Prince of Peace on Repeat

A friend reached out recently, heartbroken at the loss of a beloved dog after losing another only a few months earlier. I asked him how he was doing. He said, “Flailing—but in the right direction.”

I love that. So true to my experience. And so instructive.

Another friend recently shared how she hit a painful bottom after the death of her longtime companion. Brought to her literal knees—after many less anguished years of faithful prayer—she persevered, crying out to God for relief.

Then, one morning, while putting on her makeup, she experienced a flood of God’s grace—freedom, love, and peace. A spiritual awakening she had never known before, even as a Christian woman in long-term recovery.

It lifted everyone’s spirits to be reminded that this can happen not once, but many times over. Many of the saints (big S and little s)—including me—can testify that just when we think we can’t take another minute, the Lord rushes in with sweet relief.

I believe there is a definite correlation between hitting a bottom—coming to the end of ourselves and our efforts to manage our own lives and feelings—and experiencing this kind of dramatic grace.

I’ve been blessed with several spiritual awakenings. Not because I’m especially spiritual, but because I’ve had so many emotional bottoms, clung too tightly, or struggled too hard before finally letting go and letting God.

The object lesson I often return to is my son Isaac. Knowing before his birth that he would have a genetic anomaly—Down syndrome—I adored him, yet was overwhelmed with fear, anger, and grief. I cried out to the Lord for what felt like months. Then one morning, I woke with a heart full of peace and joy I could not explain.

It wasn’t while I was on my knees or on my face—as I have been before and since. It was an ordinary moment. And I knew then that everything would be okay.

I think God was teaching me that it’s all Him. It’s not me conjuring peace through strenuous or desperate effort—though prayer matters. It’s about coming to the end of myself and falling into His cradling arms.

Christ’s peace, like His salvation, does not come by command or control. It comes through surrender. And the process of surrender is seldom peaceful.

But once we let go, the rush of peace is unmistakable—and it makes everything right, often most notably when everything is not.

Oh come, oh come, Emmanuel—Prince of Peace indeed.

Let us bottom out faster, and with less anguished resistance.

Let us run to Your loving arms sooner, and with greater trust.

Thank you. I love You. 💖