The Narrow Way

There’s a kind of peace that doesn’t make sense.
Not because things got easier, but because Jesus got closer.

For most of my life, peace felt like a finish line I couldn’t reach.
I thought peace would come when the pain stopped.
When the people apologized.
When the memories stopped haunting me.
When everything finally made sense.

But I waited.
And the peace never came that way.

Because I had confused peace with control.
I thought if I could manage all the moving pieces, protect myself from more hurt, make everyone happy, stay strong enough, then I’d finally feel calm.
But control isn’t peace.
It’s fear in disguise.

Jesus is teaching me that real peace isn’t about perfect circumstances.
It’s about presence.
His presence.

He says in John 14:27,
“Peace I leave with you; My peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”

He doesn’t offer the world’s peace, the temporary kind that depends on how people treat you, how things turn out, or how well you hold it all together.
He offers His peace.
Peace that stays.
Peace that anchors.
Peace that shows up when you’re sitting in a therapy session, trembling.
Peace that steadies your breath when the grief creeps in out of nowhere.
Peace that whispers, “I’m still here,” when the world goes quiet and you’re alone with your thoughts.

This kind of peace doesn’t come when the storm ends.
It shows up in the middle of the storm, and says, “You’re going to make it.”

And I’ll be honest, I didn’t always believe I could have this kind of peace.
Not after what I went through.
Not after what was done to me.
But I’m learning that peace isn’t the absence of chaos.
It’s the evidence that Jesus is near.

And He’s been near the whole time.
Even when I was hurting.
Even when I was doubting.
Even when I was surviving what no one else knew about.
He was there.

And His peace is not something I have to earn, it’s something I receive.

So I’m letting go of the need to fix it all.
To understand it all.
To control it all.
And I’m learning how to just breathe.
To be held.
To rest in the arms of the Prince of Peace.

No, my story isn’t all tied up with a bow.
But I have peace anyway.
Because I know who’s holding the pen.

If you’re longing for peace… real peace… stop chasing it in things that shift.
Come back to the One who never changes.
Come back to Jesus.

He is peace.
He gives peace.
And He will keep you in perfect peace when your mind and your heart are stayed on Him.

Even here.
Even now.
Even in this.