Peace in the Middle of Chaos
I just started reading Kate Strickler’s new book I Wish I Had a Bigger Kitchen, and one of the first things that struck me was her honesty about the “if onlys” we all carry. If only I had a bigger kitchen. If only I had more time, more money, more control. Those longings seem small, but they quietly chip away at our joy and distract us from the beauty of the life right in front of us. Kate reminds me that true peace comes not from fixing every “if only,” but from learning to love what we already have.
That idea echoed for me in Pastor Isaac’s sermon last week from 1 Thessalonians 5. He reminded us that God Himself, Jehovah Shalom, the God of peace, is making us whole. Sanctification isn’t about us striving to manage every gap or flaw in our lives; it’s about God faithfully shaping us, spirit, soul, and body, into saints who reflect His peace.
Some days peace feels like the rarest thing in the world. Life is noisy and unpredictable, and the world around us doesn’t exactly make it easy. Honestly, there are mornings when I sit down with a cup of coffee, hoping for a moment of quiet, and before I know it the cats have torn through my garden and the phone won’t stop buzzing. Peace slips away before it even starts.
But real peace, the kind the Bible talks about, runs deeper than a conflict-free day or a tidy house. It’s about wholeness. It’s about God gathering up all the scattered pieces of our lives and making something whole and beautiful out of them.
That’s the peace of Christ. It doesn’t just hush the noise, it transforms it into harmony.
And that kind of peace goes hand in hand with the journey of sanctification. Now, that’s a big word, but what it really means is this: God’s Spirit working in us, shaping us to reflect His character. Not just forgiven, but transformed. Not just avoiding the wrong, but being filled with love, grace, patience, holiness.
I start each day with reading the bible and a simple prayer: “God, sanctify me through and through.” Some mornings it’s just those few quiet moments over coffee before the chaos begins. But those small minutes of turning to Him remind me that sanctification isn’t a project, it’s a daily conversation with the God of Peace.
I think of it like tending my little garden. If I only pull the weeds, it looks great for a while; but before long, those pesky weeds are back again. What makes the whole garden grow is planting good things, consistent watering, making sure that the plants get plenty of sunshine, and pulling the weeds. In the same way, God doesn’t just want to clear sin out of our lives; He wants to plant new habits, new desires, and new love that take root and flourish.
Of course, this isn’t something we can do all on our own. Holiness can feel out of reach, and I often stumble along the way. But God doesn’t leave me there, He asks me to step into the impossible with Him. Each choice to forgive, each act of patience, each small moment of love becomes evidence that His Spirit is at work, even when I can’t see the full picture. Slowly, steadily, He reshapes us from the inside out.
And I’ll be the first to admit, I don’t always get it right. Just last week, in the middle of what should have been a simple family dinner, I snapped instead of showing patience. I walked away thinking, “Well, that wasn’t very saint-like.” Maybe you’ve had those moments too. But peace isn’t about never stumbling, it’s about trusting that God is still at work, sanding down our rough edges and drawing us closer to His likeness.
I love the reminder that we’re not just saved from something, we’re saved for something. Set apart for God’s purposes. For me, that often shows up in small ways: greeting folks on a Sunday morning and making sure newcomers feel welcome, writing notes that encourage a friend, or just choosing kindness at the grocery store when everyone’s tired and grumpy. Every act of love is a glimpse of God’s holiness taking root in us.
So maybe today our prayer can be simple: “God of Peace, sanctify me through and through. Let Your Spirit shape every part of me; my thoughts, my actions, my relationships, until your love is the truest thing about me.”
And as we walk that out, day by day, we’ll begin to notice it: peace in the middle of chaos, strength where we once felt weak, love overflowing where frustration used to live.
Friend, you are a saint in progress. Not perfect, but being perfected. And the God who began this good work in you is faithful. He’s not done yet.
That idea echoed for me in Pastor Isaac’s sermon last week from 1 Thessalonians 5. He reminded us that God Himself, Jehovah Shalom, the God of peace, is making us whole. Sanctification isn’t about us striving to manage every gap or flaw in our lives; it’s about God faithfully shaping us, spirit, soul, and body, into saints who reflect His peace.
Some days peace feels like the rarest thing in the world. Life is noisy and unpredictable, and the world around us doesn’t exactly make it easy. Honestly, there are mornings when I sit down with a cup of coffee, hoping for a moment of quiet, and before I know it the cats have torn through my garden and the phone won’t stop buzzing. Peace slips away before it even starts.
But real peace, the kind the Bible talks about, runs deeper than a conflict-free day or a tidy house. It’s about wholeness. It’s about God gathering up all the scattered pieces of our lives and making something whole and beautiful out of them.
That’s the peace of Christ. It doesn’t just hush the noise, it transforms it into harmony.
And that kind of peace goes hand in hand with the journey of sanctification. Now, that’s a big word, but what it really means is this: God’s Spirit working in us, shaping us to reflect His character. Not just forgiven, but transformed. Not just avoiding the wrong, but being filled with love, grace, patience, holiness.
I start each day with reading the bible and a simple prayer: “God, sanctify me through and through.” Some mornings it’s just those few quiet moments over coffee before the chaos begins. But those small minutes of turning to Him remind me that sanctification isn’t a project, it’s a daily conversation with the God of Peace.
I think of it like tending my little garden. If I only pull the weeds, it looks great for a while; but before long, those pesky weeds are back again. What makes the whole garden grow is planting good things, consistent watering, making sure that the plants get plenty of sunshine, and pulling the weeds. In the same way, God doesn’t just want to clear sin out of our lives; He wants to plant new habits, new desires, and new love that take root and flourish.
Of course, this isn’t something we can do all on our own. Holiness can feel out of reach, and I often stumble along the way. But God doesn’t leave me there, He asks me to step into the impossible with Him. Each choice to forgive, each act of patience, each small moment of love becomes evidence that His Spirit is at work, even when I can’t see the full picture. Slowly, steadily, He reshapes us from the inside out.
And I’ll be the first to admit, I don’t always get it right. Just last week, in the middle of what should have been a simple family dinner, I snapped instead of showing patience. I walked away thinking, “Well, that wasn’t very saint-like.” Maybe you’ve had those moments too. But peace isn’t about never stumbling, it’s about trusting that God is still at work, sanding down our rough edges and drawing us closer to His likeness.
I love the reminder that we’re not just saved from something, we’re saved for something. Set apart for God’s purposes. For me, that often shows up in small ways: greeting folks on a Sunday morning and making sure newcomers feel welcome, writing notes that encourage a friend, or just choosing kindness at the grocery store when everyone’s tired and grumpy. Every act of love is a glimpse of God’s holiness taking root in us.
So maybe today our prayer can be simple: “God of Peace, sanctify me through and through. Let Your Spirit shape every part of me; my thoughts, my actions, my relationships, until your love is the truest thing about me.”
And as we walk that out, day by day, we’ll begin to notice it: peace in the middle of chaos, strength where we once felt weak, love overflowing where frustration used to live.
Friend, you are a saint in progress. Not perfect, but being perfected. And the God who began this good work in you is faithful. He’s not done yet.
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