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as if he stood before the throne of God. He heard
the children and servants confirm his words.
“He drove the plough in straight furrows, indeed
he did.”
“God will give me a good place in His heaven,”
said the old man.
“Our Lord will receive our master well,” cried
the servants.
The man at the door heard the words, and fear
came över him who had been a shuttlecock in God’s
hands for five long years—a feather driven by the
breath of His spirit.
He went up to the man and took his hand.
“Friend, friend,” he cried, and his voice shook
with fear, “have you considered who the God is
before whose face you will stand soon? He is a
great and awful God! The earth is His field, and
He rides upon the storm. The wide heavens tremble
under the weight of His foot. And you stand
before Him and say, ‘I have ploughed straight
furrows, I have sowed rye and cleared the forest.’
Are you praising yourself before Him and measuring
yourself against Him? You don’t know how
mighty is the God to whose kingdom you are going.”
The old man’s eyes opened wide, his mouth
twitched with fear, and the rattle in his throat grew
deeper.
“Do not go to your God with proud words on
your lips,” continued God’s pilgrim. “The great
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