My Anchor Holds

A woman sprints toward the United States embassy, a 100 yard dash of life or death!  Her Soviet pursuer lunges close behind, gaining speed.  At last he catches up, reaching for her shoulder, but the woman, spurred on by adrenaline, doesn't yield.  Instead she pushes her arms back, releasing both her jacket and the Soviet's grip, shouting out, "Open the gate!  I'm an American!  I'm an American!" Just in time, the gate opens and the woman slips through.  Safe!  Whew! 

Though I have not watched this movie in a very long time, the intense scene remains vivid in my mind.  And in recent days it has become very real for me.  While the accuser condemns and chases hard after me I sprint to the gate crying out, "I'm a child of God!  I'm covered by the blood!  I'm a citizen of heaven!"  The gate opens and clanks behind me, locked securely by Jesus Himself.  Safe! 

This is the anchor for my soul, that Jesus has gone before me, taken my shame upon Himself. (Heb. 6:19) Spit on, mocked, and beaten, and then falsely accused, he endured an unfair trial where He knew to defend himself would only fall on deaf ears.  And so He said nothing and died for my sins, in my place.  Now I stand secure in Him, where "there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus."  (Rom. 8:1) 





It's been a rough week and I'm trying to sort it all out.  When it seems that years of pouring out my life is still not enough, my soul weeps, losing its courage to move forward. 

Yet, I firmly believe that with every criticism, there is an element of truth, an area that God is bringing to my attention for change.  Instead of discouragement, I'm beginning to be energized, spurred on toward a precise focus with less distraction, a purging of my own insecurities and prideful ambitions.

I've always had a hard time understanding this phrase from the book of Hebrews, "we who have fled to take hold of the hope offered to us," because the word flee seems like I should be running away  from something, not toward  it. (Heb. 6:18)  But now I get it.  "Jesus, who went before us, has entered on our behalf.  He has become a high priest forever..." (Heb. 6:20)  This is why I run toward Him because it is my only safe place.  This is not a slow jog, but rather an all out sprint, my 100 yard dash.  My accuser is right.  Yes, I failed.  I let people down.  I have no excuses, only this.  Let him who is without sin cast the first stone . . .


because we are all in the same boat together, with Jesus, our only safe haven. 

Jesus is the one who holds us.  He alone keeps us from falling and I would hope that we could fight together against our common enemy rather than each other.  I earnestly pray that the love of our Savior would cause us to love what He loves. 

Despite seasons of sickness, boundaries of structure, or mistakes of its crew, staying aboard is still better than to abandon ship, for it is what God designed to accomplish His mission.

Storms are inevitable.  They will come, often causing some churning of the stomach.  God has not promised a life of ease. And these waters can be hard to navigate. Yet, in the midst of the storm we run, not away from each other, but in support of one another, toward our safe place, Jesus, our refuge.

I know a place, a wonderful place,
where accused and condemned
find mercy and grace,
where the wrongs we have done
and the wrongs done to us
are nailed there with Him
there at the cross.
 (lyrics by Guy Penrod)