Cast your bread on the surface of the waters, for you will find it after many days.
Divide your portion to seven, or even to eight, for you do not know what misfortune may occur on the earth.
If the clouds are full, they pour out rain upon the earth; and whether a tree falls toward the south or toward the north, wherever the tree falls, there it lies.
He who watches the wind will not sow and he who looks at the clouds will not reap.
Just as you do not know the path of the wind and how bones are formed in the womb of the pregnant woman, so you do not know the activity of God who makes all things.
Sow your seed in the morning and do not be idle in the evening, for you do not know whether morning or evening sowing will succeed, or whether both of them alike will be good.
The light is pleasant, and it is good for the eyes to see the sun.
Pastor Jeong quotes this scripture often these days. In dawn prayer there is no interpretation, so instead imaginations float on deciphering what God has for us this day.
This scripture is so beautiful for this day; so harsh, and brash, and truthful; yet still unrelentingly beautiful.
The north and south imagery is breathtaking in the face of Foxnews.com predictions (rumors) of war, and waiting for the hour of English news we receive each day, which, shockingly, suffices just as well without the other 23 hours of filler material we are accustomed to.
Or maybe it's the idea that we shouldn't rely on surrounding circumstances - that if we watch the wind we will never sow - to follow God's leading.
Or just the continued dawning of the revelation that I just don't get God. I don't understand how God operates in any tangible way. I don't know why God has me here. I don't think I will ever comprehend God in any significant way.
The sun is pleasant, and it is good for the eyes to see the sun. Indeed it is. It's good to see the sun, rising and setting without any diffidence to me.