Anchor

“All through the storm, your love is the anchor”.

That is the line of a song we sang in church today. When I sang it, the words hit my heart like a hug.

This past week has been so wonderful. My last week in Bangalore was more than I had ever hoped it would be. With such sweet fellowship, delightful food, and tons of fun, I could not have asked for a better holiday or to spend time in better company.

It is difficult because though I was on a holiday, enjoying the “sunny days” and taking a break from the daily life here at the Impact center, I realize there has seldom seemed to be a time when I have been without “the storm”. That inner turmoil, when spirit and soul are fighting for hope, against the loneliness, disappointment, and unintentional disillusionment, has been with me since the beginning of this trip.

But the storm also covers more ground than just the immediate days of late. It covers a life time.

In all honesty, I have often found myself bitterly disappointed in times of life. (Those of you who have known my family an extensive amount of time know. And I know there are many of you who empathize with the bitterness I refer to.)

 There are some storms which have passed into brighter days. Some storms were so dark; I can hardly tell you what they were made of. Some are ongoing and very volatile. It is in these storms, where no relief or stillness is in sight that I recognize just how bitter my heart is. I do not mean that I hold anything in contempt, only that the pain has so pierced me, so thoroughly, that it becomes all I feel.

A confidante recently told me after I expressed my heartache that I remind them of someone in the Bible – Naomi. “Great”, I thought. A disillusioned, hope-dashed, widowed, son-less, poor, bitter woman.  Yes, it is true. Much of Naomi as we know her is a woman who moved to a land where she expected to be saved from famine, but instead experienced the starvation of her heart.  And when she returns after life has dealt her hardship, she insists on being referred to by the state of her heartache.

But the wonderful part about Naomi’s bitterness is that she expressed it and we never see any mention of God condemning or reproaching her for her feelings. In fact, her real bitterness is seemingly justified by His real hope-filled plan of redemption for her life, even to the point of making her the great, great-grandmother of David.

In real storms, we need a real anchor.   And such a love can outlast any bitterness.