Jesus Offered Peace the World Cannot Give

Several years ago, I learned that someone had been hurting my child. This truth came out of the blue and was about a person I would have never guessed in a million years would do such a thing. I was absolutely rocked to my core.

In that moment, I had to quickly navigate how to comfort and care for my child, protect them and my other children and navigate what this revelation meant to us all going forward.

It was hard. It felt impossible. There were no answers that could explain or justify the situation, and yet, we were all living it and had to figure out what to do next. Things felt a bit blurry as we talked through the situation and some of the choices that had to be made at that time, and all throughout that journey, I calmly stayed focused on being present for them and for my other children who were just as shaken by the news.

Fast forward to the wee hours of the morning, after trudging through the emotional and stressful conversations and decisions, and I vividly remember sitting down on the recliner in my bedroom around 1 a.m. That was first chance I had to breathe since this new truth sucked the air out of my lungs several hours earlier. Finally, my kids were all asleep and the house felt very, very still.

For about 60 seconds, in that still moment, I began to feel rage building up in me at the perpetrator. Someone I loved, someone I trusted, someone who said they loved me and my children. And yet, what had previously been unthinkable was now our new reality. I was confused, I was sad, I was disappointed, but mostly, I was mama-bear mad. I was ready to drive right to that person’s house and pound on the door in the dark of night. I was ready to yell, scream, throw hands- all of that rage was right there about to catapult me right out of that recliner. But I sat still.

Something came over me, and it was as if I could hear a voice or feel a hand on my shoulder that quieted that storm inside me and I became very still. As quickly as I filled with rage once I had a chance to be alone with my thoughts, I was calmed down to a peaceful, quiet state and had a new sense of clarity. I didn’t need to spend my time and energy on the one who had hurt my child, I could let the justice system do that specialized work for us. I knew that my job was to be laser focused on the care of my children, and they needed every ounce of me to be available for them in that time.

It was not inner strength that helped me control my actions and focus my energy. It was not some type of self-discipline that quieted the rage I was feeling and helped me move forward with intentionality. It was God. It was the hand of Jesus, through the Holy Spirit, that pushed down on my shoulder, whispered in my ear and sat me back down in that recliner that night. I did feel peace, in the most unlikely of moments, and peace that can only come from God.