“We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.”

Hebrews 6:19 isn’t poetic fluff—it’s a lifeline. Jesus is not just our Savior; He is our stabilizer, our security blanket, our unshakable anchor when the winds of grief, injustice, and spiritual warfare howl around us.

In a world unraveling at the seams, where chaos seems to accelerate and darkness presses in, we cling to the hope that does not disappoint.

I was deeply moved by Erika Kirk’s public act of forgiveness toward the man who took her husband’s life. That kind of mercy doesn’t come from human strength—it’s the evidence of the Comforter, the power of the Cross, and the reality of resurrection hope. Her courage reminds us that anchored souls don’t drift—they stand. Even in the face of loss, they testify. Even in the face of evil, they forgive. May we be found tethered to Christ in this hour, not tossed by fear or bitterness, but held fast by the One who conquered death and calms every storm.

Consider the disciples in the boat, battered by waves and overwhelmed by fear, while Jesus slept peacefully in the aft. He had already told them, “Let us go over to the other side”—not “Let us go halfway and drown.” His word was a promise, yet their panic revealed a lack of trust. When they woke Him, He rebuked the wind and the waves, but He also rebuked them: “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?” (Mark 4:40). Jesus was present the entire time, resting securely because He knew the outcome. The storm was never stronger than His word.

So how do we react when faced with our own storms? Not everyone will endure a tempest as fierce as Erika Kirk’s, yet in the midst of a storm that would render many hopeless, she had the strength to say, “I forgive.” That is faith anchored in Christ. That is the kind of hope that holds fast when everything else breaks loose. Let us not measure the size of our storm, but the strength of our anchor. Let us trust the One who commands the waves and has already spoken our destination into being.

And what of the storms that come not from tragedy, but from vocal opposition—just for being who God called you to be? Remember Goliath, the uncircumcised Philistine who stood day and night belittling Israel, hurling insults and intimidation. The people of God cowered in fear, silenced by the size of the enemy. Today, many voices ridicule those who stand with truth, who support righteousness, who refuse to bow to cultural idols. Verbal grenades are lobbed to shame and silence—but David did not flinch.

David had faced his bears and lions. He had seen God’s deliverance firsthand. So when he heard Goliath’s taunts, he didn’t tremble—he ran toward the battle. His sling and stone were backed by a history of faithfulness. Likewise, those who have suffered and prevailed are uniquely equipped to help others who struggle. Scripture affirms this:

“[God] comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.” (2 Corinthians 1:4)

Let us not be intimidated by the giants of our day. Let us remember that the same God who anchored us in the storm also empowers us in the battle. The same Spirit who calms the sea also silences the accuser. May we stand like David—with history in our hands and hope in our hearts—ready to declare, “The battle is the Lord’s.”

BE A CHARLIE — SOMEONE NEEDS YOUR VOICE

In a generation silenced by fear and fatigue, we need voices that refuse to bow. Charlie stood for truth, for righteousness, for the Kingdom—and paid a price. But his legacy lives on in those who will not be intimidated, who will not retreat, who will not compromise. Be a Charlie. Speak when others shrink. Stand when others scatter. Someone needs your voice. Someone is waiting for your courage to unlock theirs.

Closing Prayer

Lord, anchor us in Your truth. When storms rage and giants roar, remind us that You are with us in the boat and on the battlefield. Give us the boldness of David, the endurance of Erika, and the conviction of Charlie. May we not be silenced by fear or shame, but rise with holy defiance and Spirit-led compassion. Use our scars to heal others. Use our voice to awaken the sleeping. Use our lives to glorify Your name. In Jesus’ name, Amen.