Peace Be With You

 

David Pyatt, Free Images

The mural in the room catches my eye. Actually, it’s difficult not to see the picture since the image is splayed across the wall of this first-grade Sunday school room where I happen to teach creative writing to kids on Mondays.

With arms raised, hair whipping about His face, Jesus stands in the boat, fearful followers gripping the ledge, peering over the side at the turbulent waves. Written on the side of the boat is U.S.S. PEACE.

If you know the biblical story, you know what happens—Jesus, the Creator of the wind and waves, says, “Peace, be still!” Noted years ago by one of my college professors, a more literal translation from the Greek is, “Shut up!”  

And, of course, the elements obeyed.

I wish it were that simple with my students, especially the young teens, who are testing me on many levels. Yet when I walk into that classroom and see that mural, I smile, for the same Creator God who spoke that dreadful day still speaks to calm turbulent storms.

In hearts.

In a teacher who needs courage to face kids.

In kids who need courage to face their fears.

And there are many due to broken homes, identity confusion, cultural lies they embrace and act out.

Darkness swells and swirls around them.

In them.

But as I start the class with prayer, I point to the mural and remind these troubled teens, many of whom do not come from Christian homes, that Jesus can provide peace in the chaos.

Whatever the dark storm.

With the amen, heads lift, and eyes glimmer, just a spark . . . of hope.

That’s what Jesus does when He stands in a boat and commands creation into stunned silence.

He shares a similar sentiment when entering the room where the disciples huddle in fear after the resurrection. In his gospel account, within the same chapter, John notes Jesus’ greeting on three separate occasions. “Peace be with you” (John, chapter 20). How they needed to hear those comforting words in the midst of their fear and confusion.

How we need to hear those words in the midst of our fear and confusion.

Jesus, our Creator and Resurrected Savior, gives peace.

When He walks into our heart’s room, He says, “Peace be with you.” Sometimes, when fears are large and faith is small, He shouts, “Peace, be still!”

Calm and courage flood the heart. Perfect Love has entered the room and where Love is, fear cannot flourish. Only peace.

Oh, my we allow the peace of Christ to rule in our hearts, no matter the chaotic conditions. How He longs to settle down within our hearts, settle us down as we invite Him to make Himself at home.

The Power of Seasonal Stories

September is such a lovely time of year, I pondered during my morning Abba Walk. Easy to say on this day of VA sunshine and cooler breeze gently sweeping my hair from my face.

Mama used to say September was a sad time of year. I suspect that was because the season brought memories of loved ones who’d died.

Interesting how one season can generate positive feelings for one person but negative feelings for another.

I wonder if that’s not often the case with our seasons of life. Sunshine during childhood days for one might be rain for another. Or likely for most of us, a combination of weather. All of us can point to events, whether during childhood, teen years, young adulthood, or even more recently, where the emotional imprint runs deep in our minds and hearts. If and when we share these memories with someone else, our faces alert the listener to the imprint. We don’t have to alert our faces. The memory does that for us. Eyes sparkle, skin glows when we recount happy moments. We may even lean forward, reinforce excitement with hand gestures. On the other hand, brow furrows, mouth sags when we recount sad or troubling moments. Our shoulders droop, body may slump in the chair. The mere mention of the stormy event whips us into defeat.

This is the power of story. Our own or others. Life is made up of seasons which in turn produce stories.

It’s not really so much about the happy, the sad, the tragic, or anything in-between. What’s fundamental is what we do with those seasonal stories. Therein lies the power of redemption.

If we believe in a sovereign God, and I do, who according to the psalmist has created us in His image and has His hand on us from conception (Psalm 139), then events in our lives take on meaning and purpose. While I didn’t choose to be born in a missionary family or experience the death of my older brother when I was four years old, I have learned over the years to lean into both of those dynamics with all the particular nuances presented in both--the good, the bad, and the ugly, as they say.

Aware that according to the Bible I live in a fallen world, and I’m one who contributes to that fallenness by virtue of my inherent sin nature, I find it much easier to accept the ramifications of a fallen world (Psalm 51:5; Genesis 8:21; Ephesians 2:1-3). Because God gives sunshine and rain to all His creation, I can live in light of Job’s words after tragedy struck: “Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?” (Job 2:10, NIV). Any outpouring of God’s goodness, on the just and unjust alike, flows from His mercy and grace (Matthew 5:45).

I don’t know about you, but that puts seasonal stories into perspective for me.

Creator God loves me. Loves you. He created us for relationship with Him and with others.

However, rebellion against Him stemming from man’s original choice to sin in the Garden separated us from Him, broke our relationship with Him and marred all other relationships (Genesis 3:1-24). Thus, sin, sorrow, sickness, death, all things tragic, entered the human landscape, with no hope of remedy apart from God’s intervention. Though, sadly, we prideful humans have tried to restore that relationship through our own fallen, broken efforts. Thus, the plethora of belief systems generated by the angel of light, Satan, the great deceiver and latched onto by our sinful hearts. In essence, all false belief systems boil down to good works, which according to Scripture is nothing but filthy rags in God’s eyes (Isaiah 64:6; Romans 3:9-20). Only He, the Perfect One, the One who created us in His image could restore what was lost (Colossians 1:20; 2 Corinthians 5:17).

So, in His mercy and grace and longing to reestablish relationship with us, the ones on whom He set His love, He devised a plan to restore us to relationship with Him and with each other. That plan involved the entire Trinity—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—each playing a part to call us back Home to His great heart (2 Corinthians 5:19).

Redemption involved sacrifice, because agape, God’s love, equals sacrifice (John 3:16). The Father gave the Son to be the Savior of the world. The Holy Spirit ignites faith in our hearts to believe and receive His great gift of salvation (1 John 4:14; John 16:8-11; 1 Peter 1:2-9). He then makes us into a new creation in Christ and goes to work reshaping us into the image of His dear Son (Romans 8:29). This will take a lifetime and will be fully realized when we finally see Him face to face (1 John 3:2).

Only in relationship with God through Christ can we fully appreciate, and yes, redeem our seasonal stories. Prayerfully, the good stories call us to marvel in God’s gracious gifts and take note of what He wants to say to us through them. The sad, yes, tragic, stories call us to remember we live in a fallen world, of which we contribute, but that in the vast fallenness, God longs to redeem that season’s story for use in His glorious, larger Kingdom story. Perhaps to comfort others with the comfort which He has given us (2 Corinthians 1:3-5). Perhaps to bring us running into His arms, relying on Him again, which is the only, truly safe place to be, regardless of what season we live through. Perhaps the specific season is for a reason known only to Him. So, we choose to trust in the foundational, anchor truth: He loves us and in the mystery of His workings, only takes us through the weather that is ultimately best for us.

When brought to the Cross and empowered by the Resurrection (new life in Christ). every story can ultimately, will ultimately, blossom into spring.