Hold Fast The Plough Poem by Michael P. Johnson

Some seem to think Salvation’s blind
The way they walk in shame
But though God’s love, although He’s kind
He’s also Living Flame

The living Christ is Lord and King
Our Fortress Shield and Guide
He’s not some puppet on a string
To use then lay aside

We can’t just call in times of drought
For God to send His rain
Drink each our fill then turn about
Repeating sins refrain

He’s no ones fool, this God of ours
He sees; the heart and soul
Yet still with love He’ll send us showers
To save and make us whole

God’s living word is like the rain
The soil’s like me and you
Before the Lords return again
We must be born anew

So let us plough the dried up soil
The seed of truth plant deep
Anoint our leaves with precious Oil
Until it’s time to reap

At harvest time, to lend a hand
We’ll need the Gardener’s grace
So all His wheat from every land
May live to see His face

Take care who hear Salvation’s call
Who taste God’s love so true
Don’t take the plough, to let it fall
Yet woe betides who do.