The Men of Iron Minute
by Chad Zueck | Director of Content Creation
Deep in the North Georgia woods lies a trickle of water flowing down a rock-faced crevasse. I have seen it many times. The flow rate is always the same with the certainty of the ozone smell during rain. It seems untouched by drought or flood. The slow and steady rate is rhythmic like a water-fed metronome. The cold and refreshing water helps a hiker push past the boundary markers of miles and monotony while feeding the vegetation. The mountains that call this stream home are not as high as the Alps or Rocky’s, but the blue ridge view is majestic. The water meanders down the rocks weaving in and out of the ground, and an exact origin is a place deep within the granite. Somewhere along the rock face, this spring-fed oasis breaks the earth’s surface, letting gravity move it to the mountain’s base. Without care, you can drink it like the pioneers and gold diggers centuries before. The water is pure and refreshing, just like God made it.
Deep in the heart of every man lies a longing for reliable truth. We yearn, search and hunger for truth and live lost without it. The truth revives the soul without smudge or blemish. The truth leaves no residue of error or confusion. The truth reorients the soul to the greener pastures of human flourishing. The truth permeates throughout bone and marrow to form a better man. As a man weaves in and out of life, the truth is a beacon of hope and inspiration. It’s the truth that sets a man free. Drink up this sweet nectar of grace.
The instructions of the Lord are perfect, reviving the soul. The decrees of the Lord are trustworthy, making wise the simple. Psalm 19:7, NLT
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