18pm
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To have "a past," we often do.
Its marks can cause us pain,
but saving love when it is through
brings life from which we gain.
"A past" may stop us 'fore we start.
What can I offer, yet?
The thought, that breaks our very heart,
weighed down by Life's regrets.
"A past" can cause us back to shrink.
No hope to leader be.
How could I ever dare to think,
that some would follow me?
"A past" makes shadows bring us peace.
We fade into the wall,
and hope, that "unknown" days increase,
before some "known" could fall.
But One, Who had no past to hide
can cover "past" with Blood
to cause me Hope upon His Side,
to call my life, now, good.
The consequences of my "past"
may bring me bitter tears,
but One, Who is The First and Last
will wipe them with my fears.
My "past" will someday be forgot
in His Forgetting Sea
for I'm the sheep, that He has sought
my weariness to free.
by Jay O’Toole
on February 28th, 2024
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