Some days I have no idea what I’m going to write. Last summer at the writer’s conference my favorite quote, the one I remember – “We don’t write what we know; we write until we know.” No kidding.
There are so many things broken. The whole story and the whole world. Broken. And maybe it’s just that we know too much. Maybe this instant connection to all this mess is simply a horror we shouldn’t abide. We should have left that accursed tree alone.
This week. One teen’s rampage reeks bloody havoc on countless lives, not the least his own. Another teen, innocent, runs a stop sign and kills his own mom. These stories, distant, enough to rip holes in our hearts, and then there’s the up close broken we see every day, and when will it ever just be enough?
Enough.
All this, and I discover I’m a Peacemaker. An Enneagram Nine. I’m still a bit awed at how this is coming full-circle. Boy Mom. Bringing Shalom Home. It’s right there in the title I chose for myself at the start of this journey. Hardly knowing what I was doing, but He knew the story. A story of Peace.
It’s not peace the way you think of peace. Those words jotted in the margin of sermon notes, just before Christmas, gave me the courage to say yes. It’s the peace of wholeness. Completion. Nothing missing. Nothing broken.
Nothing broken. There it is. For several months now, all too aware of how broken consumes us. My daily prayer. God, we’re broken. So broken.
His answer? I choose you to make Peace.
I weep as I write this. I am not in the least up to this task. Me. A coward. Afraid. Hiding from darkness. Desperate for that other kind of peace. The peace that means my life is easy and my days are quiet and…
It’s not that peace.
No kidding. Every week of this new year there’s been something. Some sort of conflict to work through or hurt to heal or hard conversation. The things we Nines are frantic to avoid. He’s got me right where He wants me, boot-camp training no doubt. And it’s working. So far every hard situation turned sweet, unexpected. How does He do it? All’s grace and all’s peace.
Last time I met with Ingri and Katy for Bible study we looked at Paul’s greetings, nearly every letter, he starts this way. Grace and peace. My email signature for several months, too.
We write until we know. And now I think I do. It’s this. This call, and this mission, and He has my attention. How to bring peace to a world so broken? I start right here where He has me, and I bring this Peace home.
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