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「祂必降臨，像雨降在已割的草地上。」（詩篇七十二篇 6 節）
阿摩司曾談到列王割草的事：我們的王有很多鐮刀，永遠在刈割他的草地，磨刀霍霍之聲，預告著要割去草的數種綠葉，和雜在草中的雛菊和野花。雖然它們在早晨很美麗，不出一兩個鐘頭，那被割的部分都要倒入枯萎的行列之中。
人生也同樣在其痛苦的刈割，失望的修剪，和傷殘的刈削之前，表現出勇敢的精神。
只有刈割才能修整出天鵝絨般的草地；只有讓神的鐮刀通過，才能鍛鍊出溫柔、平衡與和諧。聖經上常把我們比作草 ，把神的榮耀比作花。但草地被割之後，所有的嫩芽都在流血，在荒涼中開出榮耀的花來，其時最適宜接受祂的降臨，「像雨降在已割的草地上」。
信徒啊，你是不是正在被神的鐮刀修割呢？不要怕鐮刀 ── 鐮刀後面定規有細雨跟著的。── 梅爾
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“He shall come down like rain upon the mown grass.” (Psalm 72:6.)
Amos speaks of the king’s mowings. Our King has many scythes, and is perpetually mowing His lawns. The musical tinkle of the whetstone on the scythe portends the cutting down of myriads of green blades, daisies and other flowers. Beautiful as they were in the morning, within an hour or two they lie in long, faded rows.
Thus in human life we make a brave show, before the scythe of pain, the shears of disappointment, the sickle of death.
There is no method of obtaining a velvety lawn but by repeated mowings; and there is no way of developing tenderness, evenness, sympathy, but by the passing of God’s scythes. How constantly the Word of God compares man to grass, and His glory to its flower! But when grass is mown, and all the tender shoots are bleeding, and desolation reigns where flowers were bursting, it is the most acceptable time for showers of rain falling soft and warm.
O soul, thou hast been mown! Time after time the King has come to thee with His sharp scythe. Do not dread the scythe-it is sure to be followed by the shower. --- F. B. Meyer.
“When across the heart deep waves of sorrow Break, as on a dry and barren shore; When hope glistens with no bright tomorrow, And the storm seems sweeping evermore;
“When the cup of every earthly gladness Bears no taste of the life-giving stream; And high hopes, as though to mock our sadness, Fade and die as in some fitful dream,
Who shall hush the weary spirit’s childing? Who the aching void within shall fill? Who shall whisper of a peace abiding, And each surging billow calmly still?
“Only He whose wounded heart was broken With the bitter cross and thorny crown; Whose dear love glad words of joy had spoken, Who His life for us laid meekly down.
“Blessed Healer, all our burdens lighten; Give us peace, Thine own sweet peace, we pray! Keep us near Thee till the morn shall brighten, And all the mists and shadows flee away!”
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