The harvest is ripened, yet the fields are rotting
There are hearts that are crying out for the truth
That someone would love them, teach them, save them
What if they’re looking to me and you?
We are called to be fishers, disciples, teachers
Why are we waiting till we’re done with our youth?
It makes my heart ache to see the days that we waste
When they’re calling out for help from me and you.
Let us lead lives of purpose, with boldness and courage
With eyes set on Jesus, in our weakness His strength
Though we’ll face opposition, let this be our mission
To reach our neighbors, the world, no matter the length
Be it listening, talking, praying, or crying
Showing grace, hope, and love is a beautiful thing
Adopting the orphan, feed the hungry, hold the dying
We’re just simple hands working hard for the king
Our energy’s plenty, and the harvest is ready
I have only one life, this I surrender to You
That they would know from my words, my smile, my touch,
The redeeming hope and love that only comes from You.
I was up late last night with this poem on my mind and in my heart. I'd written the first stanza several weeks ago but hadn't had the time to sit in the stillness and let the Lord speak to my heart. In my cozy room at home, late last night, I was able to sit and collect my thoughts and finish this poem.
The Lord has been burdening my heart for the needs, both physical and emotional/spiritual of both the unreached and of the Church. The fields are ripe, ready for harvest. Where are the workers? I include myself in this COMPLETELY. How often I choose my own selfish comfort rather than investing in someone else. How often I chase after my own dreams rather than ministry opportunities.
I encourage you to ponder along with me.
Where/who/what is my "field?"
What changes do I need to make in order to serve there?
How can I best prepare myself for future ministry?