Ref: John 17:14-16
For the last two months I’ve been helping a friend take up and re-lay the sub-floors in some motel rooms. It’s physically challenging for this couch potato, but it’s good work. The plywood flooring was originally nailed into place, then later, decking screws were added to help stop the floors from squeaking and bothering the borders in the rooms below. So as we pry up the old plywood, we have nails and screws to contend with, and we’ve gotten pretty good at “feeling” whether we need to pry up against nails or go after a hidden screw or two, for they feel very different.
It’s almost impossible to pry the wood up against screws because of the way they are anchored. This morning I was thinking about how different the nails and screws “feel” as we fight against them, and I felt there was a lesson brewing.
Like the hidden screws in the flooring, I sometimes “feel” unseen anchors in my soul, anchors that anchor me into this world and this world system. Oh I pray that Jesus returns soon, and I know intellectually that I’m a citizen of God’s Kingdom rather than earth, but the hidden anchors hold secretly fast, way down inside of me. I can feel them with my spirit. And like the flooring job, I can succeed in pulling out nails, but the screws are insidious, and as I feel their opposition, several questions arise.
The first question is a “Why?” question. Why do I stay anchored in? Is it because I’m afraid of the un-experienced, or do I secretly love this world? The second question is, what can be done about it? How do I get un-anchored? And I know somehow that there is one answer to both questions: I can only break my old anchors by establishing new ones in Jesus Christ.
I’m continually astonished at how helpless I am in my own strength. I can use my will to turn to Christ, and re-turn to Him, but after that, only He has the strength I must have. I can will my world to be turned upside down, but only Jesus, with the power of His Holy Spirit, can actually do it for me. And while I’m tempted to be frustrated, the frustration itself is a testimony that I’m trying too hard to do it myself.
After all is said and done, all I really need is more of Jesus Christ, and I need to continually re-trust Him to be able to accomplish that which He’s begun. As I get more mature in Christ I have better but fewer answers. In fact, I’m working my way down to only One.
On the cross, Jesus bought me – all of me, anchors and all. Since He chose me, I have to reckon He knew what He was purchasing. And He of all people, would have ‘counted the cost’.
Here at the end of this essay, I’m wondering why I wrote it. I look it over and think, “No one will ever like this; it’s too simple and unnecessary.”
But perhaps I’ve made you wonder if you have anchors in your soul….. Can you “feel” them?
John
