When we speak of seasons of like we press in seeking to find the end. The growth. The harvest. We wait only for the when it has passed. We beg for God to show us the edge so with all our strength we can run the last leg, the final hill.
But remember its origin. To sow. We have planted in this season. We have dug our hands in deep. The mud of the thick beneath our nails. With love we plant faith, hope, dreams. We forget that moment of joy. When we looked into each other’s eyes, the end clearly in mind & said yes God with abundant joy bursting.
So in this season you are tending through, remember that joy you first felt. He is sovereign. His word is solid. He will bring about all he has promised.