“Anchors, Assurance, and Anna”
No event of this nature would be complete without a big setback. I have a beautiful journal which I received in a fruit basket from some ladies in a church where I spoke. I chose this thick, hard back book several months ago to use in preparation for our upcoming Ladies’ Christmas Banquet, which takes place in only three days.
If you’re a list maker like I am, you’ll understand the feeling a list gives you. It provides security, a sense of direction, a constant in the midst of confusion. For me, at least, it’s my anchor.
I also put little red letters with the initials of people who are responsible for carrying out the tasks on my lists, and over and over again as I check my list every morning, I see little red “A’s”. That stands for my daughter, Anna. She’s my “anchorman” of sorts.
Saturday afternoon, we received word that her father in law had passed away. She began packing hers and the children’s things to join Andrés, who was with his Dad at the time of his death. He was a four-hour drive away. She packed my car, loaded the children, and thankfully Andrés’ nephew and his wife were able to go with her, as she headed out about 7:30 p.m., promising to return Thursday, the day before the Banquet.
As I stood in the middle of the street, waving good-bye to them, suddenly I felt disoriented. What on earth would I do without her? What about all the things she still needed to do?
A dark cloud began to settle over me, as I prepared for bed. I woke up Sunday morning at 4:30, and decided to get up, instead of lying in bed trying to figure out who would take Anna’s place. I was also grieving with Andrés, whose father was a devout Christian man. Several years ago, he assured his son that he was ready to go to Heaven. Anna commented when she received the news of his death, “I know he had devotions with his children last night, because he gathers us around at night when we’re there, and sings in Chol, reads Scripture, and prays.”
This is Tuesday morning, and thankfully as I write Anna and the children are on their way back. They left at 5:30 this morning, and Andrés will join her on Thursday. Last night when I read her phone message, everything began to come into focus, and to make sense. I felt like my anchor was once again firm, and in place.
As I crawled under my covers last night, a sense of peace and joy settled over me. Everyone would soon be in their proper place. Anna would be back, and my life would be in order.
Then I thought, “How sinful to put our trust in man…or woman…or daughter, or husband. My anchor should be in the Lord, Who, just as He gave assurance to Andrés that his Dad is in Heaven, can give me the security, and stable feeling that He, not Anna, is in control of everything. He is the One Who took Andrés’ Dad. It is wicked, sinful I who puts my trust in the wrong anchor. My assurance should lie in The Anchor.”