Let me sing for my beloved my love song concerning his vineyard:
My beloved had a vineyard on a very fertile hill.
He dug it and cleared it of stones,
and planted it with choice vines;
he built a watchtower in the midst of it,
and hewed out a wine vat in it;
and he looked for it to yield grapes,
but it yielded wild grapes.
And now, O inhabitants of
judge between me and my vineyard.
What more was there to do for my vineyard,
that I have not done in it?
Isaiah 5:1-4 (ESV)
What more, indeed, could my Lord do for me?
And yet, when He looks for me to bear love, I produce hatred.
When He looks for me to bring forth joy, I instead yield sorrow.
When He anticipates a harvest of peace, I bring in tumult.
When He hopes for a crop of patience, He reaps intolerance.
When He looks for me to bear kindness, instead He only picks insensitivity.
When He longs for me to produce goodness, I only bring forth depravity.
When He hopes to gather faithfulness, He finds only treachery.
When He comes to His vineyard to collect gentleness, He sees only selfish violence.
When He looks for the fruit of self-control, instead He finds the weed of self-indulgence.
Lord spare your vineyard!
Have mercy, and grant me another season!
[…] be that His fruit will be born upward to the hungry souls around me. A few days ago, I wrote a post about my lack of this fruit. This comes from striving. But as I burrow deeper and deeper into the […]