The peace Jesus gives you is greater than the storms around you.
There are terrible storms in this life that can devastate your soul. You can’t out think them, outrun them, or overpower them. Not on your own.
You know Jesus calmed a storm, and told his panicking friends they could do it. So you pray, speaking every Christian word you know at it, and maybe a few not so Christian ones. But the storm keeps raging.
Exhausted, you give up trying to make yourself more spiritual to fight your fears. You take a breath. You close your eyes to the storm, and open them to the reality of God’s presence—in your heart, your mind, and in everything around you.
At first, your awareness is vague, just a sense he’s there. Somewhere. But then a thought comes, and it’s the first one in a while that isn’t stressful. It’s of something good in your life, and you can’t help but be thankful. Joy fills you more than you expected, and it leads you to see other good things in your life for which you’re grateful, each more powerful than the last.
Suddenly, there’s revelation. Not an academic epiphany, but more like a kid opening a Christmas present. God is good. Not just in your head, but really, truly good. You feel it. You can see Jesus in all the parts of your life. Even in the places that don’t have complete answers, you know he’s there, loving you through it.
Now you can’t not see it. Everywhere you look, you’re recognizing ever-increasing measures of God’s faithfulness, hope, and love. With each wave of his presence, you more clearly see yourself with the grace, joy, and peace he does, and understand you always have more than enough of them to deal with each storm brilliantly.
You open your eyes. The storm is already so much smaller and weaker. And as you say the words, they come from your soul, from the core of your identity in Jesus: “Peace. Be still.”