One night, I got into bed, thankful that I could sleep and not think about what was going to happen to me or my family.
“I just want to sleep so I can escape from whatever it is that God is doing. . . or not doing.”
I realized that it was probably unhealthy for me to want to escape through sleep, so I tried to think of verses and words that were comforting. I was reminded of a conversation I’d had with my friend, Eppie, the previous year. I’d called her for prayer for our family and several weeks later she called me,
“Rachel, you’re going to think this is crazy. . .”
“No, really, I promise I won’t,” I said.
“Well, okay. This morning during praise and worship at our church I was praying for you and Michael, and God gave me a vision of an anchor. Rachel, God’s not going to leave you flailing around at sea, He is your anchor.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. It was so personal. The continuance of the maritime theme. So, as I lay in bed that night, I wanted to totally trust Him, but it was so hard. I couldn’t see what He was doing. I thought I knew for sure but it seemed nothing was moving, nothing was opening.
“My anchor holds within the veil. . .” I said to myself. “God, I don’t have a clue what You are up to. I thought we’d all be out living on a cruise ship and here we are in Pulaski. I thought you’d freed us. Where is this resurrection you promised me?”
I couldn’t see it.
So, I waited, hoping He would deliver on His word.