Troubling Doubts, and the Anchor that Holds Within the Veil

a-storm-breaking-away-ship-at-anchor-on-a-lee-shore

Are you deeply troubled with your own doubts?

Are things getting bad? And are you coming to the conclusion that God is utterly rejecting you? Do you not understand that our Heavenly Father knows the difference between the immature foolishness of a child and the stubborn wickedness of a rebel? Don’t you think that he knows what is in your heart? And don’t you think he knows that you are his child?

You are like a ship that is well anchored, and though the tide is rushing in, and though circumstances, events, and maybe even foolish decisions is making your life roll from side to side so that you find yourself staggering just to stand, yet your life is not loosed from its moorings, Christ has not let go of you, and you, dear Christian, are not in any danger.

Your faith, halting, stumbling and tired as it may be, is fixed on Christ. And Christ is that great anchor which holds your faith… and that means that He indeed holds you.

So, are you are tossed about a little?

Just rest assured, you are not going to suffer shipwreck because of your doubts…. No! Not even for your sins. But you are going to suffer much sea-sickness because of your folly. Expect it!

How can I be so assured of this?

Because Jesus said, All that the Father gives me shall come to me; and him that comes to me I will in no wise cast out. –John 6:37

Shaken up a little bit? Got some sea-sickness? Welcome to the club. Just remember, Christ has got your anchor, and it doesn’t get any safer than that.

We have an anchor that keeps the soul
Stedfast and sure while the billows roll,
Fastened to the Rock which cannot move,
Grounded firm and deep in the Savior’s love.

It is safely moored, ’twill the storm withstand,
For ’tis well secured by the Savior’s hand;
And the cables passed from His heart to mine,
Can defy the blast, through strength divine.

It will firmly hold in the straits of fear,
When the breakers have told the reef is near;
Though the tempest rave and the wild winds blow,
Not an angry wave shall our bark o’erflow.

It will surely hold in the floods of death,
When the waters cold chill our latest breath;
On the rising tide it can never fail,
While our hopes abide within the veil.