Mental Toughness
- Jones Abane
- Oct 16
- 3 min read
Life is never kind to the fragile. The world will not stop spinning because you’re not yet strong.” That’s not cruel, it’s reality.
Whether professionally, academically, or in daily life, weakness isn’t just inconvenient; it’s exploited. Why must you develop mental toughness?
Because the real battles are fought and won in the mind. It is in the mind that offense grows.
You are either strategizing your growth or spending your energy justifying and explaining every step to yourself. There’s no middle ground.
One path leads forward with intention and discipline. The other keeps you circling the same mountain, rehearsing your reasons, defending your delays, and rationalizing your stagnation.
It is in the mind, my friend, that discouragement festers and bitterness takes root. It is in the mind that resentment becomes a refuge.
It is in the mind that pain is rehearsed and withdrawal is justified. My friend, people will talk you down. They’ll badmouth you.
They’ll criticize the very work you’ve poured your life into. They’ll say, “Even if a fox climbed on it, it would collapse” (Nehemiah 4:3).
And those words, those doubts, can take a toll on your mind. And guess what? “If you faint in the day of adversity,” Proverbs says, “your strength is small.”
But fainting here is not the collapse of the body; it’s the collapse of the mind. It’s when your thoughts give way under pressure.
When your convictions are drowned out by criticism. When your inner strength is eroded by offense, fear, and fatigue.
It is in the mind that you go down on your knees to pray. And yet, instead of laying hold of the promises of God, your thoughts begin to wander, toward your problems, toward past offenses, toward imagined retaliations.
You enter the place of prayer seeking strength, but you leave not empowered, but drained, exhausted by the weight of your own thoughts.
This is the silent war many believers face. The battlefield is not just spiritual; it is mental. Prayer becomes a place of mental wrestling rather than spiritual renewal when the mind is not disciplined.
Instead of communion, it becomes a courtroom of unresolved emotions and internal debates.
Even among the sons and daughters of Zion, the rush for survival can trample the feebleminded.
Let me paint a picture of how ruthless the world can be, even within the household of faith. Remember the general who doubted Elisha’s prophecy?
He was trampled, not by sinners, but by Israelites. Why? Because they were desperate to survive.
Yes, the prophecy said he would see the food but not taste it. But it didn’t say he would be trampled.
That part was human carelessness born of desperation. The people were hungry. They rushed. And in that stampede, the general died.
What am I saying? People are not always malicious, but they can be careless and desperate. They are hungry for progress, for provision, for recognition.
And in that hunger, they may not notice who they’re stepping over. They may not pause to consider your fragility, your process, your pain.
And if your mind is not fortified, you won’t be crushed by enemies; you’ll be crushed by the very people you thought would understand.
That’s why you must be strong, not just in spirit, but in thought. Because the world won’t slow down for your healing. It won’t pause for your recovery.
You must rise, renew your mind, and walk forward with resilience. If you must pray, then pray. Nehemiah prayed, “O Lord, strengthen my hands.” You too can pray, “O Lord, strengthen my mind.”
Let every weakness be removed. Every fear of man. Every trace of cowardice. Every tendency to crumble under the slightest criticism or disapproval.
Let it be uprooted. And after that prayer, my friend woke up. Shake off the dust. March forward. Develop your mind to be courageous.
Nehemiah was a governor. He had men. He had resources. He had the king’s support. But even with all that, he still needed the Lord to strengthen him.
Because true strength is not in titles or tools, it’s in the mind that refuses to faint.


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