The sweetest peace comes at the most unexpected times… do you know what I mean? Have you experienced the sweetest peace in the midst of tenderest joy? Have you experienced the sweetest peace in the midst of anguishing sorrow? Have you experienced the sweetest peace in the midst of heart wrenching loss?
The sweetest peace that washes over you now when you reflect on some past experience… the sweetest peace that carries you through the hardest places you’ve ever traveled… this is the peace that passes understanding. I think this is the peace that Kara wrote about in her book: The Hardest Peace; I believe it is the peace she now sees Face to face, face to Face — His to hers, hers to His: the sweetest peace. The certain presence of the Lord and the reality of heaven.
My husband brought me her book, The Hardest Peace, when he came home from from a brief mission’s trip to Korea last fall. I didn’t know how much at the time I needed the reaffirmations of that book–how much I needed to seek and find peace in the midst of what Kara simply called, hard.
I kept wanting to fill in the rest of the sentences that read: take a look at the hard. Or, disappointed by the hard. Meeting Jesus in the hard. As I read, I kept wanting to fill in the sentences that seemed uncomfortably lopped off. And then I began to understand. From the title and subtitle of the book, “The Hardest Peace, finding grace in the midst of life’s hard” to the end of the book — and now to the end of her story, I finally understand. I finally get it, the why behind the writing style — the why behind the poetic style. Everyone’s “hardest peace” or “hard” or “life’s hard” is different. And, while she wrote openly about the different ‘hard places’ of her life from the disappointments to the ravages of cancer, there is much room for each reader’s personal application – each person’s hard or hardest peace is represented in her candid and poetic writing.
It might not be a wayward child, or financial loss, or disease — it may be a disappointment completely different than those three examples. But it’s still hard. Some harder than others. But the resulting peace or the inspired peace will be similar. It will be that point where the Lord sees and meets you. The place where His peace is sufficient and “life’s hard” will be filled with, covered over by, and carried by: grace. Clinging to the hand I cannot see, held by the grip that will not let me go.
I cannot count the times I’ve gone through a trial and, because of the grace of God in previous trials, I’ve recognized His unmistakable signature. More remarkable is when this recognition comes in the midst of the testing of faith. In such times I often think: I’m going to need this… I’m going to need everything I’m experiencing or learning in this trial. All this understanding doesn’t necessarily make the trial easier – sometimes not at all – but it causes real attention to be given to seeking the Lord, to pray, to wait and to study the trial. In these times as I specifically watch for God’s hand to move—I watch for His direction and I’m comforted by His presence.
In this sweetest peace, I’m more prone to praise Him and recount His wonderful works. I’m more prone to trust as I wait. I’m more prone to look for Jesus in the midst of the trial and connect the experience to promises in His Word. In this sweetest peace I’m less likely to give into fear and more resolute to wait on Him.
Sometimes the standing still is hard. I want to act. I want to react. But I find the sweetest peace sometimes comes in the waiting — that peace that passes understanding. I long for that sweetest peace. What I long for is that still small voice. After the strong wind, after the earthquake, after the fire: that still small voice of the Lord. That still small voice that brings the sweetest peace.
Kara knows as she is known… and I’m so grateful to have had but a small glimpse of her remarkable journey in that hardest peace.
I have a few Starbucks aprons I’ve picked up, second hand, along the way. One of them has a printed tape inside the top of the apron. I’m assuming it was positioned there so that it would be seen (and intentionally read) each time the barista positioned the neck strap and donned the apron.
So much of the time we just see what we see and go on. We hear what we hear and move on. How are you? Fine, thank you, how are you? Fine. That’s nice.
Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved.” Acts 4.12
Over the years, standing at the sink many times each day, I’ve seen the most remarkable sights… all the changes each season brings. Through the years, I’ve become aware of what changes will come about in each of the different months. I look for what each new season brings–eagerly anticipating the blooms that will soon appear all over the yard… the tiny new, elegant leaves of the giant old weeping willow tree, the daffodils that will soon dance around the base of that old tree.
Are you there with me? Are you needing to hand Him your basket? If you are, I totally understand. And, in order that you’ll be able to press on, I’d really implore you to join me in just handing over that stuff… there’s nothing we can do about it all anyway, so handing it all over is really quite freeing. I came across a verse yesterday that says, “And it shall come to pass that before they call I will answer, and while they are yet speaking, I will hear.” — Isaiah 65.24 Truly the Lord is our Jehovah Shammah — He is the Lord who hears — the Lord who is there.
Regardless the circumstance, the importance and power of good communication cannot be understated. The impact of either good or bad, clear or muddled, distinct or vague communication is powerful. Think of a time recently when something you said or did was misunderstood by another person; or consider the last time you misunderstood what was communicated to you. How’d that go for you? What were the consequences?
Each Tuesday morning I make a short trip north in our little town to a church where I join others in gleaning what the Lord’s provided. It dawns on me that each week that’s not all He’s provided and the purpose for me being there isn’t simply to glean. But I miss that truth sometimes in my gleaning hustle and bustle.
thankful to have woken early this morning… long before my alarm was to ring (and more thankful now, that I didn’t disregard the purpose and attempt to go back to sleep). I’ve come to see that, in these sorts of times, the Lord has work to do in me — though, sadly, I often don’t see it or acknowledge it at the time. In such times, I know it’s sort of a wrestling match when I awake, instantly aware of the presence of the Lord — and then, almost simultaneously, I’m conflicted and reason (or attempt to negotiate with the Lord) that I’ve had less sleep than I planned on. You know… He gives His beloved sleep. Ah… you’ve tried that, too?
Thank God we can’t tell the future; we’d never get out of bed.”