There are seasons when the ground is hard and nothing you sow grows
This is not that season
Times when dreams remain dreams, hope – an invisible cord to cling to
Now is not that time
Lean, barren, colourless and hard
Not even close…
This is the time of seeing every pip you spit take root, grow and flourish
Every dream and desire, come alive in your heart and His hands
The lid is off
The door is open
The soil, ready and waiting.
IT’S PIP SPITTING TIME!