Letting Go

I worry so much about the seeds in my hand that my grip alone is crushing them. They will die, they will never live, in my hand, under my control. The hardest duty of a sower is to let his babies go, and let them fall to the earth, and die. They will die. All seeds do. And if they so die, not death eternal but a spring of life sprouting high into the sunlight – that is what happens when the sower let’s go. He must let them die so that new life – new and neverending life – can grow from that hard shell form.