See the tilling of the farmer

See the tilling of the Farmer

His arms are plowing the land

He doesn't mind that the process is slow

Focused on the little seeds within his pocket

He grabs a few

and gently puts them in the earth

He smiles and whispers

Soon little seeds you will give birth

How can flowers grow

When weeds overshadow the seeds

Should it not rain and moist the ground

How can trees be fruitful

If there are only nettles to be found

I have never seen such a messy land

The farmer nods his head

Oh dear, you don't understand

Pruning my friend

That does the trick

Says the farmer with a smile

He walks away for a minute and takes His stick

I will burn cut and dig away

All that bears no fruit

like on the Lord's day

Now I don't know what to think

What do you mean

I ask the farmer without a blink

He looks at me and says

Your heart needs pruning

from all sin, dirth and pain

But all that goes through fire

will not be in vain

Have you lost your mind farmer

I have been carrying it all my life

how can I be sure that what I carry

is not in vain?

after all, life has shown me

that there is for sure no gain

in letting go and letting God

Where was He when and how and where

Your questions tore me

says the farmer with a tear

But really, I was very, very near

I look at the farmer

tilling the messy ground

oke farmer

here you have my dirth, sin and pain

when I suddenly see a flame

The farmer

once kind and gentle

now burning with eyes of fire

takes away my waste

washes me in blood

and shows me His grave

Here I have paid the price

for your pruning my friend

Now, go and live in freedom

for in due time

you will bear fruit

I tremble when He looks at me

When He takes away the useless root

His eyes are full of love

and He fills me with new life

I see him carrying my heavy load

to the compost

where He uses all that he has found

It is true

now my pain has a purpose

my cry a future

See the tilling of the farmer

Now He gives me a stick and a bag full of seeds

go into the land and take out the weeds

Let Me do the pruning

Let Me do the burning

For I have paid the price

You can tell your story

Torching and flaming

My salvation proclaiming

See the tilling of the farmer