PEACE

We live in a world today where all the noise has become too familiar—when the pace, the hurry, the ache start to feel too ordinary. And yet, beneath all the clatter of our days, there’s a softer voice, a voice we often mistake for silence—but it is the whisper of peace. Peace is the quiet, settled virtue that is born of faith and trust in a very present, gracious God. It sings in the midst of trouble when others hearts are failing them because of fear. Peace silences the deafening noise of a chaotic world and whispers into our spirits that everything is going to be fine.

Peace doesn’t always show up with trumpets, flashing lights, loud proclamations. Sometimes it just shows up like Jesus did on the night of His resurrection—not knocking, not forcing, but stepping through locked doors and calming fearful, trembling hearts, breathing out words we all so desperately need to hear:

“Peace be with you” (John 20:19).

I’ve experienced through the years that peace is not so much a place we find, but rather a Person who finds us. At times we frantically busy ourselves in a search to find peace, only to add to the frustration when our search comes up short. All the time, He is standing close by to welcome you into His perfect peace.

The world sees peace as the absence of trouble. But the Spirit whispers to our spirit that peace is the presence of Jesus in the midst of trouble. An assurance that settles the soul even when life seems so unsettled. God, in His grace, often plants peace in the very places we feel most broken. It grows like wildflowers in those broken places—unexpected, unearned, beautiful beyond expectation.

Isaiah saw Him coming—the Prince of Peace whose very word would calm storms (Isaiah 9:6).

The Apostle Paul spoke of Him as the One who stands guard over our hearts and minds with peace that exceeds all understanding (Philippians 4:7).

And Jesus?

He didn’t just offer peace, but He is peace, and He bequeathed it to us. It is a holy inheritance that no thief can steal, no anxiety can overwhelm, no midnight fear can destroy.

There are seasons in our lives when peace seems like a distant memory, something we once touched, but no longer hold.

Days when our lives seem fragmented, and the pieces keep swirling, refusing to settle.

It’s in those moments when the enemy whispers, “Peace is gone. It isn’t coming back.

But peace is not fragile. It is not seasonal. It doesn’t wander away. Peace, real peace, stays tethered to the One who is the same yesterday, today and forever.

This kind of peace is built on a strong and unmovable foundation of faith and trust and hope. It flourishes when we learn to look past our circumstances, beyond trusting in our own strength, and learning to trust in God.

This kind of peace doesn’t come to visit us, but abides with us. It doesn’t just calm storms, but walks with us on the waves.

This kind of peace exists in the hospital room.

It stands by us as we gaze into the open grave of a loved one.

It whispers to our spirit in the sleepless midnight.

It moves with us through all of our circumstances—steady, calming, constant.

This kind of peace doesn’t depend on what the world says, or does, or thinks, because it is not sourced from the world.

Didn’t Jesus say, “My peace I give to you,…not as the world gives” (John 14:27)?

Decades ago we would sing a song that spoke of the character of peace, and the source of peace, and then a fervent request for peace to overwhelm us:

“Peace, peace, wonderful peace,

coming down from the Father above.

Sweep over my spirit forever I pray

In fathomless billows of love.”

Most of the time peace doesn’t shout—it simply waits. It waits for the moment when you finally unclench your fist, release what you were never meant to carry, and

without trembling, lift your eyes back to the One who holds the universe in His hands. And when you do, you’ll find that peace was never far off, just quietly standing by, waiting to come home to you.

Sometimes we need to pause for just a moment to feel again the gentle tug of His presence. The world says, “Hold yourself together.” Jesus says, “Come unto me.” It’s there, in His arms, where peace returns like breath.