I am the Sower!

I am the Sower!
This morning my waking thoughts ran rings around the sower Jesus spoke about. I put myself into the mind of that sower. I spread the word. The word is the seed. The ground is the hearts of men available to be reached. There is value in the hearts but it takes the seeds to pull it out and a sower is needed to throw the seed at the soil. I see that as simple as that process is it will not all produce on every soil. After the proverb, the world had come to see the different types of soil and has been able to adapt different seeds to different soils to bring maximum productivity. But the hearts of man has been hardly adaptable. The nonchalant hearts remain so where any and every intruder would come pick things of value and go away scot free. That heart is never serious with what matters. To remember what's valuable is ever difficult except vanities of meaningless music and slangs. I am the sower and I have been there. I travelled again to the land of the rocks. Where there is little soil but much rock. Though could retain the seed so that something else would not have access yet it had not be broken down enough to create space for the roots of the seedlings to hold and when troubles and persecutions come for the word's sake the wind easily removes the seedlings and the once convinced folk couldn't see any more reasons for believing. He can no longer hold on. Basic fundamental principles of life once embraced become things of scorn and too heavy and stressful to practice. I have been there sowing. Then the hearts full of the cares of the world, deceitfulness of riches thorns that contends with the growth of the word. Philosophies of selfishness that would rather fight the eternal principles of dealing. These thorns too were seeds sown. They are the tares sown for a different purpose by the enemy to encumber the ground and bring forth nothing but thorns and thistles as from a cursed ground from Eden. They won't stop the real seed from germinating or becoming a seedling but not further. They choke. The word is just one of those things. It can be rationalized and why should it be the only principle to consider. If it is on marriage, sexuality can be argued and why should sex be bound withing an heterosexual monogamy. It doesn't have to, we can always try new things and other options. It is like the conferences of the stoics and the epicureans at Areopagus, you can always have your say and the truth of the word can easily be lost in the cacophony of a jungle of voices and thoughts.  It is strangulating. This is the forest of thorns and the school of sharks and swimming against the flow puts you at the wrong end of the food chain. Yet the word must flow and must take its stand. Here in this jungle also is the religious tradition plantations, seeds of the word sown by supposed sowers who plant thorns targetted at tearing the flesh and devouring the gullible. Seedlings of superstitions aimed at controlling the not so innocents to selfish benefits with compelling eloquence and false powers so called. In this jungle of ideologies planted and festering in the unrenewed mind throwing in seeds would hardly make a difference. But the sower goes on sowing. Nowadays on different platforms cutting through time and space the seeds keep flying and lighting on different grounds. The sower must keep sowing, morning, noon and night not witholding the hand not knowing which will bring in the harvest. The sower must keep sowing in hope expecting to partake of the proceed. Sower! Keep sowing. Keep sowing don't withold the hand. Sow like the ruminant not minding the big cats and the slim dogs. You will perpetuate while the predators will become endangered by the mysteries of selfishness.  I keep sowing. The evil birds will take their tolls at the way side, the hard grounds will not sustain  too long and the forest of thorns of bitter competition will choke some more but the good ground too is sure and with patience bring forth  in thirtyfold, sixtyfold and in hundredfold. And that will be at last. As the good hearts wait to bring forth fruits with patience so also the sower waits for the seed to go through the process until harvest. Does the husbandman not wait patiently with long patience waiting for the early rain for growing and the latter rain for ripening before harvest? So I wait with the sower daily not relenting until the time to throw in the sickle of harvest. I am also the soil. I receive the word  and I must preserve it from the birds and shield it from the smiting sun. I must turn my rocks to fertile grounds so that my wilderness might become a forest. I must weed off every contention and argument that makes the word of no effect, the traditions of men and the selfish philosophies of rationality must be weeded off and give the word of God its rightful first place. Then I can wait patiently for the harvest for now nothing would stop it. I am the sower, I am the soil and I can also be the seed when I live the word for the world to read as an epistle. I trade in the seeds waiting for the harvest. Be the sower, be the soil and you can also be the seed when you allow the the harvest to come out of you in folds. This is my calling and it is yours too and here is the seed. Be! Good morning folks!