My faith, my anchor, has held, but not because I have been rowing hard, not because I have been steering well, not because I am made of rugged stuff, not because I am a man of mighty faith. It has held fast because it is held firm in the nail-scarred hands of the one who died and rose for me. He, by his grace, has held me safe thus far, and he, by his grace, will hold me to the end. I have every confidence that my anchor will hold—that my anchor will be held—until he at last delivers me to that safe harbor far across these troubled seas.

At one of the many shipyards dotting Canada’s East Coast, another great oceangoing vessel is very nearly complete, and in just a few weeks it will begin to transport containers across the Atlantic. But before it can embark on its maiden voyage, it must endure a strict regimen of tests. Waters flood the dry dock and, for the first time, the great ship floats. Its propellors rumble to life and it slowly steers into deep waters where it can test its mighty engines, its mechanisms for steering, its systems of navigation. It must also test its anchors, for no ship can safely venture to sea that does not have working anchors. Yet the captain knows that the anchors can only truly be tested in a storm. It is when the storm is rising, when the winds are howling, when the waves are crashing against the hull, that the anchors are put to their fullest test.

I first professed Christ in sunny days, first claimed his promises when all was calm and still. I cast my anchor and latched it onto the rock on a day when the surface was undisturbed by the least wind or wave. And at many times I have marveled at how easy my life has been, at how little suffering and sorrow I have experienced along the way. The anchor of my faith has held fast, but I’ve always known it has never faced more than a mild pull, a gentle strain. I’ve always wondered if it could withstand much more.

As a ship’s anchors are put to the test in a storm, my faith has been put to the test in these days of sorrow. The moment Nick died it was like a great hurricane struck my life. The winds suddenly blew hard, the rains poured down, the waves rose fierce and strong. The chain pulled taut, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it might break free.

The hymn-writer Edward Mote once considered the nature of faith in times of trial and decided to compose a hymn on the theme. Taking inspiration from the parable of Jesus, in which he contrasted the futility of building a house upon the sand with the wisdom of building a house upon a rock, he wrote:

My hope is built on nothing less
than Jesus’ blood and righteousness.
I dare not trust the sweetest frame
but wholly lean on Jesus’ name.

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