Peace Begins With Me

Let me set the scene. It’s 9 a.m. The sun is shining on a freshly groomed run of powder from the snow the night before, somewhere high on a mountain in Colorado. I’m about to ski for seven hours straight, eating the sandwich stuffed in my jacket pocket on the ski lift between runs. If you asked me where I feel at peace, this is probably what I’d describe. Or maybe it’s 2 p.m., the sun warming my sunburnt skin as my things are sprawled across the white sand at Henderson Beach in Destin, Florida. My beach playlist is playing on a JBL speaker, and my best friend Allison is beside me, already halfway through her second book of the trip. That feels like peace too. And for a long time, I thought peace lived in moments like these, perfect settings, full days, beautiful places where everything feels easy. But what I’ve learned is that those moments don’t create peace. They simply reveal it. Because when the mountain disappears, the beach gets packed up, and real life sets back in, peace has a way of slipping through our fingers if it’s tied to a place, a feeling, or a moment. Peace isn’t something we stumble upon in ideal circumstances. It’s something deeper. Something lasting.
Peace has always been a weird concept to me. It seems as if everyone is after it, but no one can catch it. I have come to find out that peace isn't actually something we obtain, it is something we create. Throughout high school and into my first year or so of college, I wouldn't say I had much peace in my life. I was constantly chasing, never resting, chasing the high of feeling loved and wanted, doing all I could just to be seen. When I got to college, I met this girl, and we instantly clicked. I felt as if I had known her my whole life. There was something different about her, she had this calmness to her, a sense of unwavering peace. My favorite thing that she ever taught me is the saying “peace begins with me.” Anytime she would begin to get irritated with someone or was just in a tough situation, she would tap each finger to her thumb, one after another, and say, “peace begins with me.” We laugh and joke about it, but honestly, it has so much truth to it. Peace isn't something we can catch in the midst of a chase, peace begins with us. It is something we create. But if it were that easy, everyone would experience it. So yes, peace is something we create, but not on our own.

I’ve learned that peace often requires a decision. A decision to pause instead of react. To release control instead of fighting for it. Sometimes peace costs us our pride. Sometimes it means choosing silence over having the last word. Sometimes your peace is worth more than proving your point. Peace isn’t found by going back to what God has already called you out of. It isn’t found in being “too busy” to spend time with Jesus. It isn’t found in boyfriends or girlfriends, or even in marriage. It isn’t found in winning the game, earning the starting position, getting straight A’s, or wearing a valedictorian sash that will one day be packed away in a box and forgotten. It also isn’t found in the instant gratification of buying the next best thing, the new outfit, the upgraded phone, the thing we convince ourselves will finally make us feel satisfied. That excitement fades quickly, and before we realize it, we’re chasing the next purchase, the next upgrade, the next temporary fix. All of it promises fulfillment, but none of it lasts. All of these things may bring momentary happiness, but none of them are meant to carry the weight of our peace.

I think of the story of Mary and Martha in Luke 10. Verses 38-42 say, “As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!” “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.” 

Martha is busy, distracted, and overwhelmed, doing all the right things, trying to be a good host, trying to keep everything together. Meanwhile, Mary sits at the feet of Jesus. Martha becomes frustrated and asks Jesus to step in and tell Mary to help her. Instead of correcting Mary, Jesus gently reminds Martha that she is anxious and troubled about many things, but only one thing is truly needed. Martha wasn’t doing anything wrong, she was just striving. Mary, on the other hand, chose presence over productivity, stillness over chaos. She chose what brought peace. In a world that praises being busy, accomplished, and constantly moving, Mary reminds us that peace is found when we pause and sit with Jesus, when we stop chasing and choose what matters most. 

Just like Martha, I’ve learned that I can be surrounded by Jesus and still miss the peace He offers if I’m too distracted trying to prove myself, keep up, or do more. Peace comes when I choose to slow down, release control, and rest at His feet. During my first summer working at Kanakuk, I had the greatest joy of working alongside a woman named Grace Willis in the K-West kitchen. Grace is a very talented singer/songwriter (go stream her, she's so good). She has a song titled “Martha” and the lyrics capture the tension so honestly.“Help me choose what is better, no one can take what is better.” Reflecting verse 42, that line alone feels like a prayer for peace.“Doing all I can, and she won't help. Troubled and overwhelmed because there's so much left to do, The King of Kings is in my house, there's so much left to prove, but help me lift my soul to you.”  I see myself in that. The pressure to prove, to perform, to keep moving, even when Jesus is right in front of me. The song ends with the reminder, “The nearness of God is my good.” And that’s where peace lives, not in finishing the list or having it all together, but in choosing what is better and lifting our souls to Him.

Peace is found in obedience. Peace is found in surrender. Peace is found when we stop striving to be enough on our own and allow Jesus to be enough for us. It’s found in the quiet moments when the world says, “do more,” and God gently says, “come rest.” Peace doesn’t mean life is easy or that everything suddenly makes sense. It doesn’t mean the hard days disappear or that grief, disappointment, or uncertainty no longer exist. Peace means that even in the middle of it all, your soul remains steady. It’s trusting that God is who He says He is and believing that He is working, even when you can’t see it.

I’ve learned that peace comes when I stop fighting for control and start trusting God with the outcome, when I choose obedience over comfort. When I choose stillness over chaos, when I remind myself, sometimes again and again, that peace truly does begin with me, but it is sustained by Him. And when I feel overwhelmed, tempted to chase what I know won’t satisfy, or pulled back toward what God has already rescued me from, I pause. I breathe. I tap my fingers one by one and remind myself: peace begins with me. Not because I am strong enough on my own, but because I know where my peace comes from. Peace is no longer something I have to chase. It’s something I get to choose, daily, by choosing Jesus. To God be the glory, always. Be the sunshine on someone’s cloudy day.

Good talk,
Rylie with the Messy Life :)