THE WILD FIELD

I walked into the field this morning,

Thought I'd find a rose or two.

Instead I found ten angry donkeys,

And one of them looked just like me.

A fox was selling shortcuts,

A crow was shouting, "You have arrived!"

A snake said, "Skip the morning meeting,"

And somehow that sounded wise.

The weeds were taller than my faith,

The mud was deeper than my prayer.

Every step I tried to take

Found another hole waiting there.

Then pride rode by on a shiny horse,

Wearing a crown ten feet high.

He said, "You don't need the friends today."

Five minutes later he was gone.

Doubt was hiding in the bushes,

Fear was sleeping in the shade.

Jealousy was counting everyone else's blessings,

While I was counting my mistakes.

By noon I wanted to quit the field.

By supper I wanted to burn it down.

By evening I finally remembered—

The Owner was walking around.

Then suddenly it all made sense.

The beasts were never there to stay.

Each one came to show a weakness

That needed work that day.

So now when wolves start howling

And wild thoughts begin to run,

I tip my hat and say, "Good morning,

Looks like today's work has begun."

The field is rough.

The field is wild.

The field can make a grown man cry.

But every thorn,

And every beast,

Is one more reason to aim on high.

And when the day is finally over,

And all my plans have come undone,

I laugh and tell the friends,

"Well boys...

The field won again."

Then we pray,

Get up,

And start tomorrow's work.