Hosea 10:12. “Sow to yourselves in righteousness, reap in mercy; break up your fallow ground: for it is time to seek the Lord, till He come and rain righteousness upon you.” IT IS TIME! The field is hard, the unplowed ground its deep potential hidden; Where is that plowman, who so long his work has left undone? Is he asleep while seasons come and go, and there is no one, Anxiously awaiting the fruit that in that field lies unbidden?
Come plowman, challenge the hearts so hard and harder getting; Each passing season, makes it harder still to stir the heart and will Of men and women so deeply steeped in sin, and still Their soul is as precious as that of the children they’re begetting.
The plow goes in; the labor long and heavy as the breaking process So necessary for the precious seed to find a resting place, goes on; And finally, finally as the sweating of the laborer joins moisture in the ground, The plowing work, long left undone, leaves ready ground waiting the life-seed to possess.
The field is ready, the ground is well prepared. The time has come for blessings rich to fall Upon the land, so long lying dormant; it’s time to call The sower from his slumbering bed, the seed to plant and share.
Come sower, that seed you long have kept unused and thus unfruitful; Rise to your feet, and spread that seed so needed by the masses. Life quickly comes and goes; before long the time passes; That season, when the warmth and rain bring life and light, available to all.
And back and forth across the field so long and broad and waiting, The seed is sown by sower with unhesitating steps and hands so skilled; The word is spread to every corner, every spot the plowman carefully tilled
And thus, is sparked the fire of life that brings new hope to those so wanting.
Come reaper, the time is now, the place is here, the harvest full is ripe; It’s white; no time any longer can you dare to wait for any better Weather; the dark clouds overhead gives warning that ahead is danger; Danger of losing that for which the owner of the field, paid so high a price.
Thrust in the sickle, scythe, the harvester so large, and keep them moving; Never hesitate nor linger, time itself is flying to the time and place Of no return; it’s perishable, it’s precious, it’s His and ours the pace To keep; until the last full load of precious cargo, final glory bringing.
Bringing to the Lord of the harvest, whose great compassion saw in all the laborers, A value great, so great He paid redemption’s price for plowman, sower, reaper – all; And then to work in His great field, He sent them with feet and hands and voice to call From every land on earth, those for whom He died and rose again – His worshippers.
“O Lord of the harvest: I am getting older and for some reason can’t seem to get the response to the Gospel message that I feel should be coming. Please show me where I am missing relevant points in the Gospel that need to be thrust into the hearts of the hearers by the divine Spirit of God through the Word preached. In the name of Him who paid the price of sin in blood. Amen.”