Hope is My Anchor
Strength for your soul amid life's storms May 2004
_________________________________________________________________
On the first warm day of spring this year, I went out to my favorite forest preserve
for some quiet reflection. I followed the bark-chip-laden path, winding through the
almost bare trees. Here and there signs of spring dared to poke through the damp
brown: a little green on the forest floor, a few buds, and patches of bright, happy blue-
bells heralding the coming of warmer days. I hiked around the bend when the brown
gave way to a great grassy expanse that took my breath away: a new, spring green, a
fresh-after-the-storm green, a glowing with dew-jewels green. Draped around it, a
quiet stream beckoned. There is no hurry, it seemed to whisper.
It reminded me of Pooh’s river, which draws a beautiful picture of growing up—and
also a picture of our faith growing up, of trusting in God, of learning to rest in Him. But
I find many times that I am more like the "little streams higher up in the Forest, [going]
this way and that, quickly, eagerly, having so much to find out before it [is] too late." I
fight, I wrestle, I wonder why God doesn’t act sooner. Often, I reject His rest. It is
not the gift that I want. I want change! I want action! I want it now! God offers instead
the power, the strength to weather the storm, the deep rest of abiding in Him.
Martin Luther said, "it’s not by reading or writing or speculating that one becomes a
theologian; it is rather living, dying, and being damned that makes one a theologian." I
find in his words someone who understands the constant struggle, the testing of life, the
questions that come, and the relief of knowing I’m not the only one. This is the truth he
realized when he read Psalm 22:1, later quoted by Jesus, "My God, my God, why
have you forsaken me?"
When I struggle, I often feel as Paul did, hard pressed on every side. I read the stories
of Jesus healing so many, yet live with a husband God has chosen not to heal. And
then my children—how do you read story after story, "Jesus healed…Jesus healed…"
and not feel slammed into the wall by the daily "no" you face when your chronic illness
is not healed? Do you hope God’s answer is "not yet?" Do you wish for the relief of
death? Do you resignedly accept your "fate," or do you continue to allow yourself to
be emotionally beat up by unanswered prayers, hoping this time… What kind of hope
carries you through, carries you beyond?
Paul wrote in 2 Corinthians 4:8, "We are hard pressed on every side, but not
crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down
but not destroyed." And he wrote this only 3 chapters to the verse after proclaiming in
1:8, " We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about the hardships we
suffered in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability
to endure, so that we despaired even of life."
How did Paul go from a deeply despairing man to one who did not despair, who was
not crushed, who knew he was not abandoned, and that destruction was not his end?
He continues, "Indeed in our hearts we felt the sentence of death. But this happened
that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead. He has delivered
us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that
he will continue to deliver us, as you help us by your prayers…"
Paul had good reason to despair, who wouldn’t? He was imprisoned, flogged, and
"exposed to death again and again. Five times I received from the Jews the forty
lashes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I
was shipwrecked, I spent a night and a day in the open sea, I have been constantly on
the move, I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in danger from
my own countrymen, in danger from Gentiles; in danger in the city, in danger in the
country, in danger at sea; and in danger from false brothers. I have labored and toiled
and have often gone without sleep; I have known hunger and thirst and have often
gone without food; I have been cold and naked. Besides everything else, I face daily
the pressure of my concern for all the churches…" 2 Corinthians 11:23-28.
He despaired—and then he relied on God, gained strength to go on, and found he did
not despair. This is the comfort we pass on one to another. When we find a God so
reliable, so trustworthy, so unmistakably loving and sovereign that we can turn to Him
in the most severe trouble, fix our eyes and our purpose on Him, and believe Him
when circumstances deny His existence, then we have found the secret of comfort.
And in our prayers and in our love, we can carry a battle-weary brother or sister into
the presence of the God who heals us by His wounds.
The Psalmist cries out,
How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my
heart?
And Isaiah calls back,
"Why do you say, O Jacob, and complain, O Israel, ‘My way is hidden from the
LORD; my cause is disregarded by my God’? Do you not know? Have you not
heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. He
gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths
grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in
the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will
run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." —Isa 40:27-31
You can almost feel the river growing, gaining strength as the Psalmist continues,
Look on me and answer, O LORD my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death;
my enemy will say, "I have overcome him,"
and my foes will rejoice when I fall.
But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
I will sing to the LORD,
for he has been good to me. —Psalm 13
Winter is sometimes very long. But spring is coming, and the love of our great and
sovereign Lord is unfailing. We know where we are going. And there is no hurry when
we rest beside the quiet stream, where He restores our souls.
Hoping in Him,
Merry
Strength for your soul amid life's storms May 2004
_________________________________________________________________
On the first warm day of spring this year, I went out to my favorite forest preserve
for some quiet reflection. I followed the bark-chip-laden path, winding through the
almost bare trees. Here and there signs of spring dared to poke through the damp
brown: a little green on the forest floor, a few buds, and patches of bright, happy blue-
bells heralding the coming of warmer days. I hiked around the bend when the brown
gave way to a great grassy expanse that took my breath away: a new, spring green, a
fresh-after-the-storm green, a glowing with dew-jewels green. Draped around it, a
quiet stream beckoned. There is no hurry, it seemed to whisper.
It reminded me of Pooh’s river, which draws a beautiful picture of growing up—and
also a picture of our faith growing up, of trusting in God, of learning to rest in Him. But
I find many times that I am more like the "little streams higher up in the Forest, [going]
this way and that, quickly, eagerly, having so much to find out before it [is] too late." I
fight, I wrestle, I wonder why God doesn’t act sooner. Often, I reject His rest. It is
not the gift that I want. I want change! I want action! I want it now! God offers instead
the power, the strength to weather the storm, the deep rest of abiding in Him.
Martin Luther said, "it’s not by reading or writing or speculating that one becomes a
theologian; it is rather living, dying, and being damned that makes one a theologian." I
find in his words someone who understands the constant struggle, the testing of life, the
questions that come, and the relief of knowing I’m not the only one. This is the truth he
realized when he read Psalm 22:1, later quoted by Jesus, "My God, my God, why
have you forsaken me?"
When I struggle, I often feel as Paul did, hard pressed on every side. I read the stories
of Jesus healing so many, yet live with a husband God has chosen not to heal. And
then my children—how do you read story after story, "Jesus healed…Jesus healed…"
and not feel slammed into the wall by the daily "no" you face when your chronic illness
is not healed? Do you hope God’s answer is "not yet?" Do you wish for the relief of
death? Do you resignedly accept your "fate," or do you continue to allow yourself to
be emotionally beat up by unanswered prayers, hoping this time… What kind of hope
carries you through, carries you beyond?
Paul wrote in 2 Corinthians 4:8, "We are hard pressed on every side, but not
crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down
but not destroyed." And he wrote this only 3 chapters to the verse after proclaiming in
1:8, " We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about the hardships we
suffered in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability
to endure, so that we despaired even of life."
How did Paul go from a deeply despairing man to one who did not despair, who was
not crushed, who knew he was not abandoned, and that destruction was not his end?
He continues, "Indeed in our hearts we felt the sentence of death. But this happened
that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead. He has delivered
us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that
he will continue to deliver us, as you help us by your prayers…"
Paul had good reason to despair, who wouldn’t? He was imprisoned, flogged, and
"exposed to death again and again. Five times I received from the Jews the forty
lashes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I
was shipwrecked, I spent a night and a day in the open sea, I have been constantly on
the move, I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in danger from
my own countrymen, in danger from Gentiles; in danger in the city, in danger in the
country, in danger at sea; and in danger from false brothers. I have labored and toiled
and have often gone without sleep; I have known hunger and thirst and have often
gone without food; I have been cold and naked. Besides everything else, I face daily
the pressure of my concern for all the churches…" 2 Corinthians 11:23-28.
He despaired—and then he relied on God, gained strength to go on, and found he did
not despair. This is the comfort we pass on one to another. When we find a God so
reliable, so trustworthy, so unmistakably loving and sovereign that we can turn to Him
in the most severe trouble, fix our eyes and our purpose on Him, and believe Him
when circumstances deny His existence, then we have found the secret of comfort.
And in our prayers and in our love, we can carry a battle-weary brother or sister into
the presence of the God who heals us by His wounds.
The Psalmist cries out,
How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my
heart?
And Isaiah calls back,
"Why do you say, O Jacob, and complain, O Israel, ‘My way is hidden from the
LORD; my cause is disregarded by my God’? Do you not know? Have you not
heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. He
gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths
grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in
the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will
run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." —Isa 40:27-31
You can almost feel the river growing, gaining strength as the Psalmist continues,
Look on me and answer, O LORD my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death;
my enemy will say, "I have overcome him,"
and my foes will rejoice when I fall.
But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
I will sing to the LORD,
for he has been good to me. —Psalm 13
Winter is sometimes very long. But spring is coming, and the love of our great and
sovereign Lord is unfailing. We know where we are going. And there is no hurry when
we rest beside the quiet stream, where He restores our souls.
Hoping in Him,
Merry
By the time it came to the edge of the Forest, the stream had grown
up, so that it was almost a river, and, being grown-up, it did not run
and jump and sparkle along as it used to do when it was younger,
but moved more slowly. For it knew now where it was going, and it
said to itself, "There is no hurry. We shall get there some day."
—A. A. Milne, The House at Pooh Corner
up, so that it was almost a river, and, being grown-up, it did not run
and jump and sparkle along as it used to do when it was younger,
but moved more slowly. For it knew now where it was going, and it
said to itself, "There is no hurry. We shall get there some day."
—A. A. Milne, The House at Pooh Corner
© 2004 Dave and Merry Marinello, all rights reserved.
Welcome! Thanks for visiting our little "harbor" amid life's storms. We hope you
will find rest and encouragement in your struggles, big or small. Here you can:
will find rest and encouragement in your struggles, big or small. Here you can:
"From Despair to Hope and Rest" May 2004 Newsletter
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
Hope is My Anchor
Strength for your soul amid life's storms
Strength for your soul amid life's storms
Join us at Yahoo Groups to receive the Hope is My Anchor
newsletter. Please contact us if you have any difficulty joining.
newsletter. Please contact us if you have any difficulty joining.