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「那耕地為要撒種的，豈是常常耕地呢？」（聖經以賽亞書二十八章 24 節）
一天初夏，我走過一塊美麗的草場。上面的青草非常柔軟、濃厚、純粹，真像一塊東方的綠色大地毯。草場的一隅栽著一棵美麗的古樹，樹上停著無數美麗的野鳥；晴朗的空中充滿了牠們悅耳的歌聲。兩隻母牛躺臥在涼爽的樹蔭下，洋洋得意。
路旁種著黃色的蒲公英，蒲公英中間，又夾著紫色的紫羅蘭。
我倚著竹籬呆望了好久，盡量飽享了一頓眼福，心中想著：神所造的宇宙中，沒有一處能比這裡更美麗更可愛了。
第二天我又走過那條路，看啊！那幅美麗的圖畫全被拆毀了。一個農夫扶著鐵犁，站在土畦間，在一天之內造成了這一個大破壞 ！綠色的青草沒有了，留著的只是一片醜陋光禿的黃土；歌唱的野鳥不見了，卻換來了幾隻抓土啄蟲的老母雞。路旁的蒲公英、美麗的紫羅蘭，一概都不見了。我憂憂愁愁地自語著：「這樣美麗的東西，也有人忍心損害嗎？」
那時全能的手打開了我的眼睛，叫我看見已熟的莊稼等待人去收割。我能夠看見巨大遲笨的稻草人巍立在日光之下；我能夠聽見秋風吹過麥穗的響聲。我領悟到：若不經過那塊醜陋光禿的黃土，就得不到收割莊稼的榮光。
親愛的讀者，我們的上帝是我們心田的農夫，祂常常來耕墾我們的心田，將我們自以為最美麗的東西拔去，留給我們一個光禿禿不美麗的光景；我們應當忍著暫時的痛楚，仰望前面收穫的豐富。──選
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"Doth the plowman plow all day to sow? (Isa. 28:24.)
ONE day in early summer I walked past a beautiful mead own. The grass was as soft and thick and fine as an immense green Oriental rug. In one corner stood a fine old tree, a sanctuary for numberless wild birds; the crisp, sweet air was full of their happy songs. Two cows lay in the shade, the very picture of content.
Down by the roadside the saucy dandelion mingled his gold with the royal purple of the wild violet.
I leaned against the fence for a long time, feasting my hungry eyes, and thinking in my soul that God never made a fairer spot than my lovely meadow.
The next day I passed that way again, and lo! the hand of the despoiler had been there. A plowman and his great plow, now standing idle in the furrow, had in a day wrought a terrible havoc. Instead of the green grass there was turned up to view the ugly, bare, brown earth; instead of the singing birds there were only a few hens industriously scratching for worms. Gone were the dandelion and the pretty violet. I said in my grief, "How could any one spoil a thing so fair?"
Then my eyes were opened by some unseen hand, and I saw a vision, a vision of a field of ripe corn ready for the harvest. I could see the giant, heavily laden stalks in the autumn sun; I could almost hear the music of the wind as it would sweep across the golden tassels. And before I was aware, the brown earth took on a splendor it had not had the day before.
Oh, that we might always catch the vision of an abundant harvest, when the great Master Plowman comes, as He often does, and furrows through our very souls, uprooting and turning under that which we thought most fair, and leaving for our torturer gaze only the bare and the unbeautiful. --- Selected.
Why should I start at the plough of my Lord, that maketh the deep furrows on my soul? I know He is no idle husbandman, He purposeth a crop. --- Samuel Reutherford.
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