Hope: My Anchor

This past summer Brenda and I bought a 2 Person Double Inflatable Water Float with a cooler and cup holders so we could cool off in the lake together.  On our maiden voyage, we filled the cooler with ice and drinks, slathered 50 SPF sunscreen all over our white bodies, donned our hats and swimsuits, tied a rope to the float and the rocks on the shore, and kicked our way out as far as the rope would allow us.  We popped open our sparkling peach-pear La Croix and settled in for an hour of relaxation.  Sadly, within two minutes, we were being dashed upon the rocks on the shore.  The waves continued to push us in over and over again.  Within 10 minutes I was done.  We needed something to hold us secure.

The next day I drove down to Yacht Works in Sister Bay, Wisconsin, and bought a small anchor.  When I got home, I tied the anchor to the float with a strong piece of rope.  Once again we filled the cooler with drinks, put on our sunscreen, put our hats and suits on, tied the float to a tree on the shore, and kicked our way out as far as the rope would allow us.  We dropped the anchor and pulled it until it grabbed ahold of a big rock on the bottom of the lake.  And do you know what?  We didn’t move!  We were held secure by our newly purchased anchor.  To celebrate we popped open something a little stronger than a La Croix!  Maybe someday you might join us on the lake.

l love the idea of an anchor that holds us firm despite the waves that continue to try and push us up against the shore so we capsize or get crushed.  The anchor holds us no matter how huge or many the waves are.  In life, these waves are made up of loneliness, illness, fear of the unknown, unanswered prayers, broken relationships, crushed dreams, and on and on the waves come.  Without an anchor, these “waves” will flip us upside down, capsize our boats, and rob us of our joy.

Over the past three months, the waves of illness, isolation, and fear have relentlessly attempted to capsize my boat.  I have been hospitalized twice, spent a long evening in the ER, and spent countless hours praying the pain medicine would finally bring me comfort.  Without an anchor, I would have been in serious trouble.  I tied my boat to two things:

  1. The love of my beautiful wife, Brenda, and my family.
  2. My hope in a God who loves me and will never turn his back on me.

I love how the author of the book of Hebrews says,

“We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.”

What is it that you anchor your life to when the waves begin to push you into the shore?  Maybe your anchor will be something someone else can tie onto so they are not capsized.