Many times a grain of wheat has to die In order to revive from the dead and dry So things have to leave us and be buried to die
The grain of wheat has to die In the depths of dark soil Before it rises up to raise A rich harvest without spoil
A branch grafted in a bitter tree To grow to bear sweeter fruit And that entire tree transforms To a great fruit tree from the root
Storms and rains lash out On lands with great destruction But they cleanse out the land And purify it for redemption
An earthquake can shake up a land To cause harm and hurt But sweet springs and treasures And rich oil rise out of the dirt In dank desert dry soil Suddenly springs flow out When deep trenches are dug out The soil deeper is richer New plants, crop start to sprout
The shell of a walnut bitter Hard as a rocky stone To reach to the nut inside Can only be broken alone
As a butterfly struggles To get out of its cocoon The struggle gives strength To its wings to fly Without that struggle It would be crippled and soon die
So in our process of pain Let us go through it and grow Let us grip to God’s help And as we lean on Him And learn to let go Letting that tiny grain of wheat die It will soon reap a harvest And then chains will be broken Free now, we will learn to fly
Rita F. Kurian
John 12:24: Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abides alone: but if it die, it brings forth much fruit
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