Anchors and Ships Lost at Sea

Life can change overnight and we’re suddenly thrust into a new, more challenging way of living; added anchors of various weights, each remarkable in their capabilities, forever leave us with a changed footprint.  The lighter anchors pull us just below the churning surface where we can at least bob for air. The heavier burdens, or anchors can take us to the cavernous desolation of Marianas Trench, where sunlight cannot penetrate, yet life is faintly sustained, if you are a microorganism.

In the moments of day to day, minute by minute breathing, any  form of hope cast forth is limitless, almost weightless, IF we do not allow ourselves to fall too deeply and succumb to the surrounding water pressure of present existence, which increases with depth.

Just as there is movement beneath the shadowy currents, so also are our mindsets and self-perceptions. If we are not careful or fail to lasso destructive thought patterns, those vast trenches become murky, watery graves in which our soul, psyche and abundance of purpose lose their shining. We become buried, as ships lost at sea, where recovery is undeniably impossible if our internal tectonic plates collide into permanence.

Imagine the precarious position this propels our loved ones into; they cheer from the shore, feeling helpless as we drift in and out, as we dive deeper into hypnotic solitude, possibly to the point of no return.

Imagine the levels of frustration our loved ones endure because they love us, yet that love can become fragile if we are not willing to do our part in meeting them, at least in the middle. If we do not seek strength from our Creator, deep in these trenches, then life becomes void. Believe me, I know.

When effort replaces ambivalence, our loved ones are renewed in their fight right along side us. They once again pick up the pieces and bear the loads that we cannot carry; they make our waters placid. So too, does my God, He has carried me across those stormy waters, taking the full brunt of attacks, on my behalf. He will do the same for you.

Photo by Manuel Keusch from Pexels

1 comment

Hold fast to your hope, friend 🙂

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