Serenity

What on earth is peace on earth?

Tranquility?

We write poems about it. Is it calmness?

We take classes to learn it. Is it peacefulness?

We build our houses to achieve it. Is it quietude?

We take vacations to find it elsewhere. Is it stillness?

We even try screaming to see if we can’t get a little of it . . .

. . . “and QUIET!”

Is it composure?

Mellowness?

It’s more than the opposite of war.
Is it coolness?

Poise?

It cannot be bought for any price.
In fact, some of the poorest people possess it.
Some of the richest also possess it, along with some of the saddest and the happiest.
Is it contentment?

It also knows no color, no rank, no age, and no gender.
Is it repose?

It sounds indefinable, but it is not.

It just passes all understanding.

The definition?

Peace is the fruit of intimate communion with Jesus Christ.
Anything else that masquerades as peace is false, will fall, will fail, will fly away.

Facts are: Constantly working hard to capture all the runaway part of your own self-manufactured peace and keep them somehow glued together
is not a very peaceful existence.

Getting the Prince of Peace to do it for you is—mmm—peaceful.
He just gives us peace, His peace.

Of course, such a great gift would be wrapped and need to be unwrapped
before we could use it, right?

The wrapping is Jesus, Himself, and the unwrapping is as easy as letting go—
and as difficult.

Actually, this gift is a trade.
We give up our own peace and trade it to Him for His peace,
as when we trade in a bent and sweaty ticket for the ride, itself.

And He paid for the ticket.

And our hands were what bent and soiled it.

So simple, some people let it insult them.
Some people are so accustomed to a difficult peace
that they disdain something so simple.