Over the years, my late husband, Mark, and I would get away for a few days to the lake in Oklahoma where his parents had a small cabin. It was not only small, but it was simple. His mom was simplistic in her decorating, often bringing older decor from home. As part of that décor, she made sure there were a lot of family pictures depicting vacations at the lake scattered throughout the small wood-paneled living room. So many family memories were made there over the years, and she wanted every one of them remembered.

Mark and I enjoyed the times we were there with family, whether it was his mom’s Taylor family reunion or just with his immediate family, but we especially enjoyed the times when we could get away to that little cabin on the lake and be alone. One of the greatest blessings of being there was the lack of cell phone service. At the little cabin on the hill overlooking the lake, we were truly alone and separated from the rest of the world.

One of our favorite things to do was to go back out on the lake after dinner for an evening ride. I remember one particular evening when Mark wanted to ski since the waters were smooth and so few boats were on the lake. I drove him for a while before entering a cove where we were going to just lie on the bow of the boat, talk and enjoy the quiet of the lake. Since we were in a cove and the water was relatively calm, we did not put out the anchor. As we lay there engrossed in our conversation and watching the stars burst forth, we failed to realize that the boat was drifting toward the shore line. Suddenly, we were startled by a thump and looked up to see that the boat was no longer in deep waters, but we had drifted toward the shore into shallow rocky waters. The boat was caught in the mud, mire, rocks and vines along the shore.

I was recently talking with a young woman whose husband had asked her for a divorce. As she described their relationship in the months leading up to this, I thought about our time on the boat adrift, having failed to put out our anchor and secure our safe place on the lake. Because we were not anchored, we ended up entangled on the shoreline. Somewhere along the way, her husband had decided to no longer anchor his life to Christ, therefore he became adrift. Now, he was entangled in the mud, mire, rocks, and vines of another relationship, having chosen to leave his wife and children.

That long ago night on the lake Mark and I were so distracted with our conversation and our surroundings that we lost sight of where we were, and without an anchor, we became adrift. One of Satan’s goals is to distract us so that we fail to anchor ourselves daily to the One who keeps us safe and secure, Jesus, the “Anchor” of our souls. We had no idea how far we had drifted until it was too late, our boat was stuck in the mud, mire, vines, and rocks of the shoreline.

Are you distracted and drifting? Is your life in danger? Is your marriage in danger? Pay attention. What are the warning signs that you are in jeopardy of losing your job, your reputation, your marriage, your family, etc.? Choose to return to the Anchor of your soul, for only Jesus can keep you from drifting!

So when God desired to show more convincingly to the heirs of the promise the unchangeable character of his purpose, he guaranteed it with an oath, so that by two unchangeable things, in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled for refuge might have strong encouragement to hold fast to the hope set before us. We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf, having become a high priest forever after the order of Melchizedek.

Hebrews 6:17-20