Frankie Mazzapica - God Moments Are Powerful Anchors
The title of today’s message is «Great Memories are Powerful Anchors.» Today, you’re going to hear me speak, and you’re also going to hear my wife, Ally. I know you will be blessed while we’re sharing our message with you. I want to let you know what we’re going to be talking about today. We actually have two targets. I will be sharing about your personal walk with the Lord and reminding you of what God has done for you, so that it will be an anchor for you as you go forward. Then Ally is going to come up and speak from a unique perspective. She will talk about mothers, fathers, brothers, and sisters in the Lord, and your blood mother, father, brothers, and sisters. Maybe they are your family in the Lord; maybe they’re not.
In my case, when I was 19 years old, I was spiritually adopted by a lady named Jeie Mayo. She became my mother in the Lord. She spoke into my life and guided me towards the direction that God had for me. My father is my best friend, and I have a wonderful mom who gave birth to me, but there was a certain point in my life when they needed to pass the baton, even though I’m still very close to both of them. It was time for a spiritual voice to take me to the next level, and that’s what Ally is going to talk about.
We have three major points for you today. We’ll talk about how God moments—moments in your life where you know without a doubt that God was there for you—serve as anchors. Maybe you were driving down the street and almost got into a car accident; you hit the brakes and cried out, «Jesus, help me!» You didn’t have time to recite the «Our Father.» In that moments, you knew God was there for you. Then there are other moments in your life when you look back and think, «I almost died in that season—not physically, but inside.» I know God was there for me.
So, we have three main points on how these anchors, these God moments, keep us from drifting. Secondly, we’ll discuss how they keep us stable when storms come. How many people in the room agree that it’s not if the storm comes but when it comes? Anchors keep us stable. Lastly, I want to talk about how not only do anchors keep us from drifting and keep us stable during storms, but they also pull us forward to God’s plan for our lives.
I want to visually illustrate this. Mary, the mother of Jesus, will be our case study today. She birthed the Lord, and shortly after Jesus was born, shepherds came to see Him and told others what they had seen. In Luke 2:18, it says that all who heard from the shepherds were astonished. But Mary took all these things happening to her, tucked them into her heart, and thought about them often. She took these moments and experiences and allowed them to be an anchor in her life to remind her that God had called her for a specific purpose.
You see, what the enemy wants to do is take every single moment you’ve ever had with God and drag you toward forgetfulness, keeping you consumed not with rehearsing what God has done but with every mistake and regret you’ve ever had. Mary reminds us that we all have a tendency to drift. Leave memories planted in your mind; it will keep you from drifting from what God has called you to.
Ally wants to illustrate this point.
Growing up as a little girl, I always felt something—I was called to something. I don’t know why, because I didn’t grow up in a ministry family. I just loved Jesus and sensed that there was more. I lived my life ebbing and flowing through the ups and downs of my teenage years, you know how that goes. But when I was 19, I was attending a Bible study that I loved. It was run by an awesome godly family, and there were incredible kids there. I was learning so much and enjoyed going.
I remember one night I walked into the kitchen to get a drink and saw a couple of the leaders and moms talking about how glad they were that their son was dating this girl because she didn’t come from a divorced or broken family with all that baggage. Oh my goodness, they were just going on and on, and what they didn’t realize was that a 19-year-old girl had just walked in and came from a broken family with lots of baggage. I remember pondering that and thinking I had to discern whether this was something I was supposed to be hearing or thinking about. I felt distraught.
What I realized now, in my 40s and with years in ministry, is that we all have baggage. You don’t have to come from a broken family to have baggage. Unfortunately, like you, I have baggage—anybody else? I realized later that this analogy really stuck with me: when you get on a plane, the baggage is tagged with your destination. It’s put in the bottom of the plane, but that baggage doesn’t determine where you end up. You know who does? The pilot. What really matters is this: who is your pilot? Who is your anchor?
I learned this much later. At 19, I didn’t understand it, so I was at the altar several times asking the Lord for help. I felt called, but I clearly had baggage. I didn’t know what to do with my life. One morning, on a Sunday, one of the church leaders came down and prayed for me. They just poured into me and said, «Ally, I really feel like you’re called to ministry, and I don’t know why, but I see flags over your head.» I remember thinking, «Flags? Oh no, does this mean missions?» I felt called to something, but what do flags mean? I just held that in my heart like Mary did.
A couple of months later, while volunteering at a local ministry in the youth district office in Alberta, I was put in charge of driving the head speaker, Jeie Mayo, back and forth to the airport and hotel. We hit it off over three days, and she told me, «Ally, I want you to come intern and work under me. I sense you’re called to ministry.» I was like, «Okay, oh my goodness!» Sure enough, about nine months later, I was in Rockford, Illinois. The first day I walked into the sanctuary and lifted my hands to worship the Lord, do you want to know what was on the ceiling? Every single flag of every country that ever existed, and I thought, «God, I’m where I’m supposed to be.»
Now let me dive into the second point. The first one was that anchors keep us from drifting, and now I want to talk about how an anchor keeps us steady in a storm. Drifting can be illustrated like this: if you’re at the beach sitting on a towel or lawn chair and you go out into the ocean for about half an hour, you look up, and your beach chair is not where you left it. It might have drifted without your realizing it. Anchors keep you from drifting.
However, when the storm comes, sailors and individual boaters need to drop their anchor. One day, a young man will come to my daughter and fall in love with her. He better ask me if he can marry her! I plan to ask him this question: «When the storm comes—and it will come—where are you going to run?» Then I will ask him, «Where do you get your strength from?» Some people rely solely on their own intellect and figure things out on their own, only to stay in a season too long. But Mary dropped anchor in the middle of a storm.
During Jesus' ministry, there were times—five times in the Book of Mark—when multitudes surrounded Him, wanting to see or experience healings because evil spirits tormented them. Mark 3:20 states that at one point, Jesus was in a home so crowded that He didn’t even have time to sit down and eat. In verse 21, it says His family and friends came to that gathering intending to grab Him by force and drag Him out of that crowd, believing He had gone crazy. There is no battle worse than seeing your child go through something you cannot fix. Mary had to dig deep and drop an anchor, saying, «I know what’s happening right now is beyond my control, but I refuse to stop thinking about the memories and the promises that God put in my heart. I’m hanging on to them.»
In the middle of a storm, I’ve learned that all storms eventually run out of rain. Amen? All storms have an expiration date. In those storms, we drop anchor and say, «God, I’m just going to hang on. You’ve always been there; I’m going to hang on.» Ally, would you illustrate this point for us?
Yes! I’ve been through many storms over the last 44 years, but one of the hardest ones was when I lost my dad. It still rocks me. In the first service, I could hardly hold it together. It was seven years ago, and you’d think that’s a long time ago, but it never feels normal. I remember struggling, traveling back and forth to Canada. He was 60 when he passed away, and I look at myself now—I’m 15 years from 60. That’s way too young to pass away and way too young for me and my kids to lose their grandpa. He called me every day, and then one day he stopped calling.
I remember coming to church the next weekend after he passed. It had been a two-year battle of traveling with my little three-year-old while my other kids were here. I told Frankie, «I don’t want to go to church. I can’t sit on that front row and pray for people because I don’t even have faith. I’m so angry at God. I’m so frustrated. I don’t understand why He didn’t heal my dad.» My faith was rocked; I felt like I didn’t have any to give.
I remember asking the Lord for help—I was begging Him. But I didn’t even want to talk to God or pray. I turned to Francine, my spiritual mentor, and told her I was angry and mad. She said, «When you’re angry, don’t turn your back on God. Turn toward Him; yell, scream, and let Him know how you’re feeling. Let Him heal you.» When I did that, things shifted. I got my relationship with Him back, but I still didn’t want to sit on that front row or pray or smile. So, I thought about starting a parking lot ministry; I could wave signs and smile without having to talk to people.
Sure enough, I gathered about 40 signs, and many of you were part of that team for years. We blasted worship music, waved people in, and did our thing. Eventually, Woodland’s Township shut us down four years later, but that healed me during that time. I needed those years of healing with that team because others' smiles brought joy back to my heart.
Let me pause before I jump into the third point. The resounding theme we’re discussing is these anchors. When Ally spoke of Francine, who breathed life into her and became a mother in the Lord, sometimes it’s someone else holding the anchor for you. You’re hanging on to them, and they refuse to let you go. They’re saying, «This will pass; we’ll get through this.» Ally needed someone to have faith for her when she didn’t have it for herself.
You are called to be that brother, sister, or mother in the Lord, saying, «I know you don’t believe in yourself, but I believe in you, and I’ll remind you of what God’s called you to do until you believe in yourself just as much as I believe in you.» That is an assignment on your life—to be an anchor in someone else’s life during the storm.
If no one has ever told you who you are, let me take a moment to tell you. In Ephesians 2:10, it says, «You are God’s masterpiece.» He created you for a purpose. The Lord sees you as a masterpiece, and despite our imperfections, He created us anew in Christ. You are part of His plans, written long ago, and that’s an anchor.
There’s a term called «kedging.» An anchor keeps you safe from drifting and steady in storms, but «kedging» is used by sailors during the doldrums—places where there’s no wind blowing, and you feel stuck. Instead of dropping an anchor, sailors throw it ahead, finding something solid to pull them forward. They keep doing this until they can move.
This is similar to how Mary tucked in her heart the memories of everything the Lord did for her, saying, «If God promised it for me, I’m going to keep believing it.» Are you with me? Ally, can you illustrate that point for us?
Yes! When Frankie came to me at 25 and said we were starting a church, I said no way. I told him, «I’m not qualified. I don’t do this; I do youth ministry, not adults.» Yet, as you see, we started a church. My first thought was, «I’m not qualified; I don’t sing or play piano.» I didn’t have the skills I thought I needed. I remember praying, asking the Lord for help because I felt so unqualified.
Then the Holy Spirit spoke to me one day in my bathroom, saying, «Be a foundation just as you are, and I will bring the people needed to build it.» I didn’t remember the importance of the flags or that I was called to this. Now, as I walk on this stage, I have to remember that through storms, it’s the anchor that keeps me where I need to be.
Trusting in Him is key. As you navigate your life, remember the flags—whatever those dreams or callings are. Trust that the reward on the other side is greater than you think. My reward is my children, and I see how far God has brought us and how much He has provided. If you find yourself in a pit or a cave, just remember your flags and trust Him.
As the gospels unfold, Mary’s anchor, which had sustained her through everything, was now shaken as she watched her son hanging on the cross. In that moment of brokenness, she went back to her last memory when Jesus said in Luke 24:49, «Go to Jerusalem and wait for the Father to send the promise of blessing you with power.» So she went, holding on to that last word while everything else was crumbling.
In Acts 1:4, as she actively waited in prayer, the Spirit of the Lord came upon her and 119 others. What she hoped for was soon exceeded by something she couldn’t imagine. Hang on to the last word—the promises in your spirit—and let that pull you forward. Can you give God a hand for that?
Now, I’d like for everyone to stand to your feet. The common denominator among us all is that we’re believing God for a miracle. Each person’s miracle is different from the others. I encourage you not to retreat into yourself and wait until you’ve figured everything out. You may never figure it out.
Instead, anchor your hope in God and say, «I’m not sure you’ll come through, but I’m hoping in You.» When we take all of our chips and push them to Him, we find that He is not just our God—He becomes our Father, our Savior, our Deliverer. I want all of our prayer partners to come to the altar if they would.
This property has 47,500 square feet, but there is a sacred rectangle about 40 feet long and 10 feet deep that I’ve seen hold God’s presence. I’ve witnessed miracles here. Yes, God can touch you wherever you are, but there’s something transformative about coming to the altar.
This is my invitation to you: come down, hold the hand of a prayer partner, and say you need God. If your heart isn’t ready to meet the Lord, you are the most important person in this room. I invite you to come forward and talk with someone about how to get your life right with God.
There’s no official dismissal—you can leave whenever you’re ready—but let’s sing this song at least once or twice through before you go. May the Lord bless you and keep you; may His face shine down upon you and be gracious to you; may His countenance be lifted upon you and bring you peace. In Jesus' name, amen.