21/04/2026
There are seasons in life where we walk forward carrying quiet sorrow—grief resting gently beneath the surface—giving, loving, enduring, without yet seeing the outcome. Like seed scattered into the earth, so much of what we pour out is unseen, offered in faith through tears.
Yet this promise remains gentle and sure: what is sown in weeping is not lost.
In time, it rises.
In time, it gathers.
In time, it returns to us—no longer as tears, but as a harvest.
Even in grief, where the heart feels heavy and the days feel long, something sacred is still unfolding. Joy may feel distant in the moment, but it is not absent—it is simply growing, beneath the surface, waiting for its season. 🌾
“He who continually goes forth weeping, Bearing seed for sowing, Shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, Bringing his sheaves with him.”
Psalms 126:6