Hold Fast, Stay True: Endurance & Conviction in Life’s Storms

Rule No 7: HOLD FAST. STAY TRUE

Taken from Navy. Hold fast – hang on during rocky times. But believe in yourself

Winter 2020

Final Semester of Undergrad

The Cold, The Wind, and The Weight of It All

Standing on the J train platform at Broadway Junction, the wind cut sharp, carving fresh lines into my face where old stress had once settled.

"Why am I out in this cold?"

It was the first thought that surfaced, followed quickly by another:

"Mankind was not created to be this cold." — something Debbie would say.

Between the freezing air and the distant twinkle of what I imagined to be the Empire State Building, I caught myself chuckling—laughing at my own silent protests as I watched the tree leaves whip frenetically in the wind.

“Eight Years”

Eight winters, eight springs, eight summers, eight falls since I left home. You’d think by now, I’d be used to the cold. That I’d be prepared for the first breath of winter’s wind—the one that always steals something from you when you inhale too fast.

But like those leaves, I still shake under the weight of the cold—and sometimes, under the weight of uncertainty. Sometimes, under the quiet pull of doubt, under the slow erosion of endurance.

But most often, I shake under the weight of building something lasting—storing up treasure where dust and moth can’t reach.

Most of my journals reflect this. My penmanship betrays me in moments I wrote with trembling hands.

In a culture of information overload, rapid cycles of success, and perpetual movement, it’s easy to convince yourself that you are anchored—until the wind shifts.

The Seas Are Never Still

There’s a reason sailors tattoo HOLD FAST across their knuckles.

For some, it’s aesthetic. But the truth is more tangible. It’s a command—a survival instinct.

Hold fast. Grip the ropes. Brace for impact. Secure your footing against the rolling tide.

The ocean is not a place of comfort. It is a place of discipline. The Navy understands this. Mariners across centuries have understood this. Because at sea, the storm is never a matter of if—only when.

Growing up in Guyana, every holiday, Debbie and I would travel to Essequibo to escape the city. We’d take a speedboat from Parika to Supenaam, crossing the Essequibo River.

On days when the river was rough, we’d be tossed mercilessly—its bow breaking against the waves. The worst days were when it rained—sometimes, we’d be launched from our seats only to crash back down as raindrops burst against the turbulent tide.

There was no controlling it. Only holding fast.

Speed Boat - Parika to Supenaam

Photo by Marco Farouk Basir

Life operates under the same conditions.

There will be moments when you are caught in the undertow, when the waves rise higher than anticipated, when everything in you screams to let go.

I’ve had them more times than I care to admit.

But champions—those who refuse to be dictated by conditions—know one unshakable truth:

You do not control the storm. But you control your grip.

You hold fast.
You stay true.

Defining Endurance and Conviction

If you’ve followed along thus far, you’ll recall the simple framework we’ve used:

  • Look up the word and define it.

  • Read it repeatedly until it sinks in.

  • Process it with clarity and intention.

Let’s apply it now—to endurance and conviction.

Endurance (noun):

  1. The ability to withstand hardship or adversity.

  2. The capacity to continue despite fatigue, stress, or suffering.

Conviction (noun):

  1. A firmly held belief or opinion.

  2. The quality of being unwavering in principles, even under pressure.

    Endurance without conviction is just survival.
    Conviction without endurance is just wishful thinking.


Together, they form resilience.

And resilience is what separates those who falter from those who forge ahead.

The Dichotomy of Endurance and Conviction

While endurance serves as the anchor, conviction serves as the compass.

Endurance keeps you grounded, preventing you from drifting aimlessly when conditions worsen.

And they will worsen.

Photo by Luana Seu

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I have lived through the highest highs followed by the lowest lows. Just when I thought I couldn’t sink any further, when circumstances couldn’t inflict more damage on an already fatigued soul, they did.

But endurance is silent persistence—the ability to withstand discomfort and difficulty without losing your footing. It’s the grip you hold on your purpose, on your faith, on what you’re building.

Conviction, however, gives you direction—a sense of purpose beyond the present moment. It is the force that ensures, once the storm passes, you are still moving toward your true north.

For some, convictions are shaped by family, morals, money, or the shifting ideologies of the digital age.

Now more than ever, we’re pushed toward standing for nothing, sometimes blissfully and intentionally ignoring that we’re falling for everything.

My convictions come from my belief in God, and that I will see the fulfillment of the dreams placed in my heart.

I believe my purpose will allow me to one day hear:

“Well done, thou good and faithful servant.”

Without endurance, you are swept away by uncertainty.
Without conviction, you are lost at sea—moving, but without direction.

You need both.

Staying the Course: Biblical Principles for Holding Fast

How do we apply this? How do we stay steady in storms, remain anchored in faith, and still press forward?

  1. Stand Firm—Do Not Be Moved
    📖 “Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you.” — 1 Corinthians 15:58

  2. Keep Going—Even When You’re Weary
    📖 “Let us not grow weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” — Galatians 6:9

  3. Anchor Yourself in Truth
    📖 “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.” — Hebrews 6:19

  4. Trust the Process—God is Working, Even in the Storm
    📖 “Being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion.” — Philippians 1:6

  5. Do Not Fear—The Storm Will Not Break You
    📖 “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.” — Isaiah 43:2

This final scripture resonates deeply—it’s the one tattooed on my chest.

Fall 2017

It’s the one that carried me through in Guyana, when delay felt like denial.

The one that steadied me through food insecurity, housing displacement, financial instability.

The one that whispered truth when it felt like the weight of the world was killing my dream, killing my light—killing me.

Holding Fast, Staying True

The greatest mistake we make is believing that difficulty is a sign to quit.

But as we know, pressure is privilege—not because struggle is the goal, but because endurance shapes who we become.

And besides—Jesus walked on the water.

So, before you go, ask yourself:

What are you gripping onto when the storms come?
What keeps you anchored when everything else shifts?
Where is your true north?

Find your anchor. Hold fast. Stay true.

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The Edge of Becoming

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Mountain Tops Are Small. And The Air Is Thin: Rule No.6