What if the strongest of the strong and the bravest of the braves turns coward on the tides of times? What if the victor yields the field of battle and the legends kneel to the hands the enemies?
These are questions that beg for answers for even the wells of tears and the rivers of bloods could not soften the pains of a grieving heart.
When the darkened clouds of failures beset you, and your armies of allies forsake you, what better life could you wish than to stop your day from coming again.
But as the rivers get their waters from the creeks on the mountains, and the golds trace their ores to the depths of the Earth, so is strength is drawn from somewhere and its power to survive can only last to where it is anchored upon.
I anchored my strength on the Lord my God, and rest my hopes on the promises of His words.
He is the fast-charger of a draining strength. He is the newborn day of a weary hope. He is the spring water of a drought-stricken life.
We can only last to where we are anchored upon. We can only survive to where our strength is rested. We can only claim to where our hopes are founded.
These are the differentiators of the quitters and the victors, the losers and winners, and the cowards and the champions.
For a moment you can survive on the shields of other people, but for a lifetime you can endure in the fortress of my God.