The river may meander across great distances, growing broader and deeper as it flows. It may twist through mountains, valleys, cities, and plains, touching countless lives and shaping many lands. Along the way, it may gather silt, absorb rainfall, merge with streams, and even change its course. To the eye, the river appears vast, dynamic, and ever-shifting.
Yet no matter how wide it becomes or how far it travels, the river still flows from a single source — steady, faithful, and unchanging. Its origin gives it life. Its beginning defines its essence. Without the source, there would be no river, no current, no life-giving flow.
In the same way, our lives — like rivers — may stretch across varied seasons and landscapes. We may evolve, adapt, and expand. We may encounter different people, challenges, cultures, and callings. But if we remain rooted in our source — in God, who is constant and eternal — we will not lose our identity. Though our circumstances may change, our origin anchors us.
This truth speaks of legacy, identity, and divine purpose. The river may nourish nations, move boundaries, and carve canyons, but it never forgets its source. Likewise, when we remember where we come from — who we belong to — we can move forward in confidence, knowing that our strength does not lie in the size of the current, but in the constancy of the fountain.
The river’s power, direction, and endurance all depend on its connection to its source. And so it is with us.
The Source Remains
The river winds through field and stone,
It sings in tongues the world has known.
It stretches wide, it runs so deep,
It carries dreams, it stirs from sleep.
It dances through the mountain’s grace,
It carves its path, it finds its place.
It gathers rain, it joins the tide,
And carries life on either side.
But though it grows and shifts with time,
And journeys far through dust and clime,
It never strays from one true claim—
Its source remains, its root, its name.
The waters flow, but still they trace
The fountain’s hand, the starting place.
For all its power, reach, and range,
Its life is born from what won’t change.
And we, like rivers, rise and run,
Beneath the stars, beneath the sun.
Our courses curve through joy and pain,
Yet God, our source, will still remain.
Though seasons shift and paths divide,
His faithfulness is where we hide.
Our strength, our song, our steady frame—
The river moves, but not its name.
So let us flow, let purpose swell,
Yet stay where living waters dwell.
For though the river may grow wide,
Its source is still its truest guide.
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