Sowing

It's amazing when the Lord chooses to answer my prayers in song. Though my interpretation this morning is too personal to publish here, perhaps the words to this hymn will strike a chord with you too, and serve as a reminder to me, lest I forget.

We are sowing, daily sowing, countless seeds of good and ill,

scattered on the level lowland, cast upon the windy hill,

seeds that sink in rich, brown furrows, soft with heaven's gracious rain;

seeds that rest upon the surface of the dry, unyielding plain;

Seeds that fall amid the stillness of the lonely mountain glen;

seeds cast out in crowded places, trodden under foot of men;

seeds by idle hearts forgotten, flung at random on the air;

seeds by faithful souls remembered, sown in tears and love and prayer;

Seeds that lie unchanged, unquickened, lifeless on the teeming mold;

seeds that live and grow and flourish when the sower's hand is cold.

By a whisper sow we blessings, by a breath we scatter strife.

In our words and thoughts and actions lie the seeds of death and life.

Thou who knowest all our weakness, leave us not to sow alone!

Bid thine angels guard the furrows where the precious grain is sown,

till the fields are crown'd with glory, filled with mellow, ripened ears,

filled with fruit of life eternal from the seed we sowed in tears.