When my kiddos were little, our family used to live right smack in the middle of a main street that ran through our town. It was near a busy train station and across from middle school and a high school. The noise from traffic and students and the hustle bustle of life rushing past our front door was constant.
But one winter morning, everything was different. Overnight, almost two feet of snow had fallen, which was unheard of in our town. School was cancelled, businesses were closed, and not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
Before I woke up the kids, I slipped on my coat and boots, and stepped onto our porch with coffee in hand. What was normally a cacophony of sounds was now a soft and serene wonderland of snow. I was struck by the stillness and absolute silence outside. There was no noise, only the muffled crunch of my boots as I stepped into the snow. I took a deep breath in and as I exhaled, I could see my breath dissipate into the cold, crisp air. I felt my shoulders relax as my mind downshifted into a lower, slower gear, until the internal noise in my head was as peaceful as the air around me.
When I think of peace, this moment is one of the first that comes to mind. A moment when the world was blanketed in beauty and quiet serenity. And now, even on busy days, I’ll find similar pockets of peace where I can take a deep breath, even if it’s just in the pickup line at school, or the Starbucks drive thru.
As the day’s to-do list rattles around in my head, moments like these can be a welcome reprieve and a blessing, but ultimately, its effect is fleeting. Sure, it might be enough to help me power through a busy morning, but won’t sustain me indefinitely. When the days are long, or life’s challenges persist and I feel weary under the weight of it all, I need the true and lasting peace that only Jesus can give.
In John 14:27, Jesus says that He gives us His peace. Not the temporary kind, but shalom. The Hebrew word for peace, shalom, means more than just the absence of conflict or hardship. It means to make complete or whole, to bring order from chaos, and restore what is broken. To give shalom is to give wholeness, healing, and restoration.
That’s the kind of peace I think we are all longing for – wholeness and healing beyond our own capabilities, and stability in the chaos of the storm. It’s a peace that helps us not to be afraid of the days to come, or feel troubled at the world around us. The peace that Jesus gives us fills us with hope and a deep conviction that, come what may, “it is well with my soul”.
Jesus is the Prince of Peace and there is no limit to the wholeness that He brings. (Isaiah 9:6-7) That means there is no situation out of reach, no person too far gone, no circumstance where His peace cannot reign. Jesus faithfully and lovingly pursues us, stepping right into our situation whenever we need Him.
Knowing and believing this changes how I approach the little pockets of peace I find throughout my day. Instead of a chance merely to catch my breath and organize my next step, these moments become opportunities to remember that God is near, to breathe deeply of His love, and rest in the care of the Prince of Peace. I am reminded that I’m a daughter of the King, and that God is actively working in and through me to bring about restoration in my home, church, community, and the world at large. I can trust Him to lead me confidently forward, and I can trust Him to keep me safe.
I pray that today as you find your own pockets of peace, I pray that you will “let the peace that comes from Christ rule in your hearts” (Col 3:15) and that you too will remember that God is near, breathe deeply of His love, and rest in the care of the Prince of Peace.
