The clear-cut separateness of evil

Our hearts sank when we looked at the field of winter wheat that we had plowed, harrowed, soil-tested, fertilized, and planted. The weeds were something fierce!

My husband said, "I'm afraid the farmer who's agreed to harvest this crop will take one look at those weeds, turn around, and go back home." To our glad surprise, however, the farmer simply said, "The weeds don't matter." As he went to work with his powerful combine, we watched it pull through the kernels of wheat and strew the chaff and the weeds behind.

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July 17, 1978
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