I have walked across dusty fields and have broken hard and rocky ground. I have toiled under the burning sun and have never seen a harvest. I open up paths and plant a few seed here and there, then I move on to the next patch of ground. My hands are fixed to the plow and I cannot turn back. I have taken on the task and I must follow it to the end. Though in the present I will not know what comes behind me, a time will come when I will see the work I have done. When my last furrow is cut and I lay the yoke of the plow down, I will wipe away the dust of life's journey. I will then see the workers laboring in the fields behind me, reaping from what I have sewn when God says its harvest time.