There I was,
Parked on a hill,
Of slippery thoughts,
If stepping on brakes kept me alive,
I would not be alive too long,
Since muscles will soon tire.
To carry on without falling backwards,
You must step on the accelerator,
Keep allowing the fuel to your engine,
Like God's Word to a thirsty person,
Going on instead of backsliding,
As you journey on treacherous slopes.
No comments:
Post a Comment