I’ve been thinking a lot about peace recently. Where to find it, how to keep it. But the thing is, peace is not found or kept; it’s created and nurtured within ourselves. The same is accurate for happiness. We only have as much as we’re willing and able to give ourselves.
As I make conscious moves to provide more peace for myself, I’m reminded that the most prominent source of peace isn’t here on earth at all.
Prayer and I have a complicated history. Christianity and me eye one another with suspicion daily, and I forget that the word Christian can’t exist without Christ. It’s not a series of rituals or buildings—it’s a relationship. I don’t pretend to be a theologian. I have no claims of being adept at explaining why I believe there’s a “man in the sky” who loves me.
But I do know that when I think I’m going to collapse into a heap of useless tissue and bones, someone is there to hold me together. I know that when I cry out, my sorrow collides with something, and I’m not alone. When it’s so quiet I can hardly bear it, someone rests a hand on my shoulder and reminds me to turn on the music or call a friend.
I believe what I believe because the evidence of my life and countless others is too strong to think of believing otherwise. I’m not a good Christian. I forget all the time to turn to my faith first. I have only read the Bible once this year so far.
But you know what? None of that changes the fact that every time I have needed strength, peace, or grace, it has been there. And it sure as hell did not all come from me.
I don’t have all the answers, but I do have faith, and with that, peace in any circumstance—from here to there, from deep grief to great joy. I’m learning more all the time, even if I don’t realize it at the moment.
Thank you for reading ♥