Anchored

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We are in this world as a ship at sea, tossed up and down, and in danger of being cast away. We need an anchor to keep us sure and steady. Gospel hope is our anchor in the storms of this world.

~ Matthew Henry

“Hey, look mom. I’m anchored.”

Chase’s smiling face bobbed just above the shimmering, nearly-clear Gulf a few feet away. One of his shoulders plunged downward, obscured by the moving water. The rest of his body floated mostly in place, tossed by the tide but indeed anchored to that particular spot at Fort Desoto Park’s North Beach.

I, on the other hand, struggled to stay put as the waves pressed into me again and again, forcing me with gentle insistence toward shore.

We were spending a couple hours with my mom and nephew on a scalding summer day; Cody was focused on fishing a large inlet between the beach and the trees lining the shore, while Cole’s arms were shoved elbow-deep into the sand digging out a large letter ‘E’ on the shoreline.

In the water next to me, Chase floated securely, each incoming wave increasing the confident smile on his face.

In the past couple of years, eight-year-old Chase has turned into a full-fledged water boy. He adores diving under the surface in search of shiny fish and seashells. Over and over again Chase rises then falls under the water until I have to reapply sunscreen and give him the five minute warning for lunch or time to go.

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This particular day Chase and I were floating about twenty yards from where water lapped against sand. Overhead, storm clouds threatened, distant thunder rumbling an unwelcome hello. I glanced at the lifeguard up in his chair, glad they were on guard and wondering if I could actually fry an egg on the sand in this heat.

July is brutal in Florida. UV rays and humidity compete to keep tourists and residents in the Gulf waters or inside air conditioned buildings.

Chase stood up in the water suddenly, his hand gripping a large plastic sand scooper Cole had been looking for a few minutes ago. He held the orange scoop aloft like it was a grand prize before dropping into the water again and shoving the beach tool back into the squishy sand caressing my toes.

The scoop dug in, anchoring him in place and reminding me that even amidst the waves of life and the constant battlement from unseen forces there is a Way. A Way to hold on to, a Truth to anchor our soul. Despite physical ailments, financial problems, family issues, relationship trials, despite dreams delayed and love lost, there is hope.

Jesus.

“This hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, and which enters the Presence behind the veil, where the forerunner has entered for us, even Jesus…” ~ Hebrews 6:19 & 20

When you’re at life’s battered bottom, scraping against sharp shells and unable to get a breath, there’s an anchor to cling to.  An Anchor whose compassions fail not and daily bring new joy and mercy to keep us afloat. There is eternal life through faith in Jesus and a God whose promises are unbreakable, unshakeable, unstoppable. Unsinkable.

“Therefore with joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation.” ~ Isaiah 12:3

 

 

 

 

 

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