If mountains did what rivers wanted, we'd sit on our beds and allow the currents to take us high and into our homestead.
But mountains they don't flow; and if we just sit we'll be pushed and shoved through sharp stones and abrasive foes.
Today, we are disconnected and despite the wetness we can't tell the difference between the bitter waters and the quicksands of our fathers.
Wherever we stand we are bound go down.
it's now when we most need a father who never leaves; a Shepheard whose always there, and a spirit that makes us vivid.
So go ahead
So go ahead and cast down the critic.