Except a grain of wheat
fall, catch the current of the wind,
lose all sense of direction,
to rest in a place unbidden and foreign,
it remains a single grain.
Yet, unbridled or contained,
and at the
mercy of God’s faithfulness,
it bears the seed for the new season’s
It becomes new bread.
Yes, I think it is that what often
looks like death,
or lack of fruitfulness, is instead,
time it takes
for the gift of life to flourish.
And tears, and
gestures, or words,
the frustrated expressions
from good intents
gone vaguely wrong,
or not as we would have determined;
that appears to be in vain.
They bear our heart’s cries as seed;
while God’s purposes he sometimes shields,
from our current
So that just like grain, or leaves,
we find next season’s yield,
is often stored
the remains of the first.
Apparent death just the shedding
that brings about new birth.
Ana Lisa de Jong
“Very truly I tell you, unless a
kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single
seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.”
“...He prepares the earth for his people and sends them rich
harvests of grain.” (Psalm 65:9)