Lenten Series: We Have an Anchor

Remember the night last week when the wind sounded like the beginning of a fierce blizzard?

Since the wind was from the south, I could walk in the protection of our trees. But the wind howled, and whooshed, and careened through the treetops.


Somehow this song came to mind, tracing images of large sailing vessels with crews trying to get down the huge canvas sails to save the mast, its rigging, and the ship. The iconic anchor was lowered, waves crashing, bow bending forward and back.

Then I imagined hearing this song in four-part harmony with the Hammond organ leading the parts and the piano filling in the riffs. My favorite part as a little girl was the descending arpeggio the bass line punched out on the last line “Firm and Deep”. The words and harmony were a perfect marriage of meaning and music.

Though the storms of life sent the waves crashing over my life, the anchor is firm and the Rock is sure.  Having walked the valleys leading to the death of my mom, my dad, as well as my loving in-laws, I rest more easily knowing that He was stable, firm and sure in those places, too.


In times when the month was longer than the pocketbook, when hands were tangled in machinery, when hearts were broken, when fevers raged, when our cattle’s feed lay trampled on the ground rather than staying on the stalk, our anchor was sure and secure.

How steadfast is the anchor of your life, the place you put your confidence?

heart of stone

Will Your Anchor Hold?

By Pricilla J. Owens

Will your anchor hold in the storms of life,
When the clouds unfold their wings of strife?
When the strong tides lift and the cables strain,
Will your anchor drift, or firm remain?


We have an anchor that keeps the soul
Steadfast and sure while the billows roll,
Fastened to the Rock which cannot move,
Grounded firm and deep in the Savior’s love.

It is safely moored, ’twill the storm withstand,
For ’tis well secured by the Savior’s hand;
And the cables, passed from His heart to mine,
Can defy that blast, thro’ strength divine.


It will surely hold in the Straits of Fear—
When the breakers have told that the reef is near;
Though the tempest rave and the wild winds blow,
Not an angry wave shall our bark o’erflow.


It will firmly hold in the Floods of Death—-
When the waters cold chill our latest breath,
On the rising tide it can never fail,
While our hopes abide within the Veil.


When our eyes behold through the gath’ring night
The city of gold, our harbor bright,
We shall anchor fast by the heav’nly shore,
With the storms all past forevermore.



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