things began happening around the ministry with growing regularity. Unwise expenditures were authorized with my approval . . . except I
hadn’t
approved them. A key ministry relationship was terminated at my request . . . except I
hadn’t
requested it. Hurtful accusations about our staff were attributed to me . . . except I
hadn’t
said them.
Before my eyes, everything our team had worked so hard to build . . . including our staff’s
esprit de corps
—suddenly seemed to be unmoored and drifting out to sea. I knew something was horribly wrong, yet I was unable to ascertain the source.
One day, about a year and a half after Julie’s arrival, I was feeling frustrated and confused. Then after a board meeting to help other ministries, I sighed under my breath, “It’s wonderful to help others, but I can’t help myself.”
Unknown to me, my lament had been overheard by an astute businessman who had been standing at an angle far behind me. John immediately followed up, pressing me to explain. Though embarrassed and a bit ashamed, I finally told him about the ministry’s mysterious woes and how powerless I felt to stop them.
John immediately asked permission to conduct a thorough investigation, and I agreed. After three weeks he revealed his findings. “June,” he bluntly said, “you have a snake in the grass, and that snake is Julie.”
John presented incontrovertible evidence of Julie’s fraudulent, unethical practices, corroborated by countless staff, vendors, and other colleagues with whom John had spoken, individuals reluctant to come to me because of lies they’d been told. Earlier I knew about a few little white lies; however, I had let them slide.
Armed with the truth, I terminated Julie’s employment. Even after her departure, I learned more about how she had sought to pit one staff member against another.
Little by little, equilibrium began to return . . . to the ministry, to the staff, and to my life. With it came the blessed reminder that through one of the darkest storms of my life, one that threatened the very life of this ministry as none other before or since, God did, in fact, serve as my anchor, stabilizing me.
In the midst of the pain Jeremiah 29:11, the ministry’s theme verse, comforted me time and again: “‘I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”
Throughout this ordeal,I was given a divine opportunity to do for myself what I have counseled thousands of
Hope In The Night
callers to do: “Hold on to hope.” By taking my own advice, I learned two priceless lessons: First, confront any and every breach of integrity, and second, Jesus is my Anchor, and He is holding me.
Don’t give up the hope to which He has anchored you . . . hold on and keep on holding!
#5: THE SEA ANCHOR
Made of sturdy cloth like either a giant sail or a parachute, the sea anchor is lowered into the water to create a drag and slow the vessel, especially when water depth is too great for an anchor to grab hold of the bottom.
Jesus is our anchor.
Like the sea anchor, Jesus stabilizes us when we feel like a ship haplessly tossed about on the water . . . out of control . . . because of a compulsive addiction or besetting sin. In the depth of our souls, He slows us down, helping us to see how our continual wrong choices will ruin our relationships and shatter our dreams. Jesus anchors us when the powerful waves of personal disappointment leave us in deep despair . . . perhaps even so much so that suicide is considered . . . something,
anything
to stop the pain. Even in the most troubling, turbulent times, Jesus is our Anchor . . . even in the darkest part of the deep.
Biblical example
: As a prisonerfacing possible death, the apostle Paul was being transported by ship to Rome to stand trial. In the midst of hurricane-strength winds, the crew lost control of the ship. The tempestuous wind tossed the ship like a
hadn’t
approved them. A key ministry relationship was terminated at my request . . . except I
hadn’t
requested it. Hurtful accusations about our staff were attributed to me . . . except I
hadn’t
said them.
Before my eyes, everything our team had worked so hard to build . . . including our staff’s
esprit de corps
—suddenly seemed to be unmoored and drifting out to sea. I knew something was horribly wrong, yet I was unable to ascertain the source.
One day, about a year and a half after Julie’s arrival, I was feeling frustrated and confused. Then after a board meeting to help other ministries, I sighed under my breath, “It’s wonderful to help others, but I can’t help myself.”
Unknown to me, my lament had been overheard by an astute businessman who had been standing at an angle far behind me. John immediately followed up, pressing me to explain. Though embarrassed and a bit ashamed, I finally told him about the ministry’s mysterious woes and how powerless I felt to stop them.
John immediately asked permission to conduct a thorough investigation, and I agreed. After three weeks he revealed his findings. “June,” he bluntly said, “you have a snake in the grass, and that snake is Julie.”
John presented incontrovertible evidence of Julie’s fraudulent, unethical practices, corroborated by countless staff, vendors, and other colleagues with whom John had spoken, individuals reluctant to come to me because of lies they’d been told. Earlier I knew about a few little white lies; however, I had let them slide.
Armed with the truth, I terminated Julie’s employment. Even after her departure, I learned more about how she had sought to pit one staff member against another.
Little by little, equilibrium began to return . . . to the ministry, to the staff, and to my life. With it came the blessed reminder that through one of the darkest storms of my life, one that threatened the very life of this ministry as none other before or since, God did, in fact, serve as my anchor, stabilizing me.
In the midst of the pain Jeremiah 29:11, the ministry’s theme verse, comforted me time and again: “‘I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”
Throughout this ordeal,I was given a divine opportunity to do for myself what I have counseled thousands of
Hope In The Night
callers to do: “Hold on to hope.” By taking my own advice, I learned two priceless lessons: First, confront any and every breach of integrity, and second, Jesus is my Anchor, and He is holding me.
Don’t give up the hope to which He has anchored you . . . hold on and keep on holding!
#5: THE SEA ANCHOR
Made of sturdy cloth like either a giant sail or a parachute, the sea anchor is lowered into the water to create a drag and slow the vessel, especially when water depth is too great for an anchor to grab hold of the bottom.
Jesus is our anchor.
Like the sea anchor, Jesus stabilizes us when we feel like a ship haplessly tossed about on the water . . . out of control . . . because of a compulsive addiction or besetting sin. In the depth of our souls, He slows us down, helping us to see how our continual wrong choices will ruin our relationships and shatter our dreams. Jesus anchors us when the powerful waves of personal disappointment leave us in deep despair . . . perhaps even so much so that suicide is considered . . . something,
anything
to stop the pain. Even in the most troubling, turbulent times, Jesus is our Anchor . . . even in the darkest part of the deep.
Biblical example
: As a prisonerfacing possible death, the apostle Paul was being transported by ship to Rome to stand trial. In the midst of hurricane-strength winds, the crew lost control of the ship. The tempestuous wind tossed the ship like a
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