“Then saith he unto his disciples, The harvest truly is plenteous, but the labourers are few; Pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that he will send forth labourers into his harvest.” — Matthew 9:37–38 (KJV)

Out here in the backyard, you can almost smell it when harvest time rolls around—the air changes. The fields turn golden, the tractors start moving, and there’s a sense of urgency. Jesus looked out across the fields of humanity and said, “The harvest is plenteous.” In other words, the world is ripe—ready for hope, ready for healing, ready for Him.

But then He said something that ought to stir our hearts: “The labourers are few.” The problem isn’t with the harvest; it’s with the hands. God’s not short on souls to save—He’s waiting on servants who’ll say, “Here am I, Lord. Send me.”

So today, instead of asking God to move somebody else, what if we prayed, “Lord, move me.”

Help me see the hurting. Help me notice the needy. Help me bring light to my little corner of the field.

The world doesn’t need more spectators—it needs sowers, reapers, and encouragers willing to roll up their sleeves and love people in Jesus’ name.

The harvest is ready, friend. The question is—are we?