Anchored

“A heavy object attached to a rope or chain, 

used to moor a vessel to the sea bottom.”

In its truest purpose, an anchor holds a boat or ship in place, keeping the vessel steady despite the currents of the waters in which it resides.  This is true in both the serene times, when the sun dances in diamond brilliance while the water beneath reflects the crystalline blue of the sky, as well as the turbulent times, when the heavens darken, the thunder rolls, the waves roil, and the lightning rents the clouds in a jagged radiance.  The purpose of an anchor is to hold the vessel fixed from the influences that might push it off its course.

How many times have the currents pushed us off course?  Pausing in contentment in where we are in our journeys, it might be weeks or months before we realize those gentle waves of satisfaction have pushed us miles from the original trajectory.  We don’t notice because the sun is all shine with nary a cloud in the sky, and it is the lightest of breezes that brushes our cheeks.  Or, conversely, we are focusing on bailing the brine that has washed over the hull, trying our best to simply stay afloat.  By the time the skies clear and we can catch our breath, the tempest has not only thrown us miles off course but we struggle simply to find our bearings.

Something happens, though, when we are anchored.  When we have both felt loved and given love, when we have soul-searched and committed to who we want to be, we develop one.  Some anchors may hold more strongly than others, depending on the strength of love we’ve experienced, and some may move some when a truly powerful typhoon hits, but once we have them, these anchors give us the stability we need so when we do get jostled about by life’s storms or distracted by the sunlight, we have a connection to where we want to be.  

There are many days when I sit back and try to view the world objectively, and on those days, more often than not, I am frustrated and saddened by it.  I see the way we are treating each other, the callousness, the disregard, the selfishness, and sometimes the brutality.  To be clear, I am not just talking about the nightly news or reading through the Associate Press app.  I am talking about what I see first-hand in the world, whether it be between strangers or between people I know.  

It occurs to me that much of this happens because so many of us are not anchored, in love or faith or hope.  They disregard others: they lack the compassion and empathy that can hold us steady.  They care only about their own satisfaction and care nothing for those who might be hurt in the process; they have no mooring on which to hold.  These aren’t always people who have had the awful childhood or traumatic events that have interrupted or inhibited the forming anchor.  Sometimes, these are the people who choose to cut loose from the weight.  

This makes me wonder, though, as more and more people choose to do just that.  If we are severed from that which braces us, I see more and more wreckage drifting to the bottom of the sea because it is getting more and more crowded out there, crowded with those careening out of control both by choice and by circumstance.  If you think the damage will only be to those ships, you’re wrong.  As the wreckage decays, the toxins will continue to seep out for generations to come.

I am thankful for those who anchor me; I hope and pray I provide that stability and security for you as well.

Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and stedfast, and which entereth into that within the veil;  ~ Hebrews 6:19