Del Tarr served as a missionary for fourteen years in Western Africa, just below the Sahara Desert where the climate is similar to that of Bible lands. The rainfall comes in May through August. The other eight months of the year are blazing hot and bone dry. Dust from the barren wasteland gets inside everything—mouths, noses, cupboards, even wristwatches and Bibles.
“Yes, we have!” the boy insists. ‘Out in the hut where we keep the goats, there's a leather sack hanging up on the wall. I reached up and put my hand down in there. Daddy, there's grain in there! Give it to Mommy so she can make flour, and tonight our tummies can sleep!’
The father stands motionless. “Son, we can't do that, he softly explains. ‘That's next year’s seed grain. It's the only thing between us and starvation. We're waiting for the rains, and then we must use it.’
The rains finally arrive in May, then the young boy watches as his father takes the sack from the wall and does the most unreasonable thing imaginable. Instead of feeding his desperately weakened family, he goes to the field and with tears streaming down his face, he takes the precious seed and throws it away. He scatters it in the dirt! Why? Because he believes in the harvest.”[1]
Del Tarr
What a stirring challenge to keep sowing Gospel seed, even when it doesn’t seem to make sense or when results are not immediately obvious. I have felt the sting of tears many times trying to serve the Lord. A sermon falls flat, as it seems people have cotton balls in their ears. A man I am witnessing to about the Lord rejects the offer of eternal life. A long season of spiritual drought when its hard to hear God’s voice and it seems like the Enemy is winning.
I’m glad for the struggle,
because it has proven my God to be strong and the Gospel to be trustworthy. I
will remember the harvest, so that when I must sow again in tears I will not
give up before I see God come through. -DM
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