Drought: Growing A Different Crop

Dust clings tenaciously to nothing
The roots of plants reach deep in vain
Lips are parched - in need of liquid
As, in desperation, we watch for rain

Faith clings steadfast to little
The roots of hope reach deep once more
Hearts are parched - in need of revival
As we seek God's face like times before

The hope of rain may disappoint
The crops may refuse to yield
Our faith may go though testing
Our heart's a dry and dusty field

We CAN grow in the desert
We CAN sing songs of praise
The God of harvest hasn't left us
He chose a different crop to raise

Are we willing, fertile soil?
Are we ready for the seed?
He may leave our hearts unplanted
Until we recognize our need

And in the end, perhaps we'll say
As hope springs forth new trust
If blessings seem a long way off
"We have faith in the God of dust."

For when nourished with Living Water
In time there will be no doubt
A new crop will thrive with our hearts
From the seed He caused to sprout

Glenn A. Hascall

[ by: Glenn A. Hascall Copyright © 2003 (cmi@prairieweb.com) -- from Glenn A. Hascall ]


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