They sow the wind, they shall reap the whirlwind.
Their wheat will yield no ear, it will yield no flour.
Always we find ourselves battling a headwind.

In our garden we end up with weeds and no flower.

Were I to write out the thousand precepts of my law.

Paid no more attention than those of a stranger.

We claimed we knew but we neither heard nor saw.

And so we pass into ever greater danger.

The harvest is rich.

But the labourers are few.

We have missed our rightful niche.

We are at the end of the spiritual queue.

We set out again and again on the road.

Bearing oh what a heavy load.

……

We look at harvests

Did we contribute at all

Or did we stand by

…….

See Hosea 8 and Matthew 9: 32-37