Processing Peace

Everything in this life is a process. No matter the circumstance, the experience, the joy or the pain.

Everything is a process.

It's a matter of treading through the muddy water in order to enjoy the green fields full of wildflowers to be then followed by a slow and steady hill where you have the view of the fields, and the wetlands that surround them: feeding their growth.

A breath of fresh, breezy air gives the lift you need to start the the not-so-slow and steady climb.

The rain may pour, but the smell is sweet and the sun's rays always break through the dark clouds and if your lucky to notice, a rainbow lifts your spirits as you continue to climb.

At the top of the mountain the view is spectacular. You can see what you have overcome to get to that place. There are trees, clouds, lakes, rivers, flowers, rocks, and most importantly: new perspective.

You see that all those elements work together to make something grand, awesome, spectacular. What seems like a "bump in the road" so-to-speak, actually serves a greater purpose.

It is all part of the process.

Fortunately, if we are looking for them: if we are seeking the peace to carry us through the peril, it will be there. Did you get that? If we are seeking peace through peril, it WILL be there.

After a week of turmoil and fear, I have spent entirely too much time trying to use my own means to convince myself that I could feel at peace. I desperately looked at the situations as they each presented themselves and tried to use the education I received in journalism to be objective.

Tonight it happened. I wasn't trying, I had actually been "kicking against the pricks" as they say. I was angry and exhausted. All the emotion and time I spent trying to be "objective" sincerely got me nowhere.

What did? Well, the literal last-minute recognition that my son was supposed to give a talk in primary tomorrow. Our ward starts at 9 am, and there was no luxury to procrastinate. (By the way, am I a bad mom that I was angry at first? It's because I expect that he should be old enough to let me know himself! I shouldn't have to find some random piece of paper late Saturday night: an entire week after he received it! Ok... I am over it, something good came out of it anyway).

I enjoyed the chance to write about something in simple terms. The opportunity to in a way that he could understand himself easily and "teach" to the other primary children, somehow opened my indifferent mortal mind to a simple phrase:

"Be still my soul: the Lord in on thy side."

I had listened to a student video youtube rendition (David Archuletta style) last night and thought a little about it as I was dozing off. The song never came to me again until tonight. Just a quiet, peaceful but firm thought. The words rang clear and familiar. I thought of the way the rain poured as we left the University Hospital in Salt Lake, and the way a rainbow suddenly appeared and the skies cleared. It continued to rain... but there was hope. The sun was shining, and I was reminded of the aged-old symbolism associated with rainbows.

I continued to work on Kimball's talk, trying to make it a little more visually interesting for the 3-8 year-olds he would be talking to. Another, more newly introduced lyric came clearly to my mind:

"...Burdens that you bear, offer no relief. Let me bear your load, cause I will give you perfect peace..."

If for no one else but myself: I have to share undeniably that tonight, my burden is lifted. Yes, I am blogging at 1:30am, but I can't keep it in. I have to write it down for the strengthening of my own faith. I know that I have been comforted. I know that the anxiety and turmoil plaguing my heart and weighing me down over the last week is gone. Really, it is gone.

Maybe I have only made it through that muddy wetland... maybe I have been trudging through it for sometime. Maybe, and most likely, I have more trudging ahead. But it's all part of the process. At least for tonight, the air is fresh and the sun (Son) feels good on my face, my neck, my shoulders, arms, and back.

The peace is familiar. I have experienced it many undeniable times. It's just that I am no stranger to succumbing to fear and anxiety either. Tonight, at least, while the storm rages, I am calm. There is only one to attribute the rest: Jesus Christ, my Savior.