Perfectly Possible Peace

As I sit at my quaint vintage desk on this unusually grey and overcast February morning, so aware of time passing and so desiring to make the most of each day, the idea of nurturing peace at home and in my heart seems particularly relevant. 

Much of the world is in turmoil. Our country feels fractured. Families feel divided. Loved ones leaving for perceived safer greener pastures, others, having left, returning to South African home soil. In my own life, I’m feeling the weight of where I’m meant to be and what I’m really meant to be doing. I keep being distracted from the slow process of stringing together sentences and returning instead to the ever-expanding ‘you should be doing this’ list. Neither place feels quite right. I “should” be writing, I “should” be earning, but instead I’m stuck somewhere in the middle, feeling as if I’m failing at both. Drawing aside, I choose, like Mary, to sit at the feet of the One who gives perfect Peace, and find my peace, and find my purpose, in Him. “My peace I give unto you, not as the world gives.” I drink deeply from these Living Waters.  Deeply. Deeply. 

“I am leaving you with a gift—peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don’t be troubled or afraid." (John 14:27 NLT)

Last week our younger daughter, who is studying for a master’s degree in Germany, had her final lecture, a fact that fills me with both pride and wonder – how did she get here so fast? Wasn’t it just a few short years ago that she was the sweetest four year old standing on tippy-toes on a bench at play school, face upturned, to give her TALL dad a goodbye kiss. Wasn’t it only yesterday that she spent the days before her matric exams at our dining room table studying? Now, she’s just months away from obtaining a masters, months away from having to make new choices: Should she return to South Korea, or South Africa? Should she tackle a Phd, look for a job or start a business? 

The years fly by, faster and faster it seems. A few months ago, my husband pulled out an old suitcase containing photographs of our girls when they were little – all cute and cuddles, girly smiles and giggles. Incredible to think that our married lives have nearly had forty years of length and breadth, that we have lived through our child-rearing years, raised daughters to adulthood, watched them leave home, and then eagerly awaited their return, knowing that soon they will leave again.

I am inspired to share a memory of a recent Sunday afternoon at our older daughter’s house. Her children (Whaaat? We have grandchildren?) had spent most of the morning with us. Afterwards, the adults sat around in their lounge enjoying a glass of wine. Charley accidentally thwacked her mother’s glass – a home-run hit. Wine flew everywhere – an entire glass of red wine – spilled mostly on the cream couch. There was a moment of stunned silence in the face of the disaster. Charley’s eyes filled with tears. And in that instant, as red wine seeped into the cream couch and everyone leapt into action, a choice was also made for peace. No one shouted. No one corrected.  No one got upset. No one lectured (not even me!)

“It’s all right, it’s an accident” Lauren said, as she asked Charley to fetch paper towels and wet wipes. “It’s all right, Claude said, as he got up to fetch a mop. “It’s all right”, I echoed, as I got up to help. “It’s all right,” my daughter reassured her daughter as she began to clean up the mess. You could feel the tension in the room dissipate as quickly as it had come. Peace reclaimed and reflected back into the world. Peace as the perfect lesson of the day. Peace because Charley, too, will be all grown up in the blink of an eye, and soon enough her own mother will be looking back at her vanished childhood, wondering if she’s taught her well, if she’s prepared her to bring peace into this troubled world. Small moments – big, lasting impressions. I like to think that, as the matriarch with the grown-up kids, I’m the one who can teach my daughter a few things or two about being a parent. But just as often, she teaches me! 

Going forward, I know that what matters is not how much I manage to get done, how many words I write, or what I choose to do, but how I choose to be. And that is the secret of what brings our daughters and our grandchildren home to this house, family and friends to our table for dinner. It’s not out of a sense of habit or ‘have to’, but a deep need for connection and care, laughter and love, acceptance and peace. 

Peace is what we all long for, and peace is the gift that we can offer one another – in a word of forgiveness, in a smile, a hug, a mercy shown, a gratitude expressed. Even in the way with which a huge stain of red wine gets cleaned off a cream couch!

Reading the news, it is easy to despair, easy to see how seeds of anger and fear can grow into crops of hatred and violence. But I take my cue from my daughter with her children. I choose to embody the truth that peace is always possible. Peace starts in our hearts, and our homes. It starts with me. Choose peace!

And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (Phil 4:7 ESV)

Dear God

Thank you that you are at peace with me, having reconciled man to yourself through Jesus. Thank you that you give me your peace, and that you give it as a gift. I cannot earn it, but I can receive it as your love gift to me. Thank you that no matter how dark the days may be, I am assured that you are with me. You say to the storms, “Peace, be still!” Thank you that even in the worst of times, you set a table before me, a feast where my cup is filled to overflowing. Thank you that your perfect peace guards my heart and mind in Christ Jesus. I am so grateful. Shalom. Shalom.

Amen

How do you keep your peace through the seasons of life?

What lessons have you learnt from your children?

Would you like me to pray for you for peace? (Just hit reply and let me know where in your life you need peace.)