Far across the horizon,
A lone figure working there.
He was plowing with his team,
Turning sod and laying it bare.
At the end of the field he would turn,
Then laying down row after row.
Beneath the hot sun he toiled
Plowing, row after row.
Behind the plow birds would gather
Looking for grubs with each clod.
On and on he kept plowing
Digging and turning the sod.
He grew very tired and dusty
As hour after hour stretched on.
By noon, worn and hungry,
Under a tree, he gave a big yawn.
There in the shade so welcome
He ate his lunch with praise.
Thinking of the crop he would plant
Of the crop, God soon would raise.
Then, with a smile, back he turned,
To what God had called him to do.
And with Christ by his side, he turned to his plow
And plowed the whole day through.
© by Paul H. Leaman
And let us not be weary in well doing:
for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.
This writing may be used in its entirety, with credits in tact,
for non-profit ministering purposes.
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