Anchoring in Christ: Hope When Life Hurts
A Personal Note: I write this article with special credit to my grandson, Miles. His concern for people who are hurting and suffering helped inspire this article and reminded me just how important it is that those who are struggling know they are not alone, that they matter, and that there is hope.
Anchored in Christ: Hope When Life Hurts
I do not know what brought you to this page. Perhaps you have lost someone you love. Maybe you are struggling with addiction, sickness, physical pain, fear, anxiety, loneliness, or feelings of worthlessness. Perhaps something has happened in your life that you never imagined you would have to endure. Or maybe you cannot even put into words what is wrong—you simply know that you are hurting.
Before I go any further, I want you to understand that this is written as much for the person who does not believe in Jesus Christ as it is for the person who already does. Suffering does not distinguish between believers and unbelievers. Neither does becoming a Christian suddenly make us immune to pain, loss, sickness, fear, anxiety, disappointment or grief. If you are not a Christian, I am not going to tell you that accepting Christ will magically make whatever brought you here disappear. And if you are a Christian, I am not going to tell you that your suffering means your faith is weak or that God has abandoned you. What I do want to tell both of you is that there is a hope greater than whatever you are facing—a hope that does not depend upon the storm going away.
I am not going to minimize that pain. Nor am I going to tell you that if you simply believe in Jesus Christ, whatever is causing your suffering will suddenly disappear. That is not what the Bible promises. We live in a fallen and broken world, and suffering is part of the reality of life within it. Christians become sick. Christians lose people they love. Christians experience fear, disappointment, grief, loneliness and pain. Christians can find themselves walking through circumstances they desperately prayed God would never allow them to face.
Jesus Himself said, “In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). Notice what Jesus did not say. He did not say that those who follow Him would escape tribulation. He told us plainly that it would come. The hope He gave us was something greater: He has overcome the world.
The Anchor Does Not Stop the Storm
An anchor does not prevent a storm from coming. It does not calm the wind. It does not stop the waves from crashing against the boat. It does not prevent the vessel from being battered, shaken and tossed about. The purpose of the anchor is to keep the storm from carrying the vessel away. That is a picture of the hope we have in Christ.
Hebrews tells us: “Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and stedfast…” (Hebrews 6:19). There will be moments in life when everything around us seems to be moving. Circumstances change. People leave us. Bodies fail us. Plans collapse. Things we believed were secure suddenly disappear. Sometimes even our emotions seem completely beyond our control. But our anchor is not fastened to any of those things. Our anchor is in Christ. And Christ does not move.
Being Anchored Does Not Mean Being Unmoved
There is another important distinction. A boat secured by an anchor can still move. It can rise and fall with the waves. It can be pushed from side to side. The people aboard can become frightened. The storm can be violent enough that, for a time, the anchor beneath the water may seem almost irrelevant. But the anchor is still there. In the same way, being anchored in Christ does not mean that Christians never become afraid. It does not mean we never cry, never grieve, never become discouraged or never ask God, “Why?” Faith is not pretending that something doesn’t hurt when it does.
Sometimes faith is crying while still holding on. Sometimes it is saying, “God, I don’t understand what You are doing, and I don’t know how I am going to get through this, but I know Who You are.” The storm may move us. It does not have to carry us away.
Our Hope Is Bigger Than This Life
Christian hope ultimately cannot be understood if we look only at this life. If Christianity promised nothing more than making our present circumstances a little easier, it would be a terribly small hope. Scripture tells us that this life is temporary. James describes it as “a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away” (James 4:14).
That does not make today’s suffering insignificant. When you are hurting, the pain is real. When someone you love dies, the loss is real. When your body hurts, the pain is real. When your heart is broken, telling yourself that life is short does not magically make the hurt disappear. But it does mean that our suffering is not the end of the story.
For those who belong to Christ, there is coming a day when God Himself “shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain” (Revelation 21:4). Think about what that means. No more funerals. No more cancer. No more addiction. No more fear. No more loneliness. No more bodies that betray us. No more watching someone we love suffer. No more saying goodbye. Not because these things were imaginary or insignificant, but because God will finally and permanently remove them. And that is not merely for a few years. That is eternity.
There Is Comfort Even Before the Storm Ends
Yet Christian hope is not only about something waiting for us after death. God is with His people now. Sometimes He changes our circumstances. Sometimes He does not. Sometimes He answers our prayers in precisely the way we hoped. Sometimes His answer is very different from what we wanted.
But the Christian never suffers alone. David wrote: “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me…” (Psalm 23:4). Notice again that God did not promise David that there would be no valley. He promised His presence in the valley. There is a peace that comes from knowing that even when I cannot understand my circumstances, my circumstances have not separated me from God. When everything else seems uncertain, He remains certain. That is what it means to be anchored.
We Can Ride Out the Storm Together
Christians cannot make the storm go away. We cannot control what tomorrow brings, and we cannot promise that the circumstances causing your suffering will change. But we can ride out the storm with you. You do not have to feel alone, and you do not have to face whatever you are going through without hope. We can listen, pray with you and for you, encourage you, lift you up when you are struggling, and be there for you to lean upon when you do not feel strong enough to stand on your own.
This is what Christ calls His Church to do. We are to show compassion, to “weep with them that weep” (Romans 12:15), to “bear ye one another’s burdens” (Galatians 6:2), and to help others wherever and in whatever way is humanly possible. And that compassion should not be reserved only for other Christians. We should be willing to come alongside anyone who is hurting, whether they believe in Christ or not.
Sometimes the greatest testimony Christians can give is not found in what we say, but in how we love someone who is hurting and in the peace with which we endure our own storms. We cannot force anyone to believe, but we can live in such a way that others can see that our hope is anchored in something greater than our circumstances. Perhaps, while the storm is raging, they may begin to wonder where that peace comes from and desire to know the Christ in whom that hope is found. We may not be able to calm the storm. But we can help lift one another when we stumble, provide a shoulder when someone needs to lean, and ride through the storm together—anchored in Christ.
You Matter and God Has a Purpose for You
You may be reading this and thinking that none of this changes how you feel about yourself. Perhaps you feel insignificant, unwanted, forgotten, or as though your life simply does not matter. Maybe circumstances, other people, or even your own failures have convinced you that you have little value. But how you feel about your worth does not determine your worth. You are not insignificant. You are not just another person among billions whom God somehow overlooks. On the contrary, Scripture tells us something extraordinary about the value God has placed upon you: Jesus Christ was willing to pay the ultimate price for you.
The Bible says, “But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). Christ did not wait until we had everything together. He did not wait until we became worthy enough, strong enough, good enough, or deserving enough. He died for us while we were still sinners. There may be moments when you cannot see much value in yourself, but look at the value Christ placed upon you. The price He was willing to pay was not silver or gold. Peter tells us that we were redeemed “with the precious blood of Christ” (1 Peter 1:19). The Cross says that you matter to God. That does not mean God approves of everything we do, nor does it mean that we do not need forgiveness, repentance, or change. Quite the opposite—the Cross demonstrates how serious our sin is. But at the very same time, it demonstrates the extraordinary depth of God’s love toward us.
God has a purpose for you. That purpose is not measured by how many years, months, days, or even hours you may have remaining in this life. None of us knows how much time we have, but whether our time is long or short, our lives are not without meaning. As long as God has given us breath, there is opportunity to know Him, to love Him, to love others, to encourage someone, to forgive, to be forgiven, to pray, to comfort, to testify to His goodness, or simply to trust Him through another difficult day. Your circumstances may change what you are able to do, but they do not make you insignificant or remove your purpose. A person confined to a hospital bed can have purpose. A person struggling with addiction can have purpose. A person who feels forgotten by everyone around them can have purpose. A person approaching the end of this earthly life can still have purpose.
You may not understand what that purpose is today. You may not be able to see beyond the storm in front of you. You do not have to see the entire journey in order to remain anchored. An anchor holds even when the sailor cannot see what lies beneath the water. So when the storm whispers that you are worthless, forgotten, unwanted, or insignificant, do not measure your worth by the storm. Measure it by the price Christ was willing to pay for you. You matter. You are not insignificant. God has a purpose for you. There is still hope in Christ.
Where Is Your Anchor?
Every person eventually discovers that the things of this world make poor anchors. Money can disappear. Health can disappear. Relationships can change. People we love eventually die. Our own strength can fail us. Even circumstances that seem permanent today may be completely different tomorrow. If our hope is anchored entirely to this world, eventually something will happen that is stronger than our anchor. Christ offers something different. He does not merely offer better circumstances. He offers Himself.
And ultimately Christianity makes an even greater claim: death itself cannot break the anchor. Paul could therefore write: “For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come… shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:38–39).
You Do Not Have to Pretend the Storm Isn’t Real
If you are hurting today, I am not asking you to pretend otherwise. If you are frightened, you do not have to pretend you aren’t frightened. If you are grieving, grieve. If you need help, seek help. God has given us other people, physicians, counselors, pastors, family and the Church for a reason. There is no conflict between trusting Christ and accepting appropriate help when we need it. Seeking that help does not demonstrate a lack of faith, nor does it mean that we are abandoning our faith. We can remain completely dependent upon Christ while also accepting the help He has made available to us through others.
If you are contemplating harming yourself—STOP. Please seek real medical help from qualified medical professionals immediately, and seek spiritual help from a trusted pastor or mature Christian who can come alongside you. Tell someone what you are thinking and do not face this alone. If you are in immediate danger, contact emergency services or go to the nearest emergency department. Your life matters. You matter. Whatever you are facing right now, please do not make a permanent decision in the midst of a storm that can change. There is help, there is hope, and there are people who will walk through this storm with you. Give Christ the opportunity.
But whatever storm you are facing, I want you to know that there is hope greater than the storm. Not hope in your own strength. Not hope that tomorrow will necessarily be easier than today. Not even hope that everything in this life will eventually work out exactly as you want it to. There is something much stronger than that. There is hope in Christ. The waves may rise. The wind may howl. The vessel may be battered. You may even wonder at times whether you can hold on any longer.
But the wonderful thing about an anchor is that its security does not depend upon the sailor’s ability to hold the anchor. The anchor holds the vessel. And when our hope is anchored in Jesus Christ, we have something this broken world cannot ultimately take away. The storm is temporary. Christ is eternal. And that is why, even in the darkest night, there is still hope.