INFINITE wisdom takes us in hand, and leads us through deep interior crucifixion to our fine parts, lofty reason, brightest hopes, cherished affections, our pious zeal, our spiritual impetuosity, our narrow culture, our creed and churchism, our success, our spiritual experiences, our spiritual comforts.
The crucifixion goes on until we are dead and detached from all creatures, all saints, all thoughts, all hopes, all plans, all tender heart-yearnings, all preferences; dead to all trouble, all sorrow, all disappointments, all praise or blame, success or failure, comforts and annoyances, climates or nationalities; dead to all desires but Himself.”
There is no field without a seed,
Life raised through death is life indeed.
The smallest, lowliest little flower
A secret is, of mighty power.
To die―it lives―buried to rise―
Abundant life through sacrifice.
Wouldst thou know sacrifice?
It is through loss;
Thou can’st not save but by the Cross.
A corn of wheat except it die,
Can never, never multiply.
The glorious fields of waving gold,
Through death are life a hundred-fold.
Thou who for souls dost weep and pray,
Let not hell’s legions thee dismay.
This is the way of ways for thee,
The way of certain victory.
―The Soul Winner’s Secret.
Let go of the old grain of wheat if you want a harvest.
(Springs In The Valley)