“Peace is that brief, glorious moment in history when everybody stands around reloading.” (source unknown.)
Here she comes – Miss America! There she goes to save the Coastal California Gnatcatcher, repair a broken nail, and, of course, bring peace to the world. And how about those hippies back in the 1960s with their mantra of peace and love (not to mention sex, drugs, and rock & roll)? Maybe we shouldn’t doubt the good intentions of anyone who claims to advocate peace.
Only one Nobel Peace Prize is awarded each year,and, unless I’ve missed something, I don’t believe that world peace, or any lasting peace, has ever come with the prize. Of course, it’s a very big world. According to the U.S. Census Bureau, there are seven billion people worldwide, more than two billion of whom are Christians. So how can this be such a violent place when it’s home to two billion Christians? Surely, two billion Christians could’ve changed the world by now! Why aren’t we making a greater impact?
The Heart of the Matter
Where does peace begin? How about violence? Are they hatched at peace rallies, do they spring forth during the heat of battle, or are they created in our hearts? Consider how different this world would be if every one of us lived the virtue of peace within our own hearts! Matthew tells us, “A good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth good things, and an evil man out of the evil treasure brings forth evil things” (Luke 6:45).
We shake our fists at the injustice and violence that are out there, but deny the violence within. We cannot know peace or offer it to others until we’re able to face our own brokenness – our own need for God’s healing and grace. I was good at shaking my fist at the injustices in the world, all while inflicting my own injustices on others. Why? Because I had no peace in my heart, which was filled instead with anger, fear, and pride.
“Peace I Leave with You, My Peace I Give to You” (John 14:27)
How beautiful Jesus’ words sound, yet we find very little success in our attempts to make peace a reality in our lives. In fact, the struggle seems so daunting that we often settle for a very limited version of peace: an occasional moment of calm in the midst of our troubled lives. That was how I coped for years. Frustration would prompt me to seek God’s intervention, but I wasn’t actually interested in peace with the people in my life. I wanted to be able to inflict “justice” on those I felt were stealing my peace.
Sometimes we think we have peace. “Whew! My husband is going fishing with the guys. I’ll have two whole days of peace.” Or “My kids have stopped fighting. There’s finally peace in the house.” Maybe your controlling mother-in-law mercifully moves out of town, or that tyrannical boss may be transferred to a distant city. But those examples don’t constitute peace. They’re merely the absence of war.
Can you recognize the difference between a peaceful person and someone who’s simply stifling his emotions? That’s the kind of person who attempts to control himself enough to give the appearance of peace, but he’s not fooling anybody. I know. That was me.
I always had public and private personas. In my private life, everything was out of control, though publicly I acted as if the opposite were true. But my kids invariably gave me away – usually in church or in the middle of the grocery store. That was when my amateur ventriloquist skills would kick in. Smiling through clenched teeth and with a death grip on the offender’s arm, I would quietly threaten, “Either you knock it off, or there’ll be hell to pay when I get you home!” Obviously, “peace” was not flowing like a river. This river was a maelstrom of anger, fear, discontent, and pride.
What, then, is the key to peace? It’s humility, and I can’t wait to tell you why. This is where I get to expose my dark side to you. So let’s begin with the anger.
Anger: A Double-Edged Sword
I’ve lived with anger all my life and, since childhood, have cowered behind it when threatened by bullies. The parent bully, the teacher bully, the neighborhood bully, the checker at the grocery store bully. I’ve always considered myself a victim. But there’s no justification for lashing out with angry words that are embedded in someone’s heart.
When I was a child, my outbursts generally involved slamming doors and mumbling “I hate you!” under my breath. As I withdrew more and more into myself, I began to feel invisible. My longing for recognition became fertile soil for the anger that was festering inside me. Later, when I had outgrown parental control I gave myself the freedom to express anger without fear of punishment. With each outburst, I was essentially screaming, “Pay attention to me!” – and I was oblivious to anyone’s feelings other than my own.
Do I believe that anger is always wrong? No, I think that misplaced anger is. As people who never express their anger fail to understand, inner anger has to go somewhere. It has to be dealt with. A person may look composed, but on the inside, there could be a pressure cooker destined to explode – or to implode, in the form of ulcers, cancer, stroke, or heart attack. There’s no peace in denial, just as there’s no peace in exploding into unjustified and unrighteous anger.
Sometimes God is angry with us, and he doesn’t mince words when that happens. In many verses throughout Scripture, he admonishes his people, calling them liars, adulterers, idolaters, and self-righteous fools. As he said to Judah, “For you have kindled a fire in my anger which shall burn forever” (Jeremiah 17:4).
So what’s the difference between God’s anger and mine? It’s a case of righteous versus unrighteous anger. Unrighteous anger is the outward expression of unmet needs. When fear is the underlying emotion that sets us off, the anger is dangerous and hurtful. In the Bible, the Book of Nahum says, “He avenges his foes. He stands up against his enemies, fierce and raging. But God doesn’t lose his temper. He’s powerful, but it’s a patient power” (Nahum 1:2-3 – The Message). Anger is not permissible when it turns to aggression, and that aggression is fueled by fear, frustration, or a sense of inadequacy.
We need to accept that anger is a learned behavior, not a genetic trait. My mousy brown and grey hair, which I’m forever trying to cover up, is genetic. My behavior, which I’m forever trying to cover up, isn’t. Unrighteous anger is violence against others. It’s the suffering and death of Jesus at the hands of an angry mob. It’s a frightened child cowering in the dark. It strews victims everywhere.
When I realized God’s unconditional love for me, my anger began to subside – yet something continued to rob me of his peace. Fear was so deeply embedded in the very depths of my being that it freely manifested itself in every area of my life. Even though I was no longer railing constantly at every perceived threat, fear was still wreaking havoc in my life, albeit with greater subtlety, and of course, fear is Satan’s most powerful and creative tool.
Since we’re afraid of our own brokenness, we expend tremendous energy denying it, covering it up, or justifying it. Any time we strike out at someone else, or whenever we curse our circumstances, we’re motivated by fear – fear of losing control or of feeling invisible, unwanted, unloved. Can you name your fears? Can you admit that you have any?
Who’s Your Boogie Man?
Growing up, I was afraid of everything, yet somehow I seemed to be scared of nothing. Whenever my dad paddled me, I didn’t cry. When my teachers disciplined me, I feigned indifference. Back then, teachers were allowed to inflict corporal punishment on their students, and they did!
My first-grade teacher used to have me sit under her desk when I misbehaved, which gave me the opportunity to entertain my fan club by sticking my head out of my jail and making faces. My second-grade teacher spanked me, and my third-grade teacher regularly whacked me with a ruler. I was a class clown on the outside and a frightened child on the inside. I thought that drawing attention to myself was crucial to preserving my fragile ego.
The sixth grade presented me with an interesting means of gaining attention without enduring physical pain. By impressing my peers with my vast knowledge about sex, I developed, at the age of twelve or thirteen, my very first feelings of power and acceptance. Never mind the fact that I had no idea what I was talking about. None of us had any knowledge about sex, but we were curious. So I stepped into that gap. I became the facts-of-life expert.
My classmates were responsive and eager to learn from me, so at recess we would gather for my no-holds-barred sex-education class. When I think of all the young minds that I warped back then, I’m pretty much aghast. For instance, I wonder how many girls were too terrified to kiss boys while menstruating because I’d warned them that they’d get pregnant that way. Somewhere out there, someone is cursing the day she met me!
Fear: God’s Nemesis
God continually tells us not to fear anything.
“Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God” (Isaiah 41:10).
“…then, as the Lord lives, there is safety for you and no harm” (1 Samuel 20:21).
“In God I have put my trust; I will not fear” (Psalm 56:4).
The only way to live a fearless life is by forming a relationship with God. I have never felt protected by anyone in my life. It wasn’t until I learned to trust in God’s protection that the truth about fear was made manifest to me. Satan, in all his trickery and deceit, is rendered powerless by the light of God’s love.
Have you ever stayed up all night, worried and afraid? Remember how you couldn’t eat, couldn’t think? Remember how irritable and short-tempered you were? So tell me something: how much did all that agonizing help? Not much? Well, it’s not what God wants for us, as Matthew reminds us in a very familiar story:
The disciples were in a boat out in the middle of the sea, and the wind and waves were fierce. When they suddenly saw someone walking on the water, they were understandably scared out of their wits. In fact, they thought it must be a ghost, but it was Jesus, who urged them not to be afraid. Impressed, Peter decided that he’d like to do the same thing. So Jesus told him to step out of the boat, which he did, and he was fine as long as he was focused on Jesus. As soon as he looked away, though, he began to sink, crying out, “Lord, save me!” And this was the man whom Jesus would be entrusting with the keys to heaven? At that moment, though, with the ravenous water closing in around him, Peter wasn’t trying to impress anybody. He wasn’t trying to save face. He was trying to save his sorry behind. He knew who to call on when he was in trouble!
Fear has no teeth when we put our trust in God – and I don’t mean when we know the outcome. Yet we function so poorly on trust alone. Instead, we dig in our heels and refuse to budge. If we don’t know for sure what’s happening around the corner, we stay put. Fear denies us the fullness of life that God has promised.
If you’re still satisfied with your entrenched self, consider this scenario. Imagine that, when God called me to graduate school, I blabbed the news to all my friends and family members, then failed miserably and whined about my failure to everybody. Then imagine that God called one of them to do something extraordinary. Would she do it? Of course not. After witnessing my dismal failure, she’d surely decline the invitation. “No thanks. I’m good. I saw how that played out for Linda!”
However, God isn’t going to allow us to make him look bad. We can trust him to fulfill his plans for our lives in ways that we never could’ve imagined. And if Mary and Jesus didn’t need to know the eventual outcomes of their commitments to God, then neither do we.
Contentment Isn’t Out of Reach
Is it really possible to remain content in the midst of difficult circumstances? Or does your life have to be perfect before you can be happy? Do you need to run away from home and responsibilities, live in seclusion on some primitive island, eat coconuts and wild berries, soak up the sun all day, and laze in the tropical breezes at sunset? Wait. This is beginning to sound pretty good! Oops…sorry.
As far back as I can remember, I was never content. I was never satisfied with anything. I never had enough money or nice clothes. I wasn’t smart enough. I wasn’t thin enough. I wasn’t popular enough. My teeth weren’t straight enough. My hair wasn’t blonde enough.
I spent a long time in the desert just like the Isrealites, and I didn’t have any fun there. When I was in the midst of it, though, I couldn’t see it for what it was. I had to have things. I had a beautiful home, new cars, and a swimming pool; shopping was my favorite pastime. Whenever I felt down, I’d treat myself to a new outfit or two, or three. Occasionally, I’d throw in a little trinket for my husband (as a nod to my guilty conscience!), but he was never allowed to buy me clothes. I mean, he once bought himself a polyester leisure suit. Enough said?
“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives” (John 14:27)
Our peace is stolen from us every time we lose sight of God, every time we allow others to define us. Only God can define us! “This is my beloved son/daughter in whom I am well pleased” (Matt 3:17). You were made in the image and likeness of God; no one and nothing on earth can rob you of your birthright.
PASSION, PURPOSE & POOPYHEADS 