Hebrews 6:19-20 Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and stedfast, and which entereth into that within the veil; Whither the forerunner is for us entered, even Jesus…
A few years ago, we went shark fishing. It was my dad, uncle, brother, and me. We were hoping to land some Mako sharks, which are good eating and fun to catch (they are known to put up a good fight). We took my uncle’s small, maybe 12-foot boat with a little motor you’d expect to see at Lake Havasu or the Colorado River—but not in the open ocean. We had predetermined to stay within the safety of the breakwater wall. But after an hour, and catching nothing but an eel (which looked like a sea snake) and a cold, my uncle decided we’d go out “just a little” past the breakwater. We were iffy on that one. It was nighttime, and it was dark. After much persuasion, we were convinced (kind of) that it was worth trying for the sharks on the other side of the breakwater. So we ventured out: four of us on a 12-foot boat, hoping to hook into a Mako.
As we fished, I noticed something. The breakwater was moving. It was drifting further away. It was starting to look smaller. No—it was WE who were drifting away. Finally, and to our relief, we dropped the anchor. We fished for a while. We got a couple bites, but no Mako sharks. So we decided to call it a night. But something precarious happened: the anchor was stuck. To the bottom of the ocean. Then, we tried starting the motor, and the motor wouldn’t start.
There we sat, no motor, and a stuck anchor. Then my uncle had an idea—let’s cut the anchor! Afterall, we can’t go anywhere while the anchor is stuck. My dad, brother, and I almost had a heart attack. In unison, we said something to the effect of, “We need the anchor!” If we cut that anchor without a working motor, we would really be out of options. We’d be drifting all night, at the mercy of the sea, with no anchor. I took my shoes off. I was about to take my jacket off, and in my mind began calculating the best angle to swim to the breakwater, hoping that there really were no Mako sharks around. I never appreciated the value of an anchor until that night. After what seemed like a hundred tries, the motor started. And since we’re reading this devotion, it’s evident that we lived to talk about it.
Recently, I was reading the book of Hebrews, and reminded that as Christians, we have an anchor. We need this anchor as we navigate the sea of life. This anchor will help when the storms come. This anchor will help when the waves get choppy. This anchor will help when we can’t see through the fog. This anchor helps so that we don’t drift. As a sailor gains comfort is a sure anchor, so we gain comfort in this anchor. The anchor provided to us is found in one word: hope. And we see from the passage that it is hope that Christ gave us when He saved us.
Ephesians 2:11-12 Wherefore remember… That at that time ye were without Christ… having no hope, and without God in the world:
Before Christ, we were hopeless. We were empty. We were searching. But Christ brought us hope! We the hope of Heaven. We have the hope of the joy set before us. We have the hope of eternal life. No matter what happens in this world, there’s a better one coming! The verses above show us that this hope is as firm and sure as the One Who sacrificed to give it to us: Jesus Christ.
When the trials of life come, remember our anchor. When the tempests arise, remember our anchor. When the waves beat against the ship, remember the anchor. We are not like we used to be. We have hope. We are not like the unsaved. We have hope. Today, I thank God for the anchor of hope that we have through Christ.
