Peace in the midst of a storm

In his last meeting with his guys, Jesus said some memorable things.

They were confused, fearful and upset (Peter had already denied Jesus - Judas had left to betray him).

Then Jesus says, "I'm leaving".

"Okay, Jesus, - where are you going?"

"I can't take you with me, but I will be back."

"Okay," and I can just see the look of dismay, concern and anxiety on the faces of the disciples.

Jesus, realizing this, says in John 14:27, "Peace I leave with you.  My peace I give you.  I don't give as the world gives.  Do not let your heart be troubled, and don't be afraid."

Easy for you to say, Jesus!

But it is a different kind of peace. 

The peace of the world is at best escapism:  a vacation.  An evening out.  A lack of noise.  Quiet.

But for Jesus, His peace comes from the Holy Spirit living in us. 

I realize once again, this day, August 30th, that I can't do it on my own.

I can't live in peace on my own.  I need the Holy Spirit.

Kyle Idleman, in his book, "Not a fan" writes:

"When I started a new church in Los Angeles County, California, I found that I was overwhelmed with pressure and stress.  I was working more than 70 hours a week.

My wife would ask me to take a day off, and I would say, "I can't."

I wasn't sleeping at night, and I started to take sleeping pills.  When the church was about a year old, I woke up in the night, and I had this strange sense that God was laughing at me.  As I lay in bed, I wondered, Why is God laughing at me?"

It would take five years before I finally got an answer to that question.  Here's how it happened:  when we moved into our current house, I saved the heaviest piece of furniture for last - the desk form my office.  As I was pushing and pulling the desk with all my might, my four-year-old son came over and asked if he could help.  So together we started sliding it across the floor. 

He was pushing and grunting as we inched our way along.  After a few minutes, my son stopped pushing, looked up at me, and said, "Dad, you're in my way."

And then he tried to push the desk by himself.  Of course it didn't budge.  Then I realized that he thought he was actually doing all the work, instead of me.  I couldn't help but laugh.

The moment I started laughing at my son's comment, I recalled that middle of the night incident and I realized why God was laughing at me.  I thought I was pushing the desk.  I know that is ridiculous, but instead of recognizing God's power and strength, I started to think it all depended on me."

Good stuff.

Maybe it is time we all resigned as "manager of the universe."