So shall thy barns be filled with plenty, and thy presses shall burst out with new wine.

The seed is rotten under their clods, the garners are laid desolate, the barns are broken down; for the corn is withered.

Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?

And he said, This will I do: I will pull down my barns, and build greater; and there will I bestow all my fruits and my goods.