Fourth Monday blessing: peace

A few years ago, I realized that looking for that crystal ball or asking for a billboard – or skywriting – instead of a simple open door is not the best way to view the future. Don’t get me wrong – I have never claimed disinterest in the outcome of interviews, health concerns, or suspenseful movies. (I am the girl that, when I have even the slightest question about the intentions of my favorite actor’s character, I go straight to Wikipedia. Skip to the end of a movie or book? No hesitation. At all.)

And have I tried many times to choreograph my life so that God doesn’t have to bother with what the future holds for me? Yep. (Not that it has E.V.E.R. worked.)

Suffice it to say, not only have I rarely been right about how things would turn out from year to year, but most of the time, my experiences have come as complete surprises. The great and the hard alike. Vocational and professional disappointments multiplied by each job change. Loss of loved ones, both those close and those I would have liked to know better. Financial insecurity. Distress and anxiety about everything from why doesn’t she like me? to so where is that payment coming from and will we – could we – witness a medical miracle?

See? we’re not so different from each other, are we?

But recently what has knocked me sideways is how this all turned out. How in the world did I ever land here, where in many ways, I’m carefree, loved, and settled? Good golly, Miss Molly.

Carefree. Not that I don’t have responsibilities – thank goodness for deadlines or I’d be a goner for sure. But by and large, I set my own schedule around those things I must complete and spend the other minutes and hours working on all things creative and satisfying. I have room to experiment, try a new binding technique, take an online class in watercolor or writing, or rescue Sweet Audrey Maye from school and get us some Chick-fil-A, large-sized with a milkshake.

Indeed, the unexpected sweetness of these past few years has been just lovely.

But carefree is not the same as peace. I enjoy all of the benefits of no full-time job, living not 15 minutes from my family, creating handmade journals that I offer in two local businesses and online (knowing full-well that if I never sold a one, we’d still be just fine), and a partner that doesn’t push me to do more – even when a little push would probably do me some good. I truly relish what life offers me now.

I enjoy and relish all the carefree that surrounds me – but it hasn’t guaranteed peace. Especially when our 24/7 news cycles report nothing but chaos and risk. When people destined for power are determined to have their way no matter the effect on those who need their help the most. When those who have plenty want more and those who have too little must choose what necessity has become dispensable.

Do those nerve-wracking possibilities jeopardize my liberties? my financial security? my comfort? Marginally, perhaps, but most likely my carefree lifestyle will continue with only small interruptions and annoyances, very few sacrifices, and little – if any – threat to my very well-being.

But there are those I know, and know of, and love, and care about who are and have been on the precipice of crisis with no crystal balls and absolutely NO possibility of contributing to the choreography. And as those trials and menacing concerns loom large over the heads of marginalized people who matter to God and who are made in His image, I find my own peaceful moments disturbed and growing dark.

I find myself desperately in need of the promises of the Prince of Peace:

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. 
Not as the world gives do I give to you. 
Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.

John 14:27

Not like the world’s peace, which is more like carefree. He offers us peace, deep and rich and free of fear. The kind of security not affected by outside evils, difficult decisions, or even the greedy and vindictive who insist on being the most, having the most, and making “the others” suffer. Peace that recognizes the horrors of evil in the world but chooses to live in community and solidarity with what’s right, noble, and sacred.

My lovelies, He is our Good Shepherd and Everlasting Father. The one Who never neglects or gives up on us. The one from whom peace comes freely – even when we insist on being glued to the screen and all of its madness. We cannot be content with carefree – nor should we be. It provides only a thin layer of fine, nice, and good – while true peace is the way to all that is possible for our very best lives. Give it a try.

So now, I wish for you, this fourth and last Monday before Christmas and until the new year, the calm and brightness of the season and, as always,

Photo by Raychan on Unsplash