Hope our Anchor
Just before I decided to sit and write this, the tissue beside me lies sodden with the tears that have flowed this morning. Sometimes I just long for those big arms of James (my husband who passed away last year) to envelop me and tell me everything is going to be okay. The way he used to just take charge and lift my spirits with his crazy antics, determined positive attitude and faith. But he’s not here, and so I am forced to come before the only giver of hope I know, who I can’t see or feel, but trust that through my tears He hears my cry, and wait until I feel His peace calm my pain. It’s not the big arms in the physical that I can feel squeezing me, or the big hand I would feel reassuring me when I needed it, but it’s all I’ve got, so I hold onto it — in a lot of ways wishing I could physically feel it!
Entering into a new year has been tough for me. For most it is the chance to start again, wipe the slate clean and make new resolutions with fresh hope for the year ahead. For me 2017 ended with the death of a close family friend, an then my father, feeling really run down, and coming back from a holiday with family to an empty house and severe jet lag. Despite all that I determined to see it as a fresh start for Chloe and I, yet the heaviness of the worst year of my life has clung to my heart. We took communion together, listened to worship together and prayed for a year of restoration and renewal despite how we may feel. Yet I have been seeking God and crying out for new fresh hope, direction, faith and passion to be restored every day since.
I then had to make a video for my dad’s memorial, and the pain once again pulled on my heart, and brought up feelings of loss and lonliness again. Seeing pictures of happy families broadcast over most adverts, Facebook, and in our every day lives is a constant reminder that we no longer have our husband, dad and grandad. So honestly, no, I don’t wake up at the moment excited about each new day or the new year, within me is more of a desperate cry for mercy and grace, and for God to restore my passion, hope and faith for the new year like my life depends on it.
For some perhaps they want me to be over the worst of my grief, but for some reason after the six month mark it reached a whole new level of painful. Sorry, but this is the ugly face of grief; it’s unpredictable and does what it wants to. It’s also no repector of persons, whether you’re mature and have it all together, grief is a leveller if that’s a word, no matter who you are! There seems to be no rhyme or reason to it, no particular pattern, it just comes and goes as it well pleases. For someone who would like to plan, and control the length and scale of it — well I just can’t, so I’ve stopped trying! There’s no twelve step program or plan to overcome grief, there’s no formula that will equate to feeling less, unless you choose to numb it. So I just dive into it (when appropriate), with counselling, and hope by riding it out, it will one day fade.
I was reading Hebrews the other day, and the word ‘Anchor’ stood out to me, let me share the scripture and then I’ll explain:
“15 So Abraham waited patiently in faith and succeeded in seeing the promise fulfilled. 16 It is very common for people to swear an oath by something greater than themselves, for the oath will confirm their statements and end all dispute. So in the same way, God wanted to end all doubt and confirm it even more forcefully to those who would inherit his promises. His purpose was unchangeable, so God added his vow to the promise. So it is impossible for God to lie for we know that his promise and his vow will never change!
And now we have run into his heart to hide ourselves in his faithfulness. This is where we find his strength and comfort, for he empowers us to seize what has already been established ahead of time — an unshakeable hope! We have this certain hope like a strong, unbreakable anchor holding our souls to God himself. Our anchor of hope is fastened to the mercy seat which sits in the heavenly realm beyond the sacred threshold,20 and where Jesus, our forerunner, has gone in before us. He is now and forever our royal Priest like Melchizedek.” Hebrews 6 v 15–20
So how can I be encouraged in times when I feel as if the storms of life are overwhelming me, where my boat has been so tossed and thrown about that I feel I’m in danger of shipwreck? How do I receive hope when waves of suffering wash over me, threatening to drown me in anguish?
The answer for me lies in me having a beacon of hope, a lifeline. If I could just see a vision of good coming my way, like land in a storm that would keep me going! So the word that stood out to me was ‘anchor of hope.’
Why… well because when there used to be a physical hand that would take mine and pray with me when things were tough, that would bring reassurance that I was not physically alone, but also spiritually held, deep down I knew we would make it together with God’s help. Now I don’t have that physical hand, I take both hands and hold onto the only thing that can steady me. A promise that holds out a hand to us that something good will happen in our future.
A. M. Stibbs offers this commentary on this ‘Anchor of Hope’:
“An anchor provides a peculiarly appropriate illustration. It was a recognized symbol of hope. It suggests a confidence to turn to and to lay hold of, a confidence which will hold fast and never fail because it enters into the unseen depths, the holiest of all, or inner shrine. Also, this line of thought brings back the minds of the readers to Jesus and to His high-priestly office after the order of Melchizedek, the great theme which the writer has already indicated his eagerness to expound. Jesus offers us new hope because He has entered the innermost sanctuary not only on our behalf, but also as a forerunner, opening the way for us to follow Him and thus enabling us to draw near to God. Also, like an anchor, He offers us a sure and an abiding confidence because in the innermost sanctuary of God’s presence He abides, or remains enthroned, in contrast to the Levitical high priest who came out and was removed by death. So He is a high priest for ever.”
Some people have a reason to hope; at other times (even without grounds to do so), people hope against hope, because to face life without hope is too crushing. Hope always carries strong feelings — whether life is easy or hard.
When James was really bad, God led me to do a study on hope, it’s a theme too big to cover here but it runs throughout the Bible. So it must be a vital ingredient to life!! In contrast to other hopes like having a great holiday, or getting that job, the hope in the Bible describes it as a sure and certain thing, like an anchor that won’t fail, but fulfill its purpose by being a steadying force.
One of the words for hope in the Old Testament is yāḥal: the description is not a pacifying wish of the imagination which drowns out troubles, nor is it uncertain, but rather yāḥal “hope” is the solid ground of expectation for the righteous. As such it is directed towards God, with Jesus Christ is the prevailing theme.
So for those of us who are suffering, struggling, fighting that ugly pain or grief monster, it’s like a fresh drink of water to read that there IS actually somewhat of a formula, it may not be instant like a chemical reaction, but it resembles a formula: A.) hold onto hope with with faith in Jesus as our anchor + B.) remember His faithfulness in the past with thankfulness = HOPE. It requires effort, it requires going against everything that you feel or may think, it’s holding onto it as if our life depends on it, just as men sailing the stormy seas hold onto their anchor as their last resort to save them. Perhaps even throw in a bit of worship with that thankfulness, even though it goes against how we feel….. OH if only it was an actual chemical/visible formula with instant results!!!
“Therefore, prepare your minds for action, keep sober in spirit, fix your hope completely on the grace to be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ. . . who through Him are believers in God, who raised Him from the dead and gave Him glory, so that your faith and hope are in God.” 1 Peter 1:3, 13, 21
I found this quote from John Owen:
“Fallen, sinful man stands in need of the utmost encouragement that divine condescension can extend unto, to prevail with him to receive and lay hold of the promise of grace and mercy by Jesus Christ. There is nothing that we are so prone unto, as to distrust the promises of God; nothing that we are with more difficulty won over unto, than to mix them with faith.
. . . “comfort” or “consolation” is the most usual signification of the word [encouragement] in the New Testament…This is that which relieves our souls against all fears, doubts, and troubles; for it either obviates and prevents them, or it outbalanceth them, and bears up our souls against them. For comfort is the relief of the mind, whatever it be, against sorrow and trouble.
And this consolation which God intends and designs for believers is . . . “strong,” “powerful,” “prevalent.” Strong so as to be prevalent against opposition, is that which is intended I. . . a strong tower, an impregnable fortress, a munition of rocks. .
And what is it that is within this veil? Not an ark and a mercy-seat, not tables of stone and cherubim, the work of men’s hands; but the things signified by them; — God himself on a throne of grace, and the Lord Christ, as the high priest of the church, standing at his right hand; God the Father as the author of the promise of grace, Christ as the purchaser of all mercy, the counsel of peace being between them both. Here hope fixeth itself, to hold the soul steadfast in all the storms and tempests that may befall it.”
When I feel the full weight of what I have to carry with supporting Chloe and I alone, the feeling of life without James in it, the fact that we have no family around us, that the house doesn’t feel the same without him, that he will never take my hand again, that I will never feel his embrace again until I get to Heaven, I’ll be honest it does overwhelm me, and it feels exactly like being lost at sea, and all around me is big scary waves. There is the tendency to distrust God, to feel sorry for myself and ask why me? Why us? Will these storms ever subside? Will I ever feel normal again, even feel happy and content? That’s when my faith has to kick in, because to give in to the darkness that tries to come knocking at my door every day would lead to further pain and misery. Just like the disciples when the storm they were in looked like it would overtake them, yes I would probably wake up Jesus too instead of sleeping next to him and not worrying!! I can see just as Jesus was sleeping, He’s unfazed by the storm, because He knows the future. So even though it would have been more full of faith to just go lie down next to him and take a nap, I’m sure in His grace He doesn’t mind us crying out (even begging) for Him to be our anchor! At least then we aren’t looking at the storm, but looking to Him as our hope.
Looking up the Greek term used for anchor this is what I found:
Every ship had several anchors; the largest, corresponding to our sheet anchor, was used only in extreme danger, and was hence peculiarly termed ἱερά [sacred] or sacra, whence the proverb sacram anchram solvere, as flying to the last refuge. Falconer’s New Universal Dictionary of the Marine, 1815 edition, stated the sheet anchor is:
. . . the largest and strongest [anchor], being that which the seamen call their last hope, and never to be used but in great extremity.
You and I both need to know how strong God’s grip is on us, so knowing Jesus is that anchor, we can hold fast and know he has a future fo us that He can see, and that He won’t let us go.
“Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For we do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who has been tempted in all things as we are, yet without sin. Therefore let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”
Hebrews 4:14–16
So though the tears may still flow, though I am weary of the struggle and pain, I’ll just reach out empty handed and hold onto the only hope I know — Jesus Christ, and pray with faith that this storm will pass until the anchor is lifted up (still there) again so I can sail with a clear view of what future lies ahead for us (I certainly wouldn’t mind docking and feeling some land again!)
