Kimberlee K.

Of all the words I’ve been given before, I have to admit I was the most excited about peace.

On the surface, peace is the least intimidating word I’ve gotten so far. It is calming and enticing. It is something we all seek, even when we’re not trying.

Peace? I asked as I sought assurance. Sounds good to me.

But then, naturally, the year opened in a very nonpeaceful way.

There was a lot of chaos, both good and bad. It felt like a lot of running. Running to try and get things done, running to keep busy and do everything in my power not to let anything bad happen, running to keep at bay all the emotions that were piling on top of each other so I wouldn’t have to feel them all at once.

Peace was in short supply, and I didn’t love it.

I thought, wasn’t this supposed to be a year of bliss? Of relaxation? Of answers to all my questions? Of nothing going wrong?

I think I mistook peace for perfection, for the absence of fear, for constant assurance that everything was going to go right, and I was annoyed and confused and terrified when I spent days all too aware of the fragility of life, my lack of control, and the inevitability of hard change.

I thought peace was a finish line, the same way I think we often assume happiness to be. But what I’ve learned this year is that peace is like sunlight. I think there are sources of it all around us, but rarely do we turn our faces towards them and feel their warmth. Rarely do we take a moment to pause in their presence and be grateful.

For me, I find peace in my faith. I find peace in knowing I’m not alone, that there are plans bigger than mine, and that I was created for a purpose. When my world spins out of control, I can mine for that peace, returning to a place where I can focus on it, where I can cast out the chaos around me and just sit.

I have found that peace is not about having every answer, it is not about getting everything you want, it is not about having everything go right. Peace can be a gift, yes, but I think it is often a choice. A choice to turn our face towards the sun, to look around and notice what’s available to us, what’s been given to us, and what we have the power to change.

There are so many things going on in the world that suggest there is no peace. That encourage us to believe that peace is unachievable. There are so many parts of life that will always be difficult—difficult to understand, difficult to accept, difficult to see, hear, and experience—and this year I’ve found that peace is not often found on a grand scale, or in big sweeping gestures. Peace is small, but resilient. And like hope, it is stronger than we give it credit for.

Peace is often inexplicable. It has layers and layers that make it hard to fully explain. But I think that’s what makes it special. It’s what makes the sun feel warm in the moments we take the time to feel it, because we know how much we needed it, and we want to remember it for as long as we can.

While we’d all prefer that peace and happiness were something you could cross a finish line and feel forever, I’m learning that the harder and longer I seek them, the deeper and more meaningful their discovery becomes.

On the other side of dark seasons, they appear like the first warm sun of the spring, shaking the shivers off you in renewal. And in times of chaos, they provide calm in places that defy understanding, giving us unexplainable strength to move forward.

I am grateful for everything I’ve learned about peace, and I’m hopeful I can carry it with me in the future, always believing it is possible to be found.

May we all feel the sun on our face this year, noticing and appreciating the smallest moments of peace we come across, and may this blessing be carried forward for generations:

The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.

Numbers 6:24-26

Check out my previous words of the year: Give, Patience, Surrender, Shine, Faith, Start, Believe.