Strength Renewed: Wings That Never Weary
Isaiah 40:31 — But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.
Psalm 103:5 — Who satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.
Habakkuk 3:19 — The Sovereign Lord is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to tread on the heights.
2 Corinthians 4:16 — Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.
Human strength runs out, but divine strength renews endlessly. The eagle’s flight is not just a metaphor for power, but for transcendence — rising above weariness, lifted by the Spirit. The promise is not escape from trials, but endurance within them. To wait on the Lord is to exchange weakness for His strength, to walk without fainting, to run without exhaustion, and to soar beyond earthly limits.
lyrics from Zeb of Virginia Beach and theholygospel.net
from his song “No Matter What”
No matter what
may come my way
i’ll hold on to Jesus
every day
every minute
every hour
I will cling to
Jesus and his love and power
no matter what
no matter what
no weapon formed against me will grow
where Jesus leads that’s where I will go
and from his song “Yours”
Yours is the power Yours is the love
Yours is the guidance we pray to up above
Yours is the righteousness Yours is the victory
Yours is the freedom and the hope of eternity
Forever Yours and Only Yours
🔹 Prayer
Lord, renew our strength today. Lift us on wings of faith, steady our steps, and empower us to run the race without weariness. Let Your Spirit be the wind beneath us. Amen.
🔹 Tags
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“Wings That Never Weary”
The rain hadn’t stopped for three days. Elena sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the empty chair across the room—her daughter’s chair. The chemo had taken more than hair this time. It had taken hope. Or so it felt. She rubbed her temples, weary in body and soul. The bills stacked like tombstones on the kitchen counter. The silence in the house heavier than the storm outside. She whispered, voice cracked like dry earth, “I don’t know how much longer I can carry this.”
Then, from the hallway, a whisper of her own. “Mom?” Elena turned. Maya stood there—thin, pale, but standing. Holding a crumpled piece of paper.
“I had a dream,” she said, shuffling closer. “I was flying. Not like in planes… like birds. Like eagles.”
Elena’s breath caught. She remembered reading Isaiah to Maya when she was little: “They will soar on wings like eagles.” Back then, it was a bedtime promise. Now, it felt like a lifeline tossed from heaven. Maya sat beside her, handing over the paper. On it, scribbled in shaky letters: “No matter what… I’ll hold on to Jesus.”
Outside, the clouds broke—just a sliver—and golden light spilled through the window, catching the raindrops like scattered diamonds.
Elena took her daughter’s hand. Her own exhaustion didn’t vanish. But something deeper stirred—quiet, certain. A strength not her own. She stood. They both did. Not because the storm had passed—but because they remembered whose they were. And in that moment, though their legs trembled, their spirits soared.
