"I Am a Seed"

"I Am a Seed"
by Randal Gilmore

I am a seed.
I live inside a shell attached to a leaf of a strong sturdy sycamore.
My design reflects the hand of a Wise and Mighty Creator.
Full of promise, I fall to the ground and die.
I become a tree.

I am a tree.
I lift my limbs in praise each day as birds joyfully build their nests.
My branches refresh those seeking refuge from the noonday sun.
Full of purpose, I fall to the ground and die.
I become a piece of wood.

I am a piece of wood.
The lines in my grain tell of faithful service from previous years.
My usefulness remains, though my bark is stripped away.
Full of surrender, I rest in the hands of a master carpenter.
I become a pole.

I am a pole.
Long, straight, and perfectly shaped, I cannot be broken.
A piece of sharp iron attaches to one of my ends.
Full of pride, I pass into the hands of an arms merchant.
I become a spear.

I am a spear.
Carried to Golgotha in the hands of a Roman soldier, I lust to spill blood.
The promise and purpose of my original design no longer matter.
Full of indifference, I pierce the side of the sinless Son of God.
I become ashamed.

I am ashamed.
How did I stray so far from the hand of my Maker? How did I turn so quickly from the wise usefulness of His design?
Was it because I stopped dying?
Had I surrendered to the wrong master?
Had I allowed pride and indifference to take control?

Full of repentance, I fall to my knees to ask for forgiveness.
Once again, I become His seed.