Hope // Flood Me

"We have this HOPE as an ANCHOR for the SOUL, firm and secure." 

-Hebrews 6:19a- 

It's underlined in purple pen, the silhouette of an anchor penciled next to it. The pages worn, a spot in Hebrews that always falls open without much prompting. A secure hope. A promise of His that binds my soul, like a grappling hook from my heart to His- a way to bring down these promises, a source of constant hope. 

But sometimes? The storm blows, and the anchor starts to tug away from the cleft in the rocky seabed- and my heart bobs at the top, like a buoy tossed helplessly from the controlling wind. 

Hope. 

How can you live without it? What is there to look forward to without it? Why am I trying to live without it?

Hope. 

Ironic that such hope comes from links of metal, a solid weight, something that drags. We picture such things as bondage, as slavery, as children destitute to hopelessness. But these chains? They're a lifeline. Something sure in this storm, something we all must grasp until our knuckles turn white like it's the only thing left. 

Hope. 

When the cancer consumes and we're sitting here not knowing what to do next, when we're left alone and those you thought would stick around have abandoned you, when you've been tossed back and forth by these waves for weeks and months and years, when you're in the midst of all this- it's hard to see a break in the clouds, a glimmer of sunlight...a ray of hope. 

Hope. 

This hope, it's prayer. It's the certainty that Yeshua has entered into the Inner Sanctuary, petitioning on our behalf. It's praying and tossing this anchor into the heavens, praying His kingdom down. 

Hope. 

I struggle with it. The winds of fear blow me until my vision is blurred and my head is swimming. But I must have hope. Hope that the Son will come. He will shine from the Sanctuary, that the Father's mercy is not exhausted- His Hand is not too short to save me. And sometimes- no, all of the times- He's got us in the deep end for our good. To teach us, to grow us, to stretch us. 

Hope. God, flood me to overflowing. 

(hey you- keep clutching the anchor. i know it's tough. i know it's hard. but cling to Him 'cause He's not going anywhere. firm and secure, girl- those are His words to your storm-battered heart)