Plans, ambitions, hopes, visions, dreams — sometimes they shrivel, sometimes they die.

Until they die, they cannot produce new life and fruit.

“Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit” (John 12:24).

And yet, how bitter is that death!

So I hate it and I resist it. I avoid it and try to outwit it.

Strange? Well, natural, anyway.

May God bring life, fruit, and glory from these dead and buried (but still strongly cherished) seeds.