Faith Needs an Anchor
What’s up with you, Buttercup! Why don’t you come on over here in the shade by these red rose bushes just off the front porch? We can sit a spell ‘a-fore that lil’ ol’ jittery chipmunk comes back into the yard and decides you look like somebody who might give him a some of your peanuts. We are about to amble on into a truth sturdier than your grandpa’s rocking chair and twice as steady. Hebrews 2:1 tells us, “Therefore we must give the more earnest heed to the things we have heard, lest we drift away.” That is the Lord’s gentle way of sayin’, “Pay attention, friend, or you will slide off course faster than a greased hog at a county fair.”
You ever watch a shooting star streak across the sky? Beautiful for us, terrible for the poor space rock. It gets pulled in by gravity, heats up, and burns out like a firecracker that fizzled out way too soon. That’s exactly what sin does. The world, the flesh, and the devil tug at us like a stubborn mule pullin’ a plow in the wrong direction. If we are not careful, we drift. Not all at once. Just a little here, a little there, like a rowboat tied with a loose knot that slowly turns loose and slips farther away from the dock.
Henry B. Carrington once said “there is a subtle pull in the drift of fashion and habit that carries away anyone not anchored to a Bible conscience”. He was right. Skippin’ church starts with one innocent Sunday. Then another. Then before you know it, you are floatin’ farther than a lost canoe on a foggy river. Sin’s pull is strong, and the world’s gravity is no joke.
But Hebrews 2:3 reminds us that our salvation is too great to neglect. And Hebrews 2:9 points us back to Jesus, who was made lower than the angels and tasted death for everyone. He is our anchor. He is our steady place. He is the One who keeps us from burnin’ up in the atmosphere of this wild world.
Father, help me stay anchored to You. Keep my heart steady, my mind focused, and my steps close to Your Word. Pull me back quickly when I drift and remind me daily of the greatness of my salvation. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Now, friend, as you tread the path that leads right back into your day like a determined lil’ raccoon draggin’ off a treasure he found behind the shed, remember that drifting is really easy. Staying anchored takes real intention. But Jesus is strong enough to hold you steady, wise enough to guide you, and loving enough to pull you back every single time. Stay close, stay watchful, and let Him keep you from burnin’ out like a lonely meteor in the night sky.
With joy,
Gwen
