“Mom, I’m only about 9 years away from getting my driver’s license and when I do, Andrew will be 12.”
This is what my baby girl yelled up at me from the back of the minivan yesterday.
Yes, the baby girl who is celebrating her seventh birthday this morning is already calculating the countdown to her driver’s license.
Way to make your mom’s heart skip a few beats.
This week, while her older sisters were away at summer camp, she also calculated how long it might be before she got a job.
Then she decided she wants to head off to summer camp next year and counted off how many months it would be until she could register.
My Catherine is the queen of the countdown. She is forever calculating the time between now and the next dream-come-true.
On the first day of summer vacation, we presented my daughters with a wrapped gift. Inside, we included a picture frame displaying an image: Mickey Mouse ears with the words: “Days Until Disney: ___.”
Everyone was excited, but it’s my baby girl who became the official keeper of the countdown. She’s faithful and focused. Every morning, she pads out of her room still yawning and heads straight for the Mickey Mouse picture. She uses the dry erase marker to alter the numbers. One more day down. One less day to the dream-come-true.
This isn’t quite the same as my goal-setting older daughter, the girl who sets tasks and accomplishes them. My older girl is all about pushing herself to personal achievement. She makes schedules, checklists, and charts and sticks to them until she’s raced across another finish line.
But this is different. This isn’t self-discipline and it’s not about achieving or doing in any way.
My baby girl loves countdowns because they allow her to throw down anchors of hope in the midst of the everyday.
And she enjoys today completely because she knows that another good day is coming: The day when it’s her birthday. The day when she has that playdate with her dear friend. The day when we pack the minivan and head to Florida. The day when her sisters come home from summer camp.
They’re all good days and they’re all coming.
So, today she can relax, kick back her feet and enjoy it all. It’s all part of the journey from here to the promised land, and the view is just fine.
This is the natural inclination of her heart; she overflows with joy and she bubbles up with gratitude for all the gifts of every day.
Maybe it’s not the natural leaning in my own soul, but I take it to heart and I pray I can be more like this seven-year-old girl—this daughter who was so excited to spend a week of “alone time” while her big sisters were away at camp and who is equally excited to see them come home again. It’s all good with her.
I can learn, this too.
I can learn how to throw down anchors of hope in the middle of the beautiful, and the everyday, and the seemingly hopeless situations. All of them.
In Acts 27, Paul was headed on a ship to Rome that was caught in a tempest in the Adriatic Sea. The sailors and crew despaired and fretted.
Fearing that we would be dashed against the rocks, they dropped four anchors from the stern and prayed for daylight (Acts 27:29 ESV).
Stormy seas. Threatening rocks. The possibility of shipwreck. The appearance of disaster.
Surely we’ve all been there. Maybe we are there. Maybe we’ll be there someday.
And right in the middle of the season that seems forever or the situation that seems like it can’t possibly get better, not ever–right then is when we “drop anchor…and pray for daylight.”
Throw down the anchors, the truths we know that will clamp us to the rocky foundation of faith, and watch for God’s deliverance.
God is faithful.
He will not abandon us.
He has a plan.
He will be glorified.
He is sovereign and He is able.
Scripture tells us:
We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain (Hebrews 6:19 ESV).
The Message paraphrase says it this way:
We who have run for our very lives to God have every reason to grab the promised hope with both hands and never let go. It’s an unbreakable spiritual lifeline, reaching past all appearances right to the very presence of God (Hebrews 6:18-20 MSG).
Grab on to hope with both of your hands and don’t let go.
That anchor that you toss down–that future promise, that assurance of deliverance–reaches right to the presence of God.