Do the Meek inherit anything?

I saw this article and I thought it was an interesting article. 

Who is more noble in the grand scheme of life, he who is incapable of violence, or he who is capable, but abstains? If you are too weak to do harm, is your abstention from it attributable to the goodness within you?
How many times have you heard the phrase “The meek shall inherit the Earth”? More often than not, the phrase is misunderstood by those who use it. In its modern usage, it’s designed as some sort of chastisement against men of action, masculinity, and those who dare. Stemming from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, many have since taken the meaning of the word ‘meek’ to indicate the weak, or otherwise frail, and that the Earth is due to them as some sort of compensation for their trials and tribulations of our current age. Now, the phrase is a celebration of weakness, cowardice, and submission.
In reality, the word meek does not reflect the true intent or definition that it once did. From the original Greek translation, praus was not a word referring to the weak, but instead referred to one who expressed control or power without undue harshness. In the original Greek, the broken horse was referred to as the original praus. This mass of bone and muscle was controlled by light pressure from the knee, or a twist of a bridle, and was not weak, it was control. Meekness is, at its true root, control over power.

The history of our intellectual-class and the modern usage of the phrase, time and time again, reveals how useful the lie of meekness has been to those who still espouse it. Jordan Peterson, despite his controversial views on other topics, was right in pointing this out. In Jordan Peterson’s explanation, meek referred to a man with a sword and the training to use it when needed. Chögyam Trungpa expounded upon meekness further in his book Shambhala, describing that meekness is one of the essential faces of the warrior, “The warrior of meek: kind and mercy to others.”
In all cases, control is the root of meekness, not weakness. A strong man who is capable of violence and knows the power of his own hands, but sheathes his weapons when they are not needed, is in control of himself. Nietzsche himself commented that most cowards are moral, not because they are moral at their root, but because they use it as a disguise to hide their weakness. Therefore, their benevolence is less a product of their moral integrity, but their inability to harm in the first place. The blessed meek in the Sermon on the Mount were not flabby soyboys crying about chads taking their women or a poltroon justifying that he’ll “be the bigger man” when he should be defending his woman against slander. Meekness is control, not wimpish inaction.
Weak people are rightly lower in naturally ordered hierarchies, especially when they have no other redeemable qualities to raise their status. Claiming that “The meek shall inherit the Earth” is merely the peacocks tail for these frail creatures who cannot compare to the hawks or eagles above them. This is not to say that strength is the only value, or that the mighty should rule, but you must have some sort of strength or value. Strength is not limited to the physical. We often see that idiots are the first to flap their gums about topics in which they believe they’ve learned. Meanwhile, real experts are controlled and measured when they reveal the depths of their understanding. Control is a value on parity with strength and intelligence.
Cultivate strength and control in everything you do. And, become someone who deserves their inheritance due to the blessed meek.