Farm To Table

I remember a time when people dined out and they weren’t truly concerned about where the food the cooks prepared came from. In this time, the main concern was only that it was served hot, quick, and the price point wasn’t painful. But then came the Farm to Table movement! A renaissance of reverence for what was real. Food stripped of the artificial… and grown, harvested, and prepared with integrity. It was a response to processed living such as preservatives in our meals, distractions in our minds, and shortcuts in our souls.

The idea was simple yet revolutionary… bring nourishment straight from the source. Unprocessed… Undiluted… and Uncorrupted.

But something ironic happened. As the movement grew, the demand for fresh, authentic meals soared. Everyone wanted a seat at the table… but few wanted to do the farming. Because farming isn’t glamorous. It’s early mornings and dirty hands. It’s sowing in faith and waiting without applause. It’s laboring in soil that sometimes looks barren, believing that something beneath the surface is still alive.

And yet, without farmers, the tables go empty.

Jesus said it plainly:

“The harvest is great, but the workers are few. So pray to the Lord who is in charge of the harvest; ask Him to send more workers into His fields. Now go, and remember that I am sending you out as lambs among wolves.”
— Luke 10:2–3 (NLT)

The same holds true today… spiritually, relationally, and personally.
We’re surrounded by tables… places of opportunity, influence, and abundance… but they’re running low on supply. Too many mouths, not enough makers. Too many seekers of the feast, not enough sowers of the field.

Everyone wants to eat well, but few want to work well.
Everyone wants community, but few want cultivation.
Everyone wants purpose, but few want process.

And the truth is simply you can’t sit at a table you never helped build. You can’t eat from a field you never helped till. And you can’t expect fruit in a life where you never planted seed.

So I have to ask you…
Are you one of the farmers or just another patron waiting to be served?
Are you willing to plant when no one’s watching, to water when you’re weary, and to trust the growth you can’t yet see?

Because the harvest is here, but the hands are missing.

And perhaps the deeper question is this: When Christ sends you out, are you going as a lamb… gentle, humble, willing to serve? Or are you moving like a wolf… hungry for the seat, but uninterested in the soil?

The movement from farm to table wasn’t just about food, it was about integrity.
And maybe that’s the call today:
To live unprocessed.
To live close to the Source.
To get our hands dirty again in the work of what’s real.

Because the world doesn’t need more people waiting to be fed. It needs more farmers.

We’re all responsible for ourselves… and that includes the farms we till to create tables for others to feast at.

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Everyone loves the glow of the harvest table. From the laughter to the full plates to the scent of something well-seasoned with grace. But here’s what few will admit: tables make you feel important; farms make you feel small.

To be a farmer is to live in the tension of obscurity. You sow seeds that won’t sprout for months. You tend to rows no one thanks you for. You get calloused hands while others get comfortable chairs. You give your best hours to dirt… trusting that Heaven will do the rest.

That’s why most people don’t stay long in the field. They start with excitement… until they realize farming doesn’t guarantee applause, only growth. It doesn’t promise recognition, only revelation.

See, sitting at the table costs you nothing but time.
Serving at the table costs you your comfort.
But farming for the table? That costs you yourself.

Christ’s words in Luke weren’t casual… they were a commission.
He didn’t say, “Go to the feast.” He said, “Go to the fields.”
He didn’t promise it’d be safe… He warned us we’d be like lambs among wolves.

So maybe the real measure of maturity isn’t how eloquently you can pray for your harvest… but whether you’ll keep sowing when it looks like the soil forgot you.

Because wolves feast on what others prepare.
Lambs labor for what others will one day eat.

And that’s the dividing line between performance and purpose, between appearance and authenticity.

So before you take your next seat at a table, pause. Ask yourself…
Am I here to be served, or did I come to serve? Am I consuming what others cultivated, or am I cultivating something others will one day consume?

Because Heaven is still hiring farmers… and there’s plenty of land left to tend.

The harvest is great. The workers are few. Which will you be… lamb or wolf?