on friday night, i went to a senior worship project and heard all the things my heart needed to hear. i swore that one day i would be a normal person who goes to these things and doesn’t cry the entire time. this was just not that day. in the moments leading up to that project, i felt shaken, rocked, maybe a little lost at sea. of course, this night was all about the anchor that holds. it was one of those times where god was so clearly speaking into the broken parts of me, speaking over me the truths i had so quickly forgotten. it was so unmistakably loud.
in every imaginable way, i’ve been tossed, with just enough time between waves to catch my breath. thrown by storms big and small. swimming and swimming and swimming. more than ever before, i have learned to cling tightly to the anchor that is jesus. to throw myself up against the rock that will not move. i’m learning and re-learning that god doesn’t always calm the storm, stop the waves, slow the current. his love doesn’t protect us from the rocking and shifting and shaking, but the anchor holds. the anchor holds just like he said it would and just like we hoped. we are shaken and tossed, but we will not drown. thrown around, but never lost at sea.
jesus holds like we always hoped he would. he really does. he bids us, “turn your eyes” and promises he’ll never leave. not when we’re hurt or terrified, confused, betrayed, under-qualified or over-confident. he’s there, and he’s doing a good thing. in this season of wide-open, of in-between and of everything unexpected, he’s here. and even if nothing else is sure, that’s enough. even if the waves never settle, the anchor still holds. with every storm and changing tide, our god is near. our hope is sure. our hearts have something to hold on to. always.