We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain.
Hebrews 6:19 (NIV)
It sounded like so much fun – a family kayaking adventure in Kauai. The brochure described paddling the calm, idyllic waters of the Hanalei River with occasional sea turtle sightings as we meander our way to a private beach for snorkeling.
My husband, seven-year-old son, and I arrived at the marina excited to embark on our adventure. As the tour guide was giving us the safety instructions, I realized my dilemma:
I can’t swim and I’ve never kayaked before.
With our family of three, we were given a single and a double kayak. The obvious decision was to put our seven-year-old son with my husband, and I would ride alone.
It’s fine, I convinced myself. I’ll be wearing a life jacket. How difficult can it be to paddle a kayak?
As we set out, I quickly realized there was a rhythm in paddling I was not getting. Our guide gave me a few tips at the beginning, but I struggled to keep my kayak facing the direction of the group.
As our group calmly made their way along the scenic river, I was alone, way in the back. Instead of paddling a straight path, I was making giant S’s, clamoring to stay with my family. Our tour guide came back several times to wait for me while letting the others go on ahead. After I caught up a little, he zipped forward to lead the group again.
This embarrassing routine continued all along the river route.
Then I saw it. Panic surged as I observed rougher waters ahead where the river emptied into the ocean. Although it was just a short paddle to a private beach, I was still unable to control the direction of my kayak. I had visions of drifting out to sea.
Sometimes, life feels that way. No matter how hard we try, we can’t seem to make progress. We work harder, but the bills keep climbing. We promise ourselves we’re not going to yell at our kids today, but that strong-willed child has a way of making us want to pull our hair out. We try to eat healthier to finally lose the baby weight, but after a work deadline, we find ourselves sitting in a drive-thru for the second night in a week.
Life can feel like we are just drifting by the waves of our circumstances, overwhelmed and alone.
As I watched my group calmly paddle into the waves making their way to the sandy shores, I thrashed even harder trying to catch up to them.
After what felt like an eternity, I heard a familiar voice, “It’s okay. I’m going to hook your boat to mine.”
It was our sweet tour guide.
I was so relieved I didn’t have to paddle anymore. Even as we ventured into the waves, I felt safe and secure because my kayak was firmly anchored to his.
The storms of life can be overpowering if our souls are not securely anchored. We can strive to paddle the course of our lives on our own effort, or we can allow Jesus to be the anchor of our souls. When we are not anchored to Jesus, we will find ourselves drifting in a sea of doubt, a sea of unforgiveness, a sea of bitterness, and we will become so weary.
Anchored to His truth, He makes my path straight.
Anchored to His promises, I am firm and secure, even in rough waters.
Anchored to Jesus, I will not drown in despair or distress.
I hold on to His hope for His anchor is my assurance.
We can strive to paddle the course of our lives on our own effort, or we can allow Jesus to be the anchor of our souls. -@MeiLingAu: Click To Tweet