A Note from Michael Gossett | January 29, 2026
Anchored In Hope
1 Peter 1:1-12 says, “Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ: To those chosen, living as exiles dispersed abroad in Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia, chosen 2 according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through the sanctifying work of the Spirit, to be obedient and to be sprinkled with the blood of Jesus Christ. May grace and peace be multiplied to you. 3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Because of his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead 4 and into an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you. 5 You are being guarded by God’s power through faith for a salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. 6 You rejoice in this, even though now for a short time, if necessary, you suffer grief in various trials 7 so that the proven character of your faith—more valuable than gold which, though perishable, is refined by fire—may result in praise, glory, and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. 8 Though you have not seen him, you love him; though not seeing him now, you believe in him, and you rejoice with inexpressible and glorious joy, 9 because you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls. 10 Concerning this salvation, the prophets, who prophesied about the grace that would come to you, searched and carefully investigated. 11 They inquired into what time or what circumstances the Spirit of Christ within them was indicating when he testified in advance to the sufferings of Christ and the glories that would follow. 12 It was revealed to them that they were not serving themselves but you. These things have now been announced to you through those who preached the gospel to you by the Holy Spirit sent from heaven—angels long to catch a glimpse of these things.”
Hope is not fragile because life is hard. Hope is fragile because it is often misplaced. Many people speak of hope as optimism, emotional resilience, or a positive outlook on the future, but God’s Word speaks about it much differently. Biblical hope is not wishful thinking about what might happen. It is settled confidence in what God has already done and what He has promised to finish.
If you were to trace the emotional journey of Abraham Lincoln through the crucible of the Civil War, you would discover a man whose hope rose and fell like a small vessel in storm-tossed seas. At the beginning of the war, Lincoln stood resolute and clearly hopeful. In his first inaugural address, delivered on March 4, 1861, he spoke of “the mystic chords of memory stretching from every battlefield and patriot grace, to every living heart and hearthstone, all over this broad land,” expressing confidence that these chords would “yet swell the chorus of the Union.”
But hope is a fragile thing when anchored in circumstances. After a devastating defeat in Virginia, Lincoln confessed in August of 1862, “Well, we are whipped again, I am afraid.” The following months and years found him living in near-constant despondency. Following the catastrophic loss at Fredericksburg in December of 1862, he spoke words that reveal a soul teetering on the edge of despair: “If there is a worse place than Hell, I am in it.” By 1864, the weight had become almost unbearable. “This war is eating my life out,” he wrote. “I have a strong impression that I shall not live to see the end.”
And then, remarkably, light broke through the darkness. In March of 1865, just a month before Lee’s surrender, Lincoln found the strength to deliver his Second Inaugural Address with its famous closing lines: “With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up that nation’s wounds.” Less than two weeks before his assassination, on April 3, 1865, Lincoln could finally exhale: “Thank God I have lived to see this. It seems to me that I have been dreaming a horrid dream for four years, and now the nightmare is gone.”[1]
Lincoln’s emotional journey reveals something that is profoundly true about the human experience: when our hope is tethered to circumstances, it will inevitably rise and fall with the happenings around us. Isn’t that easy for us to understand right now? The Civil War must have been the height of national turmoil and yet, it somehow appears that we are approaching the same heights today. Clashes of protesters and ICE, social media warring for our minds and our allegiances, national parties and tribalism seem to be at an all-time high, mistrust with leadership, lack of accountability with politicians, hatred filling the streets, Canada strengthening ties with China, Middle East turmoil, Russia and Ukraine, and so much more! Lincoln’s words could be our words: “I have a strong impression that I shall not live to see the end.”
You are not alone, feeling the weight of a fatigued spirit and a worn-out heart. Peter was writing to people who understand this experience intimately. They are not armchair theologians debating abstract concepts in the comfortable confines of academic institutions. They are believers facing real persecution, genuine suffering, and authentic threats to their lives and livelihoods. They are scattered across the ancient world living as exiles in cultures that range from indifferent to hostile toward their faith.
And yet, when Peter writes them, he does not begin with sympathy for their sufferings or strategies for survival. He does not tell them how to end the riots, what side of the political aisle they should vote on. He begins with hope. Not wishful thinking that passes for hope, but a specific, concrete, unshakeable hope rooted in the very character and purposes of Christ.
The Foundation of Living Hope
“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Because of his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead and into an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you” (1 Peter 1:3-4).
Notice carefully what Peter is doing here. He is not offering a pep talk designed to boost diminishing spirits. He is making a theological argument with profound practical implications. The hope Peter describes is not something believers generate through positive thinking or spiritual effort. It is something given, a gift of divine grace that flows from the resurrection of Jesus Christ.
This matters more than we might initially realize. If hope depended upon our ability to manufacture it, then it would be as unstable as our fluctuating emotional states. On good days, we might muster enough optimism to face our challenges. On bad days, when depression or discouragement set in, hope would simply be unavailable to us. But Peter insists that hope is not dependent upon our spiritual performance or emotional capacity. It is secured by the resurrection of Christ and held in heaven by God Himself.
The Puritan pastor Thomas Watson captured this truth beautifully when he wrote, “Hope is the soul’s anchor, cast within the veil, and there, if the anchor holds, the ship cannot be lost.”[2] The anchor of Christian hope is cast not into the unstable ground of human circumstances but into the bedrock of divine promise sealed by the resurrection of God’s Son.
The resurrection of Jesus Christ is not merely one item on the list of Christian doctrines. It is the hinge upon which everything else turns. If Christ has not been raised, Paul tells us, our faith is futile, and we are still in our sins (1 Corinthians 15:17). But because Christ has been raised, everything changes. Death has been defeated, sin has been conquered, and the future is secure. The resurrection is not just a past event to be remembered but a present power to be experienced and a future hope to be anticipated.
The Practical Anchor
If hope depends upon my circumstances, then I am at the mercy of forces beyond my control. Economic downturns, health crises, relational failures, political upheavals: any of these can destroy the foundation of my hope and leave me adrift in a sea of despair. But if hope is anchored in Christ, in His accomplished work, His present intercession, and His promised return, then no circumstance, however dire, can ultimately threaten it.
This does not mean Christians never experience discouragement or struggle with doubt. The saints throughout history have wrestled with darkness and emerged stronger for the struggle. Martin Luther battled what he called anfechtungen, spiritual attacks that left him feeling abandoned by God.[3] Charles Spurgeon suffered from depression so severe that it sometimes kept him from the pulpit.[4] These were not men of weak faith but of honest faith, faith that did not pretend the darkness away but pressed through it to the light on the other side.
The difference between despair and anchored hope is not the absence of struggle but the presence of something solid beneath the struggle. The waves may crash, the wind may howl, the storm may rage. But the anchor holds. And because the anchor holds, we can weather the storm.
I think of this truth often when I stand at hospital bedsides or sit across from the newly bereaved. In those moments, glib assurances ring hollow, and simplistic answers feel almost insulting. But the hope Peter describes can bear the weight of even these extremities. It does not deny the pain or minimize the loss. It simply points beyond them to a reality that suffering cannot touch, an inheritance imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven by God Himself for those who are His.
A Hope Worth Having
This is the hope to which we are called. This is the anchor that will hold. This is the foundation upon which everything else Peter teaches is built. And as we continue through his letter over the next few weeks, we will discover how this hope transforms every dimension of our existence: how we relate to God, how we treat one another, how we engage with a watching world, and how we face the inevitable suffering that marks human life in a fallen world.
But it all begins here, with hope. A living hope. An anchored hope. A hope that will not disappoint because it rests not on our grip but on God’s grasp, not on our faithfulness but on His, not on anything in us but on everything in Christ.
The question that confronts each of us is simply this: Where is your hope anchored? Is it fastened to circumstances that may shift at any moment? Is it tied to relationships that, however precious, are marked by human frailty? Is it dependent upon health, wealth, or success, all of which can be stripped away without warning? Or is it anchored in the living Christ, who conquered death, secured your inheritance, and even now intercedes for you at the right hand of the Father?
Abraham Lincoln’s hope fluctuated with the fortunes of war because it was tied to outcomes he could not control. But there is a hope that does not fluctuate, a hope that remains steady through victory and defeat alike, a hope that looks beyond the immediate to the eternal and finds there an anchor that will never drag.
May that hope take root in your soul. May it grow strong and deep as you journey through these pages. And may it become the unshakeable foundation upon which you build the rest of your life.
For this is what it means to be anchored in hope.
PRAYER GATHERING
We would love for you to join us this Wednesday evening from 6-7pm for our weekly Prayer Gathering. We will spend time seeking the Lord together, lifting up one another, praying for our community, and asking God to move in and through our church for His glory.
If you have never come to a prayer gathering before, this is a wonderful time to start. There is no pressure to pray out loud if it feels uncomfortable. You are welcome to simply come, listen, and agree in your heart with the prayers being offered. What matters is that we are together, united before the throne of grace.
Come as you are. Bring your tired heart, your anxious thoughts, your grateful spirit, or all of the above. We will meet you there, and more importantly, the Lord will meet us there.
This week we are continuing our study through the Gospel of Luke. This Sunday (like every Sunday, but definitely this Sunday) is not a Sunday you want to miss. The ice has melted and the church will be warm and ready for you! In Luke 9:43b-62, Jesus speaks directly to what it means to be truly committed. This is not based on some theory but rather is based on the Words of Jesus for your life and my life. This passage presses us to ask honest questions: What does commitment to Christ really look like today? Where have we grown comfortable? What distractions or conditions have we allowed to shape our walk with Christ?
I believe the Lord is using this text to do a clarifying work in our church. It’s the kind of message that helps us slow down, refocus, and realign our hearts around Christ and His mission.
If you are able, make it a priority to be here this Sunday for Worship and Connect Groups! It will be a meaningful time for us to gather, worship, and sit under God’s Word together.
I am looking forward to seeing you!
Did you miss last week’s message? If so, you can catch up by clicking HERE!
You are loved and prayed for!
Michael Gossett
[1] Mike Nappa, God in Slow Motion (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2013), 103-104
[2] Thomas Watson, A Body of Divinity (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth Trust, 1965), 179.
[3] Roland Bainton, Here I Stand: A Life of Martin Luther (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1950), 361.
[4] Zack Eswine, Spurgeon’s Sorrows: Realistic Hope for Those Who Suffer from Depression (Fearn, Scotland: Christian Focus, 2014), 23.