A
famous man once said that meekness in a person is a blessed thing, and I think
I’m finally starting to see his meaning. It seems to me now, finally, that
meekness is a strength instead of a weakness. In meekness, surprisingly, we sometimes
stand up stronger than in assertiveness. When we bow, we sometimes win. Trees
that survive are those that submit to strong winds instead of resisting them,
and water almost always wins because it yields itself softly to obstructions. Meekness
means a brave kind of obedience. Streams are obedient to boulders and flow
effortlessly around them. Flowers are obedient to breezes and bow with ease and
elegance. I am obedient to my heart and lungs and let them lead the way. In
meekness we are mild in a daring way, gentle in just the way the strongest
trees are.
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