Order from Chaos

My 19-year-old college freshman just went back to school after a luxurious, lingering month at home. There wasn’t much prep involved. With a little teamwork, the whirlwind of chaos that was his room was packed up and gone in a few short hours.

When he first arrived a month ago, my mostly orderly small house was suddenly overrun with ginormous mounds of laundry and everything that had once fit neatly into a dorm room. His younger brother was thrilled to have him home—big-brother-little-brother bickering alternating with spontaneous fraternal affection. Our daily rhythms shifted. The whole climate of the house changed, becoming less predictable and a bit disorienting.

At the height of it—extra belongings, holiday hoopla, and more foot traffic than usual—there was a lot of noise and disorder. I have a fairly low threshold for chaos these days, but by the grace of God, I managed to maintain serenity and joy nonetheless. After all, it was mostly delightful disarray.

Last night, my younger son went back to his dad’s. The Christmas clutter had already been packed away earlier in the week.

My house is once again quiet, orderly, and mostly predictable.

Our world, however, is not.

It is indisputably disordered, and many forecasts are more dire than delightful. Even the most informed experts cannot truly predict the ripple effects of this moment. We are genuinely powerless over most of what is happening, and our sincere attempts to control outcomes often seem to generate more chaos and strife.

It’s easy to slip into despair—to feel as though the world is falling apart. Yet history reminds us that other moments once felt equally catastrophic—moments that seemed to signal irreversible collapse: Y2K, 9/11, COVID. And still, the world has gone on.

This is not the first time humanity has faced upheaval. Though we know that someday it will be the last.

What I’m learning—again (and again)—is that peace doesn’t come from managing everything well enough or figuring it all out. It comes from recognizing where my power ends. There's such freedom in admitting what I can't control or understand, and unexpected clarity that comes when I stop trying to juggle the universe and realign with the One who holds all things together.

We do not know the future.

But we know who does.

We may be powerless, but there is One who has all power.

We can pray. We can realign ourselves with divine order and ask that others do the same—not as a last resort, but as the most powerful means of lasting change in our lives and in our world.

Our common welfare depends on it.

PRACTICE

Think of a time when your life felt disordered or unmanageable.

What were you trying hardest to control? How was that working?

What happened when you let go?

What might surrender look like now?

PRAYER

God, help us see clearly where we are powerless, and trust You where we are not. Help us all see how realignment with You restores order—and sanity. In Christ's name, we ask this. Amen. Thank You. I love You.💖