I Have an Anchor

An Anchor When I’m Trembling

When the earth and all its people quake, it is I who hold its pillars firm.  Psalm 75:3 NIV

Google News is my home page.  When I set it, that was a great idea.  I was in Africa, after all, far from all other sources of news, and I enjoyed scanning the headlines when I logged on before I checked my e-mail.

But now, when I get online, makes me ill.  The news has moved from interesting to gruesome. Tragedy screams at me from local and international levels.  Beheadings.  Ebola. Babies are left in hot cars to die, while across the globe, radicals are kidnapping and torturing innocents. Russia. Iraq.  Earthquakes and floods and tornados.  I can’t get off the Google News page fast enough.  It makes me quake.  It makes me realize the entire world is quaking.

This world is all I know.  If it crumbles, then what?


God is the anchor even when his creation wavers, even when our sin has so entangled us that our nations are choking and dying and strangling each other – God holds firm.

This verse is drawn from a Psalm that assures us God will judge the wicked.  All those injustices blazoned across my computer screen have not escaped God’s notice.  He will – one day – set all to right.

And if wars come and wipe out my nation, if civilization as I know it turns into something I’d really rather not know – God will still be there, holding firm.

One day, Jesus will return.  One day, He’ll establish a new heaven and a new earth.   He is my anchor, not my government or my hometown or my planet. God is the one who holds the pillars firm.

I am truly on solid ground.

I Have an Anchor

I Have an Anchor: A Joint Post


I Have an Anchor – A Joint Post

We have this hope – like a sure and firm anchor of the soul – that enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain. Jesus has entered there on our behalf as a forerunner, because He has become a “high priest forever in the order of Melchizedek.” Hebrews 6:19

From Susan:

It was a room so holy it could only be entered once a year.  The high priest did so trembling, carrying blood from the animal he had sacrificed for his own sins and those of the people.  If he didn’t get it right, he’d be struck dead as he passed behind the curtain of the Holy of Holies, the place where God Himself dwelt.  So why did a mere man take the chance?

The answer is in Hebrews 9:7.  Inside the Holy of Holies, the high priest offered the blood “for the sins of the people committed in ignorance.”  So once a year, all their sins – not just the ones they could think of and offer a sacrifice to atone for – but all of them, were covered.

This is what Jesus did for me.  He covered all my sins, not just one day out of 365, but every day, for all of eternity.  And that hope is my anchor.  Storms of life may toss me, make me sea sick, fill my mouth and nose with salt water, but I know my sins are forgiven and a better life is waiting for me.  On calmer days, I may just be pushed by the tides of busyness, every-day stress and distractions, but even still my hope anchor holds firm.  None of it can move me from my center – my forgiveness, my sure hope of a better future.

From Jen:

People speak of hope as if it were a wish upon a star. A flimsy, far-off desire that is more impossible than probable. Heaven would be that, if it were not for this once-for-all sacrifice of Christ.

Biblical hope is not this fairy-may kind of wish. It is being sure of what is not seen because of the promise of God. This hope is sure. It is solid. This is the kind of hope that leaves all known comforts behind. The kind that counts everything else as loss in order to cling to its promise.

Hope in anything else may be like chasing rainbows, but hope in Christ? It is the anchor in life and in death. An anchor that, come storms and high seas, will not fail.