Steadfast

"The anchor holds, though the ship is battered; the anchor holds, though the sails are torn,"  sang our song leader in a departure from the hymns he usually led.  I love that song!  And it was so effective as the congregation joined in from memory.  Then last night he sang another favorite as a solo: "I Thank God for the Lighthouse."

That afternoon, my husband and I remembered we were on the calendar to sing that night, and Howard pulled out the old song, "Where No One Stands Alone," for us to try.  I had never tried to sing it, but we practiced, and surprisingly it fit in well with the mood of the day which was tinged with sadness due to a death in one of the families of the church.

The former pastor was passing through town on a relocation move to Texas, and he was asked to preach for the evening service.  His subject was "Remembrance," and he was full of memories.  "Do you  remember that old blue pew we used to have?" he asked his former members.  "I remember when we got this light," he said, pointing to a flickering "candle" flame in a glass votive on the communion table.  "It was to remind the people to come to the altar and pray."

He told of a time he, his wife and family were routed from bed with the noise of a tremendous crash, seemingly from the street outside their house.  Upon investigation, there was no trace of any disturbance.  A few minutes later, their phone rang with the terrible news that a wayward son was in a horrific accident when hit by an 18-wheeler in a distant city.  His point was that, when extricated from his crumpled car, the scared
young man remembered his Christian upbringing and asked for prayers.  His injuries were minor!

"Sometimes God brings forth something stored in my memory that I had completely forgotten," the stooped, older preacher said.  He said when he was young he used to attend auto races as a hobby, since it was a pasttime that he enjoyed and was harmless to his Christian testimony.

"Once years later, one of my church members asked me to drive him to a nursing home in Kansas where he would become a resident," he began.  "As we drove along, suddenly an 18-wheeler, turned sideways, was coming at me.  There was no way I could get away, when out of nowhere the thought popped into my mind, 'Race drivers drive away in the ditch.'  In a split second, I headed for the ditch, which was actually a smooth climb up the embankment to the only grassy space for miles.  The rest of the roadside was covered with overgrowth and boulders.  We passed safely with inches to spare!" he finished.

Like the flickering flame from the altar, Jesus is our Lighthouse in the darkness of our despair, and we never need to stand alone if we remember Christ our Saviour, our Anchor!