No Peace on Earth

"When there's no peace on earth, there is peace in Christ." This is a line from a song I listened to no less than ten times one day earlier this year, and it still resounds in my head. 

There is chaos in the world that can be overwhelming and test our "fruit" of patience, peace, joy, love, self-control, and so on. Then there is another kind of chaos that swirls in our hearts: a tornado carrying the debris of anger, brokenness, grief, sorrow, fear, pain, discontent, pride, envy, etc. I can say with more confidence than ever before there is nothing in this broken world that will bring peace to our broken hearts. NOTHING. "For HE himself is our peace." (Ephesians 2:14)

Oftentimes when our hearts are broken, shattered, and scattered by howling winds across the landscape of life we want to ask God “why?”. “Why me?” “Why us?” Sometimes in an effort to feel more “spiritual” we voice everything but the “why”, feeling as though it’s somehow an admission of lesser faith to say this aloud. Jesus wept and pleaded for the cup to be taken from him. We are offered permission to do the same, or at least ask “why”. As believers our heart’s desire is to wait well for the day when all the “whys” will be answered or rendered inconsequential. What may be “in the blink of an eye” in the scope of eternity seems like a long cold stare to us living in our broken humanity. You ask, "Oh death where is your sting?". I'll tell you. It's here. RIGHT HERE. Amid the pain our hearts plead, “If we cannot rewind then please fast forward. Come, Lord Jesus. Come” 

Paul says in 2 Corinthians 4:8-9, “We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned, struck down, but not destroyed.” Paul says we are not crushed, but when squeezed in the vise of death and grief, crushed is exactly how I feel. Perhaps my gaze falls short and the crushing I feel is the crushing of grapes being made into wine. It’s hard to differentiate when we taste salty tears instead of sweet wine.

Paul also writes, “perplexed, but not in despair”. Perplexed? Confused? How did being perplexed end up on the precipice of despair? It wasn’t until recently I understood this in a new way. Is this where our “whys” fall? There are moments it seems all it would take is one gust to blow us over this jagged precipice into despair. I am reminded once again that feelings often lie. He is forever here shielding us from those gusts with his presence. Perhaps our “whys” testify to our confusion. “Why? Is there no other way to accomplish what you will?” our human hearts often wonder. We are hurt by what has been asked, or rather demanded, of us. Some retort, even myself in what some may call more rational moments, “why not?” Valid as the “why nots” may be they do not wipe tears nor dam rivers of sorrow. So why do we not despair? Because he has promised it doesn’t end here in our pain, in the chaotic whirlwind of our hearts. 

“Though we do not lose heart [...] For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So, we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal” (2 Cor. 4:16-18). Indeed, if our gaze was singularly fixed in the here and now (which seems anything but light and momentary), I would succumb to the deepest despair. But instead, he has allowed the gaze of our hearts to extend beyond what is seen and temporary to what is unseen and eternal.

Persecuted? Perhaps you don’t feel persecuted but instead targeted? Admittedly, I have found myself unsure by whom. Am I being sifted by Satan or sanctified by my Savior? I generally conclude it can be both. We know in his sovereignty he could spare us whatever pain we are being called to bear. Could he not sanctify us some other way?  Yet, he has not. And while we may feel targeted or wrestle with the process, we must remember it is with the Prince of Peace we are privileged to wrestle. Even when feelings falter we are never “abandoned”. 

Obviously, the situations prompting Paul’s writing did not consist of peaceful circumstances as he goes on to say, “Struck down, but not destroyed”. Struck down? Yes. Is there room for more striking? Of course, but as of yet this is the lowest I’ve fallen, the heaviest of blows I’ve taken. I have been struck. Hard. Perhaps you resonate with this. There is no going back to the way life once was this side of Heaven. That feels pretty destructive. Perhaps this is why he gave us and reminds us about that “fixed gaze”. His peace is found in the “long gaze”.

Amid circumstances considered anything but peaceful I’m reminded of the tenderness of his character, the power of his words to soften the sharp edges of my “whys”, and the peace of his presence. One day we will rest in his perfect peace with the Prince of Peace. Until then “Hold me, Jesus. Quiet and calm our broken hearts while we wait. For you yourself are our peace.”