What God Won’t Let Me Forget
Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid. – John 14:27 (KJV)
Been thinking about peace. For years, I thought peace meant a perfect calm – a serene lake under a perfect sky, a life without anything out of place. Those versions of peace sound appealing, but they rarely match the life I live.
I have discovered that most of the time, peace does not arrive in one polished piece. Unfortunately, it doesn’t come in a gift-wrapped box delivered by Amazon. It comes when it comes, and it usually comes in fragments – little “peaces” from God scattered throughout my day. It shows up as realizations in the middle of disagreements, in short prayers you take time to say when things are hectic, or in the strength to get through a day that began with chaos.
My peace rarely comes to me whole, and I used to believe that meant I was failing in my faith. I thought real believers should walk through life calmly, unbothered by trouble, glowing with certainty and self-assurance. My own jagged prayers and fractured serenity felt like just another sign that I did not measure up.
“Let ‘em see the brokenness. Let them see the cracks in your armor. That’s how the Light gets out.”
Then I return to Jesus’ words in John 14:27: “Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled, nor fearful.” (NASB).
That verse forces me to pause and rethink – because His definition doesn’t always match mine. That seems to be a growing theme in my Still Waters posts – that nothing the Lord promises looks like anything this world has to offer. God’s peace does not depend on silence, success, or smooth circumstances and it doesn’t always look like a serene beach or a perfectly uncluttered life. His peace is different. It takes root even when there are cracks.
When I look back at difficult seasons in my life, I can see it. I did not walk through them calm and unshaken. But I did walk through them. I found just enough steadiness to keep going. That steadiness did not come from me. It came from Him. The peace of Christ did not erase the brokenness, but it carried me through it.
The world insists that peace requires control. Fix your circumstances, adjust the people around you, manage every detail until nothing can slip. God insists that peace requires trust. Isaiah 26:3 says, “The steadfast of mind You will keep in perfect peace, because he trusts in You.” Peace rests on Him, not on the world. That kind of peace can exist even when life looks like it has shattered.
Sometimes I still want the complete version—the perfect ending where every problem finds resolution and every question receives an answer. I want to wake up to a smooth day and go to bed with a heart that never stirs in fear. But what I usually receive is just enough peace for the next step. Enough peace to rest for the night. Enough peace to pray instead of quitting.
That is not failure. That is the way faith grows. When peace comes in fragments, it pushes me back toward God over and over. It makes me lean on His presence instead of my control.
Temporary or partial peace does not mean the peace is fake or insufficient. It means it is real enough to survive the cracks. It means God has not left, even when everything else has. It means the peace of Christ comes in the ordinary moments of a difficult life and holds steady in ways I won’t even try to explain.
The world sells peace as an achievement. You are “mature” if you are peaceful and calm. You are “self-actualized” if you aren’t struggling. Don’t fall for those lies. You don’t just decide to go to the Peace Store and buy the deluxe pack with a lifetime warranty add-on.
First of all, I don’t think it can be conjured or bought. Jesus gives it to us as a gift. The world tells us to earn it by “doing better”, but Jesus hands it to me in the middle of my weakness. The world makes peace look impossible unless every circumstance lines up. Jesus places peace in my hands when I’m broken.
And that brings me to a Judd moment. You all know how much I love them and their music, and there is one moment in a Wynonna concert (Her Story: Scenes from a Lifetime, 2005) where she is talking in between songs. She says her Mom told her to “let ‘em see the brokenness. Let them see the cracks in your armor. That’s how the Light gets out.”
I’m a big believer in sharing my brokenness. I believe speaking up about it comforts other people who are too afraid to share theirs. If I’m thinking it, somebody else probably is, too, because there is no way I’m so special that I would be the only person on earth having a particular thought.
If peace comes in pieces for you, too, don’t be disappointed. God sometimes give us our peace one peace at a time. His peaces miraculously make us whole.
Prayer for Wholeness
Lord, help me recognize You in the fragments. Help me put the pieces together, understand their wholeness, and fill me with Your peace. Amen.
Here’s last week’s: Finding Faith in the Midst of Evil