A Better Promise
Have you ever been on a boat caught in a storm?
A few years ago I rode a couple of ferries across the Baltic Sea. The trip from Tallinn to Helsinki was calm—only a short stretch where land disappeared from view. Easy. Peaceful.
But the next night was different.
We boarded an overnight ferry from Helsinki to Stockholm—about eighteen hours—and sometime in the darkness a storm rolled in. The ship felt like it was shifting four or five feet at a time. Inside was a mini shopping mall, but walking the hallway felt like moving through a funhouse. The floors tilted. The walls seemed to rise and fall. When I finally lay down, I had to imagine I was floating on an air mattress just to keep from getting seasick.
By morning, everything was calm. We stood on the deck watching the fjords glide past. Stunning. Peaceful. Almost impossible to believe what the night had felt like.
But I can only imagine what it would have been like to stand on the deck in the middle of that storm.
There’s an old story about a ship caught in a violent storm just outside the harbor. The wind howls. Waves crash over the deck. Visibility disappears. No stars. No shoreline. No sense of direction.
In the chaos, the sailors drop the anchor.
Nothing changes immediately. The storm still rages. The boat still groans. But the captain is calm.
A young passenger asks, “How can you be so sure we’re safe? We can’t see the anchor. We can’t see land. We’re still in the storm.”
The captain replies quietly,
“I don’t need to see the anchor… as long as I know it’s holding.”
As long as the anchor holds.
That is exactly the image Hebrews gives to weary believers.
Hope for the Weary
Hebrews is a letter written to Christians who are tired. Not faithless—just exhausted. Following Jesus had become costly. Pressure mounted. Endurance felt thin.
After issuing one of the strongest warnings in the letter, the author does something profoundly pastoral: he anchors their hope—not in their performance, not in their consistency—but in God’s unchanging character.
“We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.” (Hebrews 6:19)
But before he speaks of the anchor, he speaks of Abraham.
A Promise Guaranteed by God Himself
“When God made his promise to Abraham…” (6:13)
Abraham was given a promise that seemed impossible: descendants as numerous as the stars. A great nation. Blessing for all peoples. Yet years passed. Decades. Waiting. Doubt. Missteps. Still, Abraham believed.
And God did something remarkable.
Because there was no one greater to swear by, He swore by Himself.
In the ancient world, you swore by a higher authority to guarantee your word. But there is no authority higher than God. So He bound His promise to His own character.
For the promise to fail, God would have to cease being God.
Hebrews reminds us that God confirmed His promise with an oath so that “by two unchangeable things”—His promise and His oath—“we may be greatly encouraged.” It is impossible for God to lie.
The oath was not for God’s sake. It was for ours.
God doubles down—not because He is unreliable, but because we are prone to doubt.
Our hope rests not on emotion or endurance, but on the unchanging nature of God.
Waiting Patiently
“And so after waiting patiently, Abraham received what was promised.” (6:15)
Two words that clash with our world:
Wait.
Patiently.
We measure everything by speed—shipping times, hold times, turnaround times. But much of spiritual maturity grows in the soil of waiting.
Abraham’s fulfillment was slow. Painfully slow. Yet God was faithful.
Waiting is not wasted time. God’s delays are not always denials.
An Anchor Beyond the Storm
Then comes the image that carries the weight of the whole passage:
“We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain…” (6:19)
Anchors are not for calm seas. They are for storms.
An anchor does not stop the wind. It keeps the ship from drifting.
And notice where this anchor is lodged—not in circumstances, not in outcomes, but “behind the curtain.” In the presence of God Himself.
Our hope is anchored in heaven.
It is anchored where Jesus has already gone “as a forerunner.” A forerunner goes ahead to secure safe passage. Jesus does not merely show us the way—He holds it open. As our high priest forever, He guarantees access to God.
Abraham received a promise.
Jesus is the fulfillment of the promise.
The oath sworn to Abraham finds its unshakeable fulfillment in Christ.
Trust the Anchor
If you feel like your boat is being battered by waves…
If following Jesus feels costly…
If hope feels thinner than it once did…
Hear this:
Your hope does not rise and fall with your circumstances.
There is an anchor tied to you that is secured in eternity.
Hebrews does not tell us to hold on harder.
It tells us to trust the anchor.
You may not see it.
You may still feel the storm.
But the anchor holds.
And if you hear nothing else, let that settle into your soul:
The anchor holds.