The green beans were still crunchy
Photo by Sincerely Media on Unsplash
The green beans were too crunchy. Even after I let them swim in boiling bubbles for a minute longer, the bite was too firm. The beans weren't seasoned well either. I added a chunk of butter, I sprinkled two pinches of salt; how was that not enough? The pot was already in the sink, filled with soapy water. It was too late. Raw, bland green beans for dinner. Awesome.
As I sat at the dining table eating, I heard magna-tiles clicking together on the living room floor. Another night where I placed my son's plate on the table, and he protested against the shapes, colors, and cuts I strategically portioned out. My food wasn't good enough, and he just wanted to play. All that cooking for what? Then a familiar thought engulfed me — this is too hard.
“I need a break.” I huffed to my husband, who was still in the kitchen cutting the chicken I pulled from the instant pot.
Down the hallway, through the door, turn the doorknob, and I collapse on the chair in my bedroom. Coming to this space is pure muscle memory now. This is where I sit to calm down. I think, journal, or look out the window.
Where's the peace? Why does everything, like cooking dinner, feel so complicated. Why is this so hard? I know we're aren’t promised easy living, but can your girl catch a break?! Stress was present and it was in my ear drums, jaw, and arms.
I exhaled a resentful breath as I slammed my head back into the chair. I was desperate to return to the words I heard earlier:
“My peace I leave with you, my peace I give you. I do not give as the world gives.” [2]
Earlier that day, I watched the Bible Project’s word study video on peace . I replayed the video five times trying to soak up every word.
"Shalom, or peace, is not only the absence of conflict but the presence of connection and completion."
”Shalom refers to something that is complex that's in a state of completeness, wholeness."
"To bring Shalom is to make complete or restore." [1]
My eyes narrowed at the bedroom door as my thoughts recalled this broader scope. With my journal in my lap, my eyes scanned the words, but my mind still wandered:
Parenting is too hard.
I was so harsh and mean.
My son has a cold, so that means another week out of school.
The world is anxious and crazy.
I’m so done with this pandemic, I hate it!
My nerves and senses were out of alignment, and competing messages fired shots at my brain. I knew better and I didn’t. I couldn't shut the thoughts down with force or will power. I also didn’t want to.
I returned to His words again — My peace I leave with you, my peace I give you.
Rapid fire thoughts stand at attention when a superior voice speaks. Like a general ordering an army to cease.
God, fill the gaps in my complex mind. Make my fragmented soul whole. Restore my connection with you.
My chaotic mind is chaotic because thoughts run around trying to find a place to rest. Jesus takes my thoughts to safety. When his presence settles my mind more than my own solutions can. When Christ completes my deprived soul. So, this is peace.
When the green beans are undercooked or the kids have to stay home from school. When anxiety cripples you on the floor or we can't seem to make it out the door, peace secures our homeless thoughts and brings them back to safety. Shalom completes our fragmented stories. He enters the room and orders overactive thoughts to stand at attention. He purifies the cracks, restores what’s lost, and reconciles what’s broken.
That’s something way better than easy living or perfect resolve, that’s peace beyond our own understanding.
References
Bible verse John 14:27