Helen Steiner Rice 

For like the farmer, God chooses a field,
From which He expects an excellent yield.

The farmer ploughs through the fields of green,
And the blade of the plough is sharp and keen
But the seed must be sown to bring forth grain,
For nothing is born without suffering pain.
And God never ploughs in the souls of man,
Without intention of purpose or plan.
So whenever you feel the plough’s sharp blade,
Let not your heart be sore afraid.
For like the farmer, God chooses a field,
From which He expects an excellent yield.
So rejoice, though your heart be broken in two
God seeks to bring forth a rich harvest in you.

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