Hebrew 6 Hope is an Anchor for the Soul

Hebrew 6 paints a picture of hope as an anchor in a stormy sea. An anchor at sea locks you to a fixed point, a reference. Life without an anchor is subject to ever changing waves and winds.

When I graduated high school in 1976, my first Summer job was offshore drilling in the Gulf of Mexico. Training had been a short job on land in the Florida Everglades, Alligator Alley. Now for the real assignment. I arrive at port at 2300hr and learn that the weather is too rough to transport the crew by helicopter, but not too rough for a crew boat. At 1 minute past midnight (so they don’t have to pay us for the whole previous day), we loaded up on a 45 feet work boat, went below and headed out. The ride seemed smooth enough and I fell asleep. Some time later, I awake in mid-air and then crashed on to the bench I was sleeping on. We were now in open water and high seas. The ride was crazy. This was my first experience in a sea storm. A crewman stepped in to tell us we will be in 20 foot seas for a few hours, so just hang on. Seas of 20 feet means 20 feet at the peak to 20 feet down to the trough, 40 feet of travel. The hours went by very slowly.

Then, we hear the roar of the engines slow down and we knew we were at our destination. The crewman opened the hatch and told us to file out one at a time. At my turn, I poked my head out to see nothing but blinding stadium lights above, rain pouring down and a roaring of noises. I am told to be ready, a basket will drop out of no where and when it lands on the deck, I must throw my duffle bag on it and then stand back. The basket will then launch out of sight. The basket will return and I need to immediately jump into the basket. The boat will quickly move away in case I fall out. Better to fall into the water than to fall onto the deck.

So all this happens. As I jump into the basket, I realize that the basket doesn’t launch up, but that it’s that the boat launches down. I am resting steady. Then I see why the boat speeds away. If not, it would rise back and crash into the basket and me. The basket then slowly rises. I see now that my perspective was all wrong. The boat was not the steady element. The boat was rising and lowering the 40 feet in the seas. The basket, attached to the steady drill platform was the anchored element, the foundation. The basket rises to the drill platform and I step out onto this rock steady foundation. My perspective is completely changed, corrected. Now, I see what normal is. I went from crazy to normal with a simple change of perspective. The storm was still raging, but I was no longer being tossed to and fro. I was standing on a sure foundation.

That is my picture of Hope and my steady Anchor.

Blessings,

David Berryman

“Freedom is not the license to do what I want, but the strength to do what I ought.”

David has enjoyed a 40+ year career as technical support in national defense until his retirement at the end of 2023. He has also served as chaplain support in Virginia since 2011, first in the Prince William Adult Detention Center until 2019 and now at Coffeewood Correctional Facility beginning in 2021. All that along with guiding a legacy of 20+ grandchildren. David feels a deep calling to walk alongside the forgotten and rejected, helping inmates find their way back and discover their purpose.