Calm

Life has been throwing yet another challenge at me lately, and at this point, a lot of folks think my life is just one trial after another after another. It's not really, but I understand how it can look that way sometimes. But for me, it's just my story, and I just keep turning one page after another and seeing what happens next. 

I have had some really good seasons. I mean, really good ones. Even lately. When I turned 40 a few months ago, I was on top of the world. I felt good. I looked good. I believed good. I was in a really good place. Things weren't perfectly, but the good overshadowed everything. The love of God, my friends, is real. 

And even though my life took a turn I wasn't quite expecting, the love of God is still real. 

One of the things I've heard frequently in the past few weeks is how "calm" I am. Words that would scare someone else, paths filled with thorns, darkness lurking just around the corner, things that would shake just about anyone else, and I can just state them as fact and not be shaken. "You're so calm when you say that," others have said. As if...what?

As if I'm supposed to lose myself over the stresses of a fallen life in a broken world? As if I would handle things oh so much better if I was a mess? As if anxiety would actually help me at all right now? As if I'm "supposed" to keep myself up at night, pace a rut into my floor, dig my nails into the backs of my hands, and rip my hair out? What on earth for? 

The people of God used to do this, but never over stress. They always did it over grief. And it's taken me a long time, but what exactly do I have to grieve in the hard seasons? 

Am I supposed to grieve that my life isn't going the way I would have dreamed that it would? Am I supposed to grieve that bad things happen to persons who are doing their best to be good? Am I supposed to grieve that what I have been certain is God's plan has experienced yet another delay? 

These would be losses of ego. These would be losses of self. These would be losses from my finite human perspective, losses that can only see what I think I see, losses focused only on me, me, me. 

But while there have been some significant losses in this season of challenge, there have also been some incredible blessings. I am learning, growing, and loving so much. I am seeing things that I wouldn't have seen if the shadows hadn't started playing with each other. I am feeling God's presence in a new way. 

And so, what you actually hear when I am able to simply speak about what is happening right now - without fear, without anxiety, without stress - isn't "calm." 

It's peace. 

Because at the end of the day and at the dawn of the next, God still loves me. God still strengthens me. God still gives me hope. God still has a call on my life. God has still filled my life with the richest of blessings, the greatest of which is His everlasting presence. He is the Prince of Peace. 

And nothing gets to take that peace away. 

Least of all, these momentary troubles.