I walked beside the vast wheat field, paused and looked around.
Not so long ago this field had been but barren ground.
“How can this be?” as I observed the wondrous picture now.
Seeds sown a few short weeks ago have sprung to life, somehow!
A desolate, wasted field I’d seen so many times before.
So cold and hard, forlorn it seemed, with hopes of nothing more.
The sower in his wisdom saw beyond the rocky soil
And fought the element’s harsh demands in weeks of weary toil.
The seeds fell ‘neath the broken earth, waiting, dying there.
Then sprung to life and would behold the sunshine and the air.
The blessing of the gentle rain would help them start to grow
Abundant life now in that field, a harvest to bestow!
I cannot know the price they’ve paid, the cost, the faithful sacrifice
When called to labor in that field. How can I know the greatness of the price?
I cannot know what they have felt, the tears, the seed, the barren ground.
They could have had what others have; at Jesus’ feet, they’ve cast it down.
And lives consumed in waste and ruin fall on their knees and pray.
Like sunshine beaming on the field, now see the perfect way.
A ray of hope for darkest day, the Gospel message rang
And from the empty shell of life, a resurrection came.
It’s all about the harvest and the loyal servants’ toil.
They sow in hope the seeds will fall in waiting, ready soil.
It’s all about the harvest a heart bows broken, bent
And they’ll rejoice on that great day because someone was sent.