Do you remember a time when you entered a new phase in life? Suddenly you felt like you were living on another planet? I remember bringing my second son home from the hospital on New Year’s Eve Day, happy to be home but as my twenty-two month buzzed around me, oblivious to the new baby, I wondered where I’d left my sanity and what planet was I on?
I love my boys but the reality was that my world had changed drastically since I’d left my house two days earlier. The old one had been busy but this one felt chaotic and I could feel resistance rising up in me. Adapting to change wasn’t, and still isn’t, my specialty.
Have you ever had a similar experience?
It happens over and over in life, doesn’t it? Seasons change. Kids grow up. We have losses and gains. Our family is in the midst of big changes in almost everyone’s lives. What planet did I just land on? It’s no longer familiar and I feel resistance rising. Fear grips my heart. The unknown taunts me. Excitement fills me as the promise of new things take hold. It’s confusing, isn’t it?
How do we find our legs in this gravity-less new world?
An anchor. We need an anchor to hold us true and steady. Honestly, I don’t think I need one. I can stay on course, I tell myself, only to discover I’ve drifted. The longer we let ourselves wander, the harder it is to get back.
An anchor will hold us. We don’t have to work to stay in place. We are tethered. If we spin off into space, that cord will draw us back.
That’s who Jesus is. He’s our anchor. If we let him anchor us, the world doesn’t stop spinning by but we do. We are held fast in the chaos.
He also gives us room to roam but if we get too far he gives us a tug, reminding us he is there.
It’s our choice whether we decide to hold to him, our anchor, or cut him loose. I’m finding for myself, that as the world gets crazier, an anchor is a necessity. I am not reliable or consistent enough to keep myself firm but God is.
Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Heb 11:1