A Fit Anchor

When a person accepts Jesus Christ as savior, he also accepts him as Lord. That means the one who saved him now becomes his master. He is no longer his own. The master takes charge of the vessel as it is, where it is, with the assurance of directing it safely through dark and sometimes stormy seas. The Holy Spirit brings light into the darkness and helps him read and comprehend the Holy Bible. The Word of God becomes his guiding map, instruction manual, and anchor for his journey home. 

The master, himself, is the living Word. The Spirit is our comforter and counselor. He counsels us to pursue the Word with all diligence. Those who conform and obey grow to understand and accept the significance and meaning of our circumstances and our destination. Those who don't, cast a dim light and question or worry about their decision to trust in a savior they can't see, and only faintly hear.

Some hoist an anchor the size of a hairpin, and take more stock in their own oars than the Spirit who controls the raging winds. Others cling to their anchor, afraid to cast it into the sea and trust it to secure them when trouble comes. Yet others have so devoted themselves to building up their anchor it is too big for them to manage. They clumsily hurt, and sometimes kill, those around them when they wield it proudly, creating storms of their own making.

Those who listen to the Counselor, the Spirit of the living Word, seem to know what to do and  how to manage themselves as they navigate the sea of life. They bring light into the darkness to aid those adrift all around them. Sometimes the light is welcomed, but vile people who are engaged in mischief, perversion, and deceit prefer darkness, so they contend or flee. Let your light so shine that it might attract those who are drowning to the savior you follow.

If you are indeed one of those fortunate light bearers, I pray by the time you approach the shore of your destination you have become so familiar with your master's voice, and so attentive as to see His great lighthouse shining through the fog, that you can step out of your rickety old boat when he calls you out by name and walk on water, bearing your iron anchor. Only I suspect you will find it has become a wooden cross, a yoke, comfortably fit upon your shoulders. 

And as He greets you on the other side, may you look upon his beaming smile and hear him say, "Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of  your Lord!" Welcome home, mate.

Eric ScottComment