1 My soul in sad exile was out on life’s sea, So burdened with sin, and distressed, Till I heard a sweet voice saying, “Make Me your choice,” And I entered the haven of rest.
Refrain: I’ve anchored my soul in the haven of rest, I’ll sail the wide seas no more; The tempest may sweep o’er the wild stormy deep, In Jesus I’m safe evermore.
2 I yielded myself to His tender embrace, And faith taking hold of the word, My fetters fell off, and I anchored my soul: The haven of rest is my Lord. [Refrain]
3 The song of my soul, since the Lord made me whole, Has been the old story so blessed, Of Jesus who’ll save whosoever will have A home in the haven of rest. [Refrain]
4 How precious the thought that we all may recline, Like John, the beloved and blessed, On Jesus’ strong arm, where no tempest can harm, Secure in the haven of rest. [Refrain]
5 Oh, come to the Savior, He patiently waits To save by His power divine; Come, anchor your soul in the haven of rest, And say, “My Beloved is mine.” [Refrain]
“The Haven of Rest” (hymn) by H.L. Gilmour (1885)
I grew up with this hymn in church, and it always made me think of my grandfather, who had been in the Navy. He didn’t speak much of his time at sea. He wasn’t a great ocean sailor– he preferred lakes and small rowboats to the vast ships on which he had travelled. But he was a good one for storms. He seemed fearless and confident in any weather– blizzards, tornadoes, sleet or hail– and it helped everyone around him find hope and confidence, too.
We normally don’t think of rest when we think of storms, but there is one great story in the Gospels about Jesus being caught in a storm on the Sea of Galilee. (See Mark 35-41) There he was, in the back of the tossing boat– asleep! The disciples, screaming in panic, woke Him up. “We’re all going to die! How can you be sleeping? DO something!”
Jesus calmly gets up and rebukes the wind and waves and then chides the disciples for their lack of faith. Suddenly, the frightened disciples are more “afraid” of Jesus, who controls the waves, than they are of the recent (but now powerless) storm. The storm caused panic and restlessness, but Jesus caused a deep and penetrating awe. And part of the lesson of this story is that Jesus “did” nothing. While the disciples were bailing out water, frantically rowing and fighting the storm, Jesus simply spoke, “Peace. Be Still.”
Resting and “doing” are usually at odds with each other. We cannot make a situation restful by doing and fretting. We must be still and trust the One who controls the wind and the waves and all the circumstances of our lives. And that trust doesn’t come through our efforts or our convictions. It comes as we let go of our fears and expectations, our need to see the road ahead or the blue sky above. But while we cannot “do” our way to safety and rest, we can make sure we are anchored.
The Bible (especially in the New Testament) uses a lot of maritime and water imagery. Boats, seas, floods, rivers, fishing nets, storms, shipwrecks, journeys, and anchors. Anchors also feature in a lot of old hymns. Anchors are essential in sea travel. They keep the boat or ship from being swept by the wind and waves– either swept into rocks and dangerous coastal waters or swept away from safe harbors. An anchor is also essential for our soul– to keep it from being swept up in dangerous deceptions, emotional storms, and rocky theology.
I have three thoughts about anchors today:
You can’t ignore, forget, or neglect an anchor until you “need” it. An anchor on land, in storage, or unused, can do you no good. You must prepare before the storm hits. In the Christian walk, we must be faithful in the “easy” times if we want to rest in faith in the difficult times. Faith is a muscle that must be exercised. Hope is “built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness”– it doesn’t just appear at the last moment.
You can’t see the anchor when it is in use. When you drop anchor, you will feel it take hold– eventually. In life, we cannot always “see” God at work. But we can look back and see what He’s already done. And we can trust in His presence and power– even when the storm continues to rage, and the waves beat against the ship.
An anchor comes with you wherever you go, but it doesn’t keep you confined or isolated. The anchor works by being tied to a rope or cable so the boat or ship can still move or drift in different waters. Sometimes, the anchor needs a longer rope or cable to reach the bottom. But too much rope, and the ship will drift back into danger. Jesus offers us freedom from sin and death. He does not promise that we will never have rough seas, or difficult journeys. He does tell us to GO– into all the world. If we never leave the dock, we will never use the anchor. But we do NOT have to travel alone and hopeless.
I have anchored my Soul on Christ, the Solid Rock. I pursue prayer (and Bible study and fellowship with other believers) as part of that anchoring. My faith and hope are built on that solid foundation– staying strong despite the circumstances that batter and buffet when the storms come. I can’t “see” the way ahead; I can’t always see Christ working in and through the difficulties as I face them. But I can see what He’s done in the past, and I have His promise that He has overcome the world and its circumstances. And I know that Christ is always with me– His presence is a constant, and His Holy Spirit guides me as I travel through life. As another great hymn states, “My anchor holds within the veil”–Jesus is sitting at the right hand of the Father in the Holiest of Holies, holding my soul for all eternity. And I can rest on that truth, “evermore.” I hope if you are reading this that you have found rest and hope as well!
(Note: This is a post from a couple of years ago…)
My husband and I like to go fishing. We have a small boat, and we take it out on a local lake, and spend many happy hours enjoying nature and casting about for fish. One piece of equipment we keep on the boat is an anchor. It’s a small anchor (for a small boat), but it is heavy and solid. The anchor stays within the boat while we travel, but once we’ve found the spot where we want to fish, out it comes. We “drop anchor”, and tie off the rope. The anchor sinks to the lake bed, where it digs in and holds the boat, keeping it from drifting with the water and the wind. The boat still moves a bit, but the anchor and the rope ensure that the boat will stay close to the spot where the anchor lies.
On calm days, it may seem as if the anchor is hardly necessary. The lake is still, and the boat doesn’t seem to drift at all. On windy days, the boat will be driven by the waves, unless the anchor is dropped and holds firm. But the waves still churn and batter against the sides.
The author of Hebrews compares the hope we have in Christ to an anchor. ” We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.” (Hebrews 6:19a NIV) And as I thought of that, I was reminded of some key things about Hope (and its sister, Faith):
An anchor does no good unless it is IN the boat every time we leave shore. I have seen several anchors on display– in parks or at ports–huge and imposing. But they are useless to any vehicle out in the water. Similarly, we have to have the Hope of Christ IN US–we cannot “borrow” someone else’s hope or faith in moments of testing and suffering. We cannot leave our hope in the boathouse, or hang it up on display on shore, and assume that the waters will stay calm, or that our boat cannot drift.
An anchor is also useless unless there is a rope or chain or line attaching it to the boat. If I say that my Hope is in Christ, but I’m not in relationship WITH Him, the Anchor will still drop and hold, but my boat will be at the mercy of the waves and wind. If I know “about” God, but I have never spent time getting to “know” God, whatever hope I have will be detached and of little use.
An anchor is heavy. It is bulky. It sinks deep and isn’t easy to reposition. That’s how our Faith is meant to be. True faith isn’t lightweight, or convenient, or “cute.” Hope isn’t a balloon or a kite or a parachute. What will keep us from drifting in good times or bad is a faith that is heavy and unshakeable. And our Hope is not airy and wishful, based on wisps and popular philosophy; it is based on God’s eternal nature, and His enduring Word.
An anchor, while important, doesn’t make the boat move. Faith and Hope, by themselves, will not get us to our “fishing spot.” The Christian life isn’t about drifting or just staying still. There are times when we need to move out into deeper waters, or turn the boat around and head for home. For that, we need Love to be the motor, or the sail, or the oars to propel us. And we need the “chart”– God’s word, and the wisdom of the Holy Spirit– to guide us to our destination. Only then can we get the most out of our Anchor and its ability to keep us firmly in the place we need to be.
An anchor, left dragging behind, will actually hinder or stop our movement. We can get so “anchored” on a certain doctrinal argument, or a certain job at church, or a certain tradition, that we fail to move where God would have us go next. Once again, the anchor does no good unless it is IN the boat as we travel. When God calls us to repent, to change, or to move, we have to trust Him enough to bring the anchor aboard and let His Spirit move us to our next destination.
There is much more that can be said about our sure Hope and Faith, but I want to stop and digest this much for now. I pray for wisdom to use the Anchor of Hope properly all my days.
