The Gift of Peace
Jesus once gave his disciples the gift of peace.
“Peace I bequeath to you,” he said.
He was close to death. And I guess he decided to discuss his will. But instead of handing down personal property, he handed down the gift of peace.
“A peace this world cannot give—this is my gift to you,” he said. “Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.”
I have been meditating on that verse for months. Years.
How could he even think of peace at such a time? How could he command (yes, command, not suggest) that his disciples remain untroubled when his own soul was troubled? (John 12:27.) And when their lives were about to fall apart? And what sort of peace can he give that the world cannot?
I’ve had a busy fall.
It’s wake up and go, go, go.
WHOOSH!
I’m behind.
I’m overwhelmed.
I’m troubled.
At times I want the clock to stop so I can catch up.
Everything keeps changing—and changing fast. My dad used to remind me that, “The only constant is change.” Okay, but lately it seems nothing stays the same for more than a few moments. How can I find the rhythm of life? How can anyone?
God’s truth doesn’t change.
God’s grace doesn’t change.
God’s loving-kindness doesn’t change.
At rock bottom, it’s there: God’s truth, God’s grace, God’s loving-kindness.
That’s what I can count on.
Always.
Nothing else could bring such peace.
We’re loved by the One who:
“…bounds the oceans’ waters,
ebbs and flows the tides,
keeps the stars in their courses,
and gives life to all creatures.”
(The Valley of Vision)
May we remember that.
And may that bring us peace.
