The Sound of Falling Seed

If indeed my flesh does die,
who will then begin to rise?

If indeed my flesh I kill,
what hearts will His Gospel fill?

If indeed I lay me down,
who will grow up from that ground?

If my seed I give my king,
wondrous harvest will He bring?

If “I fear,” to Him I cry!
Says He simply, “Child, all die.”

In His will alone I rest
sacrifice small on altar blessed.

In His presence I abide.
Faith now grows a rising tide.

Grace into my heart does fill,
more hearts, more hearts, more hearts still!

By living dead, many die.
Thousands more are sure to rise.

A martyr’s life is what I lead.
Living martyrs bleed True seed.